章節 2: -2-
Before the impending war between their families cast a shadow over their lives, Aegon had once approached his niece, Aelora, while she sought solace beneath the sprawling branches of an ancient tree. The sun filtered through the leaves, illuminating her tranquil reading spot, a sanctuary she cherished for its peace. Yet, as if conjured from the very air, Aegon appeared, a mischievous smile playing upon his lips, his hand concealed behind his back.
"Lovely day, isn't it, little niece?" he declared, his voice a melodic cadence against the rustling leaves.
Aelora, absorbed in her tome, chose silence as her response, her eyes tracing the lines of text with unwavering focus. Aegon, sensing her disinterest, cleared his throat awkwardly. "May I sit with you?" he queried, though before she could respond, he had already made himself comfortable beside her. Aelora stifled a sigh, her irritation masked beneath a veneer of composure.
"What are you reading? A history book?" he asked, leaning closer to peer at the pages. She hummed in acknowledgment, her concentration unwavering, until she felt the unexpected warmth of his hands encircling her.
Aelora's body stiffened, her heart racing as she glanced down to find a delicate blue pendant cradled in Aegon's grasp, its surface shimmering like the sky above. "A gift for you," he proclaimed, a grin spreading across his face as he tilted his head, eager to witness her reaction.
Though Aegon had previously lavished her with an array of treasures—jewelry, exquisite dresses, and captivating books—she found herself unable to decline this offering, for its value was undeniable. Despite his betrothal to Helaena, Aegon had made his feelings for Aelora all too clear.
"Is it pretty? It's your favorite color!" he beamed, tucking a stray strand of Aelora's hair behind her ear with a tenderness that sent shivers down her spine. She nodded, conceding to his words even as a tumult of emotions swirled within her.
"I've bestowed many gifts upon you; why don't you give me one in return?" he proposed, his eyes alight with mischief.
Aelora lifted her gaze to meet his, her curiosity piqued. "What do you desire?" she inquired, eliciting another charming grin from him.
"Give me your hair strands," he answered with childlike fervor.
"That is a peculiar request. Why would you wish for my hair?" she retorted, her hand instinctively reaching for the knife she had used to slice apples.
"I simply want it," he replied, his tone a mixture of playfulness and earnestness.
With deliberation, Aelora severed a few delicate strands of her hair, offering them to Aegon. His grin widened, a silent cheer echoing in his mind as he envisioned placing them within a locket, a cherished token to carry with him wherever he roamed.
"Is there anything else you require? If not, I would like to resume my reading," she stated, turning her attention back to the pages that beckoned her.
"Oh, nothing! You may continue. I shall be on my way!" he chirped, rising to his feet and reaching for a ripe apple. Before departing, he pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek, a fleeting gesture that left her momentarily breathless, before he dashed away, leaving her shrouded in solitude once more.
Aelora had long grown accustomed to his affectionate gestures—those playful kisses upon her cheeks, the warm clasp of his hand, the embraces that lingered just a heartbeat too long. She wiped her cheek with the sleeve of her dress, a habitual response to his endearments. Despite the dagger-like glares he often received from his brother and nephews, Aegon remained undeterred, pursuing his affection for her with a reckless abandon that both thrilled and troubled her.
★
Jacaerys found his sister standing alone near the cliff, her silhouette framed against the vast expanse of the sea. She was wrapped in flowing silk, the gentle caress of the wind causing her dress to dance gracefully around her. A smile broke across Jace's face as she turned her head to meet his gaze.
"Jace," she greeted, her voice soft yet resonant against the backdrop of crashing waves.
"The sound of the sea is calming, isn't it?" he remarked, stepping closer to stand beside her. Aelora turned her gaze back to the ocean, the rhythmic ebb and flow echoing the turmoil within her heart. They stood in silence for a few moments, the world around them fading into a serene hush, before Jacaerys reached for her hands, tenderly caressing them as he searched her eyes.
"Aelora, about our betrothal..." he began, his voice barely above a whisper.
