-Chapter 110-

-Chapter 110-

-POV Ser Willem-

"What do you plan to do today?" I asked Rhea.

"I'm not sure, we could go hunting again," Rhea said, slightly distracted.

I placed a hand on hers and said gently, "Are you thinking about your grandson?"

"Can you imagine? I'm a grandmother, and I can't even spend a little time with Aemon and Viserys without him finding a reason to leave suddenly," she said.

"It's just a phase; it will pass. Give him time to understand," I said, feeling like I was repeating myself.

And I was, as I kept saying that everything would work out with time, but nothing ever changed.

The Prince's resentment was deep, and he showed no signs of softening, even after more than a year.

"If only he would truly make an effort to understand me… but no, my presence disgusts him."

"I'd say it's more likely mine that disgusts him. This is all my fault. I should never have…"

Knock, knock.

I frowned at the sound of someone interrupting us.

Since Rhea had chosen not to end our relationship, we had been, in a way, banished from the Prince's court.

'She's barely allowed to have meals with her full family,' I thought.

"Do you want me to see who it is?" I asked.

"No, I know who it is," Rhea said, instantly recognizing the person behind the door.

I frowned, but she said nothing.

She simply stood up and walked toward the door in silence.

She opened the door after taking a deep breath, and my eyes widened when I saw who it was.

I stood abruptly, tense as a drawn bow, as I saw the Prince.

I knew that if it were up to him, I'd already be dead.

"Aemon," Rhea said, looking directly into the eyes of her son, who had punished her for an entire year by depriving her of his presence.

'He knew exactly how to hurt her, and it worked because she suffered deeply from it and still does,' I thought, internally burdened by her sorrow as I noticed her clenching her fists.

"Mother," said Prince Aemon, looking at her.

"Did you want something?" Rhea asked, showing no weakness to her son, her chin held high.

The Prince turned his gaze from his mother and fixed it on me.

I felt all the hairs on my body stand on end.

'He hates me,' I thought, feeling the cold, predatory look he directed at me.

'There was a time when we were very close, but that changed long ago,' I thought, allowing myself a brief memory of when I carried him on my shoulders.

"Aemon," Rhea said, drawing her son's attention back to her before adding, "What do you want?"

The Prince stared at his mother for a long moment before finally saying, "Forget it. It was a mistake. You clearly have better things to do."

"Aemon," she said, trying to reach for her son, who skillfully avoided her touch.

I took a step forward and tried to say, "I can leave you two…"

The Prince looked at me but said nothing before turning away without another word.

'This isn't going to resolve itself anytime soon,' I thought, watching Rhea hold back her tears.

---

-POV Aemon Targaryen-

"You're being unfair to her," Gunthor said.

'As if I didn't know that,' I thought, fully aware that my behavior was problematic, but…

'I want to tear him apart every time I lay eyes on him.'

I rolled my eyes and said, "I didn't ask for your opinion."

"You're acting like a child," Gunthor said bluntly.

I didn't respond, hoping he'd stop talking, because I didn't want to lose control all at once.

I needed to let my anger cool so I could regain control over the emotions boiling inside me.

'I mustn't show this side of myself to him,' I thought, unwilling to appear vulnerable.

'Or to anyone else, for that matter,' I thought, as this was one of the few weaknesses I still had, and no one should ever manage…

'To press where it hurts,' I thought.

"Aemon, this issue is eating you alive. Burying it won't help you heal."

"You think I don't know that? Let me remind you, I'm the one most affected," I said, controlling my voice to keep it monotone.

"No, the one most affected is your mother," Gunthor replied.

I rolled my eyes and turned away, but Gunthor grabbed my arm firmly. Surprised by his action, I raised my eyes and locked them onto his before saying:

"Anyone else would have seen his hand leave my arm for that."

Gunthor held my gaze and said:

"That's exactly why it has to be me because no one else dares to do it."

"Dares to do what?" I asked, meeting his gaze in return.

"You're consumed by jealousy, Aemon," he said.

I suddenly smiled and said, pulling myself free from his grip:

"Don't be ridiculous."

Gunthor didn't argue further and simply added:

"You need to deal with this problem quickly, and you know I'm right."

"And why should I set aside my pride?" I asked, spreading my arms.

'It's true, I'm a Prince. The least they could have done was inform me and ask for my permission,' I thought.

