SER DONNEL STOOD beneath the entryway of the Red Keep when Valaena returned, her book and shoes held carefully in his hands.

He said nothing at first as she stepped out of the rain, joining him under the dry cover of the castle as he held out her belongings. She reached for them silently, hair dripping and dress clinging to her skin as she grabbed the book first. She cradled it to her chest as she slipped her shoes back on with her other hand.

Valaena could tell there was a question resting on the tip of Ser Donnel's lips, of whether she was okay. It was a question she never wanted to answer, because she knew she could never answer it honestly.

She stepped past him into the Red Keep before he could decide whether to speak up, shivering in the cool air as it clung to her soaked skin. The corridor was strangely quiet as they walked through, lit only by the flicker of torches lining the stone walls. Each step squelched faintly from her wet shoes until she reached her chambers, where she slipped inside quietly as she left her sworn knight behind.

Once inside, she closed the door behind her and leaned against it for a moment. Her eyes closed as she tried to steady herself, wishing nothing more than to return to the raging storm outside instead of what she had been dreading all evening.

A deep sigh escaped her lips as she opened her eyes, walking further into her room and dropping the book on her desk. She peeled the damp dress from her skin, letting it fall to the floor as she stepped out of it.

Valaena reached for the warm towels by the hearth, no doubt left by Elissa that morning. She worked through her hair with the towel, rubbing the soaked strands dry until they hung loose around her shoulders. Draping the towel over her shoulders, she suddenly sneezed into her arm. She sniffled, brushing it off as nothing, though she felt the chill cling to her as she walked over to her wardrobe.

Her hands hovered over the trousers hanging between dresses, tempted to throw etiquette out the window and wear them to dinner. She brushed the thought aside, knowing it would cause more headaches than it was worth as she moved to the red dress hanging behind the trousers.

Valaena slipped into the dress before walking over to her vanity. She plopped herself into the chair, reaching for her hairbrush as she began brushing through her tangled hair with steady strokes. When she was finished, she set the brush back down and turned to the jewelry hanging beside the vanity.

Her fingers reached up, tracing over the chains and pendants until pausing at a small dragon necklace. Its golden wings were outstretched, ruby eyes glinting under the firelight. It had been a gift from her father when she was younger, a necklace she hadn't worn in ages.

She stared at it for a moment longer, thumb brushing over the ridged tail. She lifted it off the vanity, reaching up to fasten it around her neck securely. She chose a matching set of ruby earrings before smoothing over the front of her dress with her hands. Glancing at the mirror one last time to make sure she looked presentable, Valaena turned to leave her room.

Aware that she was already running late, she quickened her steps as she left her room. Ser Donnel matched her pace behind her as she walked toward the dining hall, her heels clicking faintly against the stone floor.

Turning the corner, she resisted the urge to groan as she came face to face with Aemond. He didn't seem to share her annoyance as his lips twitched upwards in a half-smirk when he saw her. She tried to brush past him with a scowl, annoyed when he matched her steps to walk beside her.

"Running late?" he asked, voice smooth.

"It seems I'm not the only one," Valaena commented as they turned another corner.

"I'm not the one who looks like they went running out in the rain," Aemond commented.

Valaena stopped, her steps halting so abruptly that Ser Donnel nearly collided with her from behind. Aemond paused after a few steps, seeming to realize that she was no longer walking with him as he turned back to face her.

"Does it look that obvious?" Valaena questioned as she reached up instantly, her fingers brushing through her hair as she tugged lightly on a strand that had already begun to curl at the ends.

Aemond tilted his head slightly, smirk dropping from his face as his gaze lingered on her for just a second too long.

"Only if one knows what to look for," the Valyrian dripped from his tongue effortlessly, pulling Valaena out of her worry as she realized who she was talking to.

She blinked, fingers still caught in her hair as her eyes snapped up to meet his. His gaze weighed heavily on her as she suddenly felt foolish for asking him, of all people. A scowl made its way onto her face as her hand dropped to her side.