Aelora held his gaze, her eyes unwavering, as if they were two stars locked in an eternal dance. Jacaerys felt himself at a loss for words, his tongue tied by the intensity of her gaze. The ethereal amethyst of her eyes seemed to illuminate the very air between them, and he closed his eyes, taking a steadying breath. "Are you alright with marrying me?" he finally asked, the question hanging heavily in the air.
"Of course I am. You are a gentleman, and I am thankful it is you who I will be marrying. I can't imagine marrying a lord thrice my age." she replied, her voice imbued with sincerity.
Jace tightened his grip on her hands, a gentle yet firm promise. "I promise, Aelora, to be a good and responsible husband for you. I will remain loyal to you until the end of my days," he vowed, his voice resolute.
Aelora smiled, her hand reaching up to caress his face, a gesture filled with warmth and understanding. From the castle balcony, Rhaenyra observed her two children, a mixture of pride and concern etched across her features. Daemon appeared beside her, his presence a steadying force.
"Do you think it's a good decision?" Rhaenyra asked, her voice laced with uncertainty.
"Jace loves Aelora; he can protect her." Daemon answered, his tone confident yet cautious.
Meanwhile, in King's Landing, Aemond stormed into his mother's chamber, his fury palpable. The news of Jacaerys' betrothal to Aelora had reached him, igniting a tempest of emotions he could scarcely contain. "Aelora would have been here with me if you had accepted Rhaenyra's proposal!" he bellowed, his finger accusingly pointed at Alicent.
Alicent, her face twisted in a mix of anger and disbelief, marched toward him and delivered a sharp slap across his cheek. "How dare you raise your voice at me, your mother! The daughter of the wench has poisoned your mind, Aemond. I am doing this for your own good!" she thundered, her grip tightening on his shoulders.
"So what?! What if she did poison my mind? If she planned to do so, I would gladly let her if it means I can have her heart," Aemond retorted, his voice fierce, a storm brewing within him.
"You will never have her heart! She will never love you!" Alicent screamed, her frustration echoing against the walls.
Fortunately for Aemond, Aegon was absent from the castle, lost in the indulgent pleasures of a pleasure house. Had he been present, the chaos would have escalated further, perhaps even more violently. Aelora's relationship with Aegon had faded over time, the distance growing the moment he immersed himself in the bottle and discovered the hedonistic delights of the world beyond. Aelora, recognizing the shift, had quietly distanced herself from him, leaving Aegon heartbroken in her wake.
He had attempted to reclaim the affection he once held for her but found himself unable to return to the past.
"Do you truly wish to marry the bastards' sister?" Alicent challenged her second-born son, her voice tinged with disbelief. Aemond stood there, his face hardened, tears threatening to spill from his eyes. Alicent could scarcely comprehend it; her son, Aemond, weeping for a girl—not just any girl, but the daughter of Rhaenyra, her former dear friend.
"You need to have your head checked, Aemond. This ridiculous obsession you have for Aelora is not normal," she scolded, her voice laced with maternal concern.
Silence hung heavily in the air between them, an unspoken acknowledgment of the truth.
Indeed, Aemond was obsessed. He had turned away from other girls, refusing to indulge in fleeting pleasures. He wanted Aelora, and he would go to any lengths to claim her.
The following day, Aegon sat on his bed, the remnants of a drunken stupor still clouding his mind. He had returned the night before and collapsed into his bed, weary and disheveled. Helaena was nowhere to be found, preoccupied with the care of their twins. Aemond's voice broke through the fog as he informed Aegon of Aelora's betrothal to Jacaerys.
"She arrived at Dragonstone days ago. Now she's just waiting for the marriage," Aemond said, his gaze fixed out the window, a storm of emotions brewing within him.
"Where did you hear about this?" Aegon asked, his stare still lowered to the ground, a mix of indifference and irritation.
"It spreads like wildfire. Father keeps talking about it. Perhaps if you stopped getting drunk and frequenting pleasure houses, you would have heard this news much sooner," Aemond retorted, his tone sharp. "But then again, you are disloyal. Of course, Aelora would not choose you, even if mother had agreed to Rhaenyra's proposal."
Aegon's heart sank at the weight of his brother's words, the realization of his own failings settling heavily upon him.
每周推薦票狀態
-- 推薦票
榜單 
-- 推薦票