"Because you're the only one who hasn't done so," he replied before adding:

"If she truly wanted to solve this, she would have just stopped fooling around with a servant," I said, annoyed.

Gunthor shook his head, but I didn't give him the chance to say anything further.

"The mother of the Prince of Runestone marrying a servant. Can you hear the whole realm and beyond laughing about it? I'd be mocked from Dorne to the Wall," I added.

"That's not what's really upsetting you," Gunthor said, easily seeing through me.

'We spend way too much time together,' I thought.

"But it's still the truth," I retorted.

"Even if it were true, you wouldn't let it happen without consequences. I'm sure of that," he said before adding:

"What's really infuriating you—so much that you'd want to kill the man who looked after you throughout your childhood, in case you've forgotten—is that your mother wants to remarry another man. And you know she could have children with him, even if the chances are slim. A new family. And you think Willem doesn't deserve her."

"And you think he does? A landless knight who betrayed his lord for a woman," I said.

Gunthor shook his head and said:

"He loves her. Once, you told me yourself that you would've preferred a marriage built on love, and that you understood perfectly the hatred my cousin feels for your father—a hatred we both share. But maybe that's something else that has changed?"

I didn't reply, but I narrowed my eyes.

Seeing my silence, Gunthor continued:

"One more thing: don't forget that Willem didn't betray your father for your mother. He did it for you. At one time, he was supposed to be in my place, even before Daman."

"It doesn't matter anymore," I said, tired of this conversation. A simple talk wasn't going to change me.

"It matters entirely because I know you. You think Willem betrayed you by getting close to Rhea, and that my cousin betrayed you too. You've always been her priority, and you're afraid you won't be anymore. You're afraid that will change. You're afraid she'll replace you," Gunthor said.

I stayed silent because, deep down, I knew he wasn't wrong.

'It's so pathetic,' I thought, hearing the harsh but truthful picture he was painting.

"Fine, you want me to be honest with you? Then so be it," I said, deciding to lay all my cards on the table with my uncle. He was the only person I could be completely honest with anyway.

I continued:

"Do you think I'm unaware of everything you just said? I know it all. I'm fully aware that the resentment I feel every time I see his stupid face is simply jealousy deep inside me that I can't suppress. But I can't do better. It's better this way."

"Try. At least make an effort," Gunthor said.

"I can't," I replied.

"Why not?" Gunthor asked.

"Because I'd want to kill him if I saw him every day," I admitted coldly.

"Why?" he asked again, trying to push me to my breaking point.

"Because she's changed!" I finally shouted, losing my composure, before adding: "She's changed, and she doesn't even realize it. I know Willem. I've spent years with him. And I know my mother too. I can tell when she's being influenced. I don't want him coming between her and me, and he can't help himself because he wants to reclaim his place with me. He might even want to carve out a better one for himself, using the affection she has for him."

"That's not true," Gunthor said.

"It's the truth. He will inevitably try to carve out a place for himself. And the worst part is, he won't even do it with malicious intent. If he wants to stay with my mother for the long term, he'll have no choice but to do it eventually. And even if he manages not to encroach on my territory, she'll be the one forcing him to do it. She'll want to marry him, then have children with him, and I won't have the strength to say no to her."

Gunthor shook his head once more, disapproving of my reasoning. So I said:

"Knowing her, can you really imagine my mother sitting at the table with us, with their child if they have one, while he waits outside like a common servant?"

Gunthor said nothing because he knew I was right. I seized on that and continued:

"That's exactly what I thought. It will be a constant source of conflict between us, because for me, even though I liked him at one point, he's not and will never be part of my family. So I'd rather act as if she were dead."

Gunthor tried to interrupt me, but I raised my hand and said:

"There's nothing more to say. I'm letting her live her life, enjoy her happiness in peace, while I live mine."

"And that's why you were at her door this morning?" he asked, not letting go of his argument.

"I thought she'd be alone. I wanted advice from her, but that was clearly a mistake," I said.

Gunthor shook his head and said:

"No, that's not true. You were there because you know something that will remain true until the day she dies: she'll always be the one to tell you the truth. She'll always be ready to support you, and she'll always be there to advise you with your best interests at heart, simply because she's your mother."

I looked at him for a long moment before saying:

"We have more important things to do anyway. Arnold and Gerold will have to truly integrate the new hierarchy in the Vale."