"If you mean to make a mockery of me," she began coolly. "You'll have to try harder."

"I would never dream of mocking you," he said, voice dropping into something too smooth to be sincere as his eyes glanced down at the necklace around her neck. "I've always admired your... fire."

Her fingers instinctively reached up to brush against the necklace as her jaw tightened.

"Careful," she warned, her voice low and sharp. "You might just burn yourself."

"I've never minded a few scars," his eye flickered up to meet her gaze as her breath caught in her throat. Her eyes flickered to the eye patch on his eye, a constant reminder of the divide between their families.

She refused to back down as she glanced back to meet his gaze.

"Then clearly you haven't been burned badly enough," she snapped back, fed up with him constantly outwitting her in their conversations. It was infuriating to no end.

For a moment, his steel gaze wavered with something else. Amusement, perhaps, or excitement for a challenge. Then it was gone, masked behind his infuriating composure.

"Perhaps not," he responded smoothly as he stepped aside with a mock-courteous gesture. "After you."

Her jaw tightened, not wanting to allow him to get the last word, but all too aware how late they were to dinner.

"You're insufferable," she muttered under her breath as she continued down the corridor, annoyed when he followed at a leisurely pace beside her.

"So I've been told," his voice seeped with a hint of satisfaction as she resisted the urge to roll her eyes as they reached the grand doors of the dining hall.

The quiet conversations of the room halted as the doors creaked open to reveal their presence, eyes snapping to the pair as they entered the room. She released an audible huff as she left Aemond's side, moving to her family's side of the table as she ignored the concerns and disapproving looks from the table. Daemon narrowed his eyes at Aemond, who had moved to the end of the table by the greens, before glancing over at his daughter, who appeared unharmed but radiating with irritation.

Valaena found the empty chair beside Jacaerys, who had taken the seat beside Aegon, as to save her the agony of being tormented during dinner. She dropped into the empty chair with more force than necessary as conversations slowly returned to the room, the wood creaking beneath her as she crossed her arms angrily.

"If I have to hear his smug voice one more time," Valaena grumbled under her breath, leaning toward Jacaerys. "I swear I'll throw a goblet at his head."

"You know I don't understand you, Valaena," Jacaerys sighed, trying not to get frustrated as she was clearly upset about something that happened with Aemond.

Valaena blinked slowly, as if slowly remembering that her brother was not fluent in Valyrian like she was. The weight of it settled over her as she realized that he did not understand the language of their ancestors like she did. She sat back in her chair, arms still crossed tightly as she closed her eyes.

"It's nothing," she muttered in the Common tongue this time, quieter now.

But it wasn't nothing. It never was.

Jacaerys gave her a look, one of mild concern and exasperation. He leaned in slightly, trying again.

"Did he say something to you?" he asked, glancing over at Aemond with a glare.

Valaena sighed as she opened her eyes again, turning back to look at her brother.

"Doesn't he always?" she muttered angrily, trying not to glance at the end of the table where she knew Aemond sat just as unconcerned as always. "He's such a spoiled prick."

The Valyrian slipped out unconsciously as she reached for her plate of food, grabbing a knife and stabbing it into her food.

"You could be plotting murder or reciting poetry, and I wouldn't know the difference," Jacaerys sighed as he watched his sister angrily hack at her food.

"I am plotting murder," she muttered in Common tongue as she took a bite of food. "I swear, if he says one more word to me tonight, I'll stab him with my fork."

Jacaerys blinked.

"Please don't," he said. "As much as I'd love that, we don't need to start a war. Not yet, anyway."

"I know," Valaena groaned as she dropped the silverware on her plate. "I just can't help it."

"Besides, could you imagine the songs they'd write if you stabbed him at dinner?" he said, raising a brow. "I'm thinking The Fork of Fire and Fury would be rather good-"

"Stop it," Valaena muttered, but snorted despite herself as the corners of her mouth twitched upward.

