The first time he approached the laundress for comfort was bizarre. She remembered nearly tripping over their crumpled clothing. The rush of breath and blood as their bodies joined in shudders. As the deed was done she remembers looking over at the rise and fall of his chest, muscled by swordplay. As she hangs sheets to dry they remind her of his platinum hair curtaining over her body. Even when she prayed to the Seven she remembers the song of their biting, breaths and grunts. How did the Sapphire-eyed prince decide to lay his claim on her?
Aemond was on his way to his chambers after a quick ride on Vhagar. The old dragoness still liked to hunt despite the dragon keepers always having a sheep ready for her flames. Somehow through their bond he knew she wanted to get away. His boots crackled on stone steps and the door swung on well oiled hinges as he entered his rooms. The room was draped in Hightower colors. Emerald green as deep sea framed his windows and thick quilted green covers his bed. On the wall above his desk he had pasted illustrations of old Valyria that he had scribes copy from ancient scrolls. He found he had too much respect for the old tomes he would never allow the originals to be desecrated in such a way. Even if he was a prince, he knew that knowledge was something to be protected, cherished. He lazily began to remove his riding leathers when he heard an intake of breath. His eyes raked upward and there she was. Holding a basket full of yesterdays linens.
She stammered at the sight of him. An apology on her tongue but her eyes never wavered from his one. "Forgive me Your Grace, I should have done this earlier, I was never meant to-"
"It's no matter" he dropped the eye contact first as his cheeks warmed. As if he remembered her. He cleared his throat. "Take these with you too" and it was her turn to burn as he continued taking off the riding leathers.
She was about to turn, give him his privacy when he murmured, words smooth as silk "Nothing you haven't seen before".
A challenge. A divulge of information. He remembered their tryst. Remembered her face. She had freckles, dusky skin warmed by the sun. Eyes of chestnut brown and hair to match. So unlike the icy Targaryen coloring the man before her possessed.
She never meant to bed the prince. Would never dream of going so far above her station. When their tongues collided in a wine sink hours after her shift. She never expected one such as him to be amongst such a bed of sin. It was only supposed to be a night out amongst her friends. A night of revelry and merriment. Never did she imagine the fire she'd bathe in. But now she felt like she was drowning. The trouble she could be in. His gaze, his single eye boring into her. She had to leave. She couldn't be wrapped up in this. But to leave a prince after a direct request could lead to some missing fingers. While his older brother was notorious for his cruelty towards worker-women. She felt Aemond wouldn't permit that. But if she was caught. Her agonizing was cut off by his soft voice "I enjoyed our night together, I've bedded many women for coin. Yet you were...our night felt true."
Her words rushed out before she could think. Words bubbling like rapids "I've thought of it often your Grace, but I need this job. I have a family that needs me. It can never happen again."
He gaped at her. Obviously he wasn't used to being denied things. He almost looked hurt. Guilt and longing clawed at her belly. He sighed and rose his hand in a flair of dismissal. She gratefully rushed toward the door. But not before stopping a few feet past him and whispering. "It felt true to me too, My Lord".
She hiked her basket to her hip and began her trek back down to the laundry rooms. Her mind buzzing as she raced down the stairs. Nearly bumping into the guards posted outside his door. She caught her breath at the bottom of the stairs. She tried pushing the handsome man's crushed face out of her mind as she though of her duties for the day. After dropping Aemond's linens off in the main cauldron we used to strip the soil off. She was to treat the sheets with essence of mint and lemongrass, then she was to hang them to dry. This was her favorite part of the day. The long halls of fragrant sheets swaying in the breeze. The smell of the sea rolling off the nearby rocks. If she could make it there she could relax. She was wringing the linens amongst steam and soap bubbles when she was summoned. Daffodil, the head laundress walked her out into the servants quarters before she told her what was going on. She was a heavy set women nearing forty now. "Now I don't know how this came to be but you're getting a promotion girl, I'll be sad to see you go but this is a good thing. Now all those high lords and ladies think they're the only ones playing a game. We're here to climb a ladder too. My superior says you've been requested to be chamber maiden for the little one eyed prince. If you get these people to depend on you and respect you. They'll see to it that you and your family will live in relative comfort. Now you'll be privy to his beck and call. So you'll get to move out of this bunk house and get your own room up near his chamber. Now these are dragons you're dancing with girl. See to it you don't get burned.
The laundress blinked. Not quite processing how much her life just changed after Daffodil updated her. She walked to her bunk, mind blank as she thoughtlessly cleaned out her cubby. Her other work dress and her shift she changes out of after work. The shift she wore on that fateful night. He barely knew her. She wasn't even sure how to be a chamber maid. She'd have to clean out his chamber pots. I'm sure he expected another night like their first. All while he never lifts a finger. Anger suddenly clouded her eyes. If he expects her to lift her skirts for him like some Bessie on the street of silk he had another thing coming. She'd do her job, she'd do it well and be the epitome of gracious service. But she wouldn't fall for his charm. She couldn't.