For almost her entire life, Daella Targaryen has lived as Mellara Rivers, the bastard daughter of Arnold Arryn and cupbearer of Lady Jeyne Arryn. First and trueborn daughter of Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen, Daella had but slight contact with her fami...
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T W E N T Y - S I X
Love is drowning In a deep well ─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
King Viserys's health had been declining ever since Daella had arrived at Kingslanding, but when Aemond suddenly entered her room through the secret passageway in the middle of the night and looked at her in a way she could not possibly ever describe, Daella knew it was over. Closing the thick book about fertility rituals, the only reason why she was still awake in the middle of the night, and pushing herself up on her elbows, she looked up at Aemond with her eyebrows risen. "He has passed?"
Aemond gave a single nod, remaining close to the secret door. Daella placed the book on her nightstand and pulled the covers from her body, gracefully sliding out of her bed. She was wearing a sheer nightgown, one that left little to the imagination even though it reached her ankles, and she only realised it when she looked quickly over her shoulder. Aemond's eye was fixated on her figure and for a moment she could feel her heart race, but then she noticed the slight grimace on his face, as though the sight of her physically hurt and repulsed him, and she rushed into her bathroom, just in time remembering to grab one of her dresses.
Daella was not sure what she had imagined, as she quickly shrugged out of her nightgown, but for some reason, it stung to see Aemond look at her body with an obvious expression of dismay. He had taken her to that inn, where he must have undoubtedly been a million times already, seeing the most beautiful bodies of Westeros. Of course, hers wouldn't compare, but it was hers he was going to be stuck with after their marriage.
Hating herself for picking a dress with laces on the back, she quickly pulled it on and kept it from slipping off by covering her chest with one arm, before walking back into her bedroom. Feeling embarrassed already, she went to stand in front of Aemond, turned around and dared not to look over her shoulder. "Can you lace me up?" she asked, her voice barely audible.
"Do I need to fix your clothes once again?" Aemond countered, sounding terribly bemused.
His obvious jest didn't do the trick for Daella this time, who was still seeing Aemond's grimace, burnt in the back of her mind. Even when he pulled her laces unnecessarily hard, another poke in her direction, she simply gulped and let him do his thing. Daella wasn't even sure why she was so bothered by his facial expressions, he had called her a thousand things worse, and she tried to shrug the feeling away.
"Should I make a tie or a knot at the end?" he asked, his voice hoarse.
He was standing so close to her that Daella could feel his breath on the back of her neck and that, in combination with the feeling of his strong hands on her back, caused a shiver to crawl down her spine. She hated that he made her feel that way. "A tie, please," she replied, not bothering to look over her shoulder.