"Too late, I can already see it," Jacaerys smiled back. "It'll be a real masterpiece."

"Oh gods," Valaena released a laugh, ignoring the looks from the table as she reached out and grabbed her brother's arm. "You're awful."

"And you're welcome," he said, smiling as he nudged her arm with his elbow.

She tried to quiet her laughter as she shook her head, turning back to her plate of food. Just as her smile lingered, a harsh cough echoed across the table. It was enough to silence the clatter of silverware across the table and draw every eye to the head of the table.

Viserys hunched forward in his seat as another coughing fit overtook, his frail body barely able to contain it. Alicent was already at his side, murmuring something under her breath as she reached for his arm.

Valaena's smile vanished instantly, the humor draining from her face as she stared across the room.

Viserys caught his breath after a long, grating moment. The room was left in silence for several beats too long before conversation slowly resumed in hushed murmur, as though pretending nothing had happened might somehow make it so.

Valaena glanced at Jacaerys, who was watching his grandfather with a clenched jaw, saying nothing. She swallowed heavily, glancing down at her food as she suddenly found it impossible to eat as everyone else returned to their meals.

Because deep down, she knew the truth. Viserys was dying. It was only a matter of time, and then a war would come.

They all knew it.

She found herself looking across the table to where Aemond sat, his gaze set on his father. His expression was blank as he stared at Viserys, like he wasn't watching his father wither away before his very sight. Something about it made Valaena's stomach twist.

As if sensing her stare, Aemond looked up. His eye found hers across the length of the hall, sharp and steady as they found her gaze.

She should have looked away. She meant to. But she didn't.

There was something in his gaze that held her still. Like she couldn't make herself look away.

"Valaena," came a voice to her left.

Her head snapped around, the tension breaking like glass. Her father's voice cut through the haze like a blaze. His stare was intense, like he had been watching every interaction since she had entered the room. But of course he had. He always did.

His eyes were sharp as they lingered not on her, but on Aemond across the table. Valaena furrowed her eyebrows as Daemon turned back to her. There was a concern behind his eyes that she didn't quite understand.

"I asked if you were feeling alright," Daemon said, his tone even but edged.

Valaena hesitated for a moment too long, blinking as if confused by the question.

"I'm fine," she murmured, annoyance seeping through her voice as she knew the overprotectiveness that would come from her family if she became sick again. "Just tired."

"You do look a bit flushed," Jacaerys teased as he reached up to touch her rosy cheeks, laughing as she smacked his hand away. "Although I think it's more from anger than sickness."

Valaena rolled her eyes as she went back to stabbing her food, trying to ignore her brother's annoying teasing. She hadn't realized her father still had a frown on his face, his eyes trailing back to Aemond once again. Watching the way his eyes flickered to the end of the table every so often with a hidden look behind his eye that made Daemon's jaw tense.

He knew what it looked like when a man was drawn to fire.

And yet, Valaena remained obvious as always as she muttered harmless threats to her brother, unaware of the brewing storm. Valaena couldn't see the look sent her way as she pushed away her brother as he tried grabbing her cheeks again, but Daemon could see it.

Possession. Obsession.

Desire.

"Father," Valaena's voice dragged him out of his thoughts as he forced himself to drop the frown from his face and turned his attention to his daughter. "Jace doesn't believe you actually cut off a Triarch's head and tossed it into the enemy's wine barrel."

Daemon arched a brow, but was stopped before he could respond.

"Not at the dinner table," Rhaenrya warned with a stern look, giving Valaena a disapproving look as she pouted dramatically.

"Another time," Daemon told her with a wink, watching a bright smile flash across her face as she turned to Jacaerys triumphally. "And it wasn't wine."

"I told you," she whispered to him harshly as he smacked her arm, the two descending into another bickering fight.

Daemon allowed himself to relax as he leaned back into his chair. Peace was rare, and never lasted long in their family. He would deal with the threats later. Not now.

Not when she was happy.