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Summary
“Take whatever part you wish, uncle,” she gritted out, a stubborn child resolute to win the grim game they were now playing.
Aemond's smug grin stretched even wider. “Will you hold to that, niece?”Daenys gave him her own sharp grin in turn. She would not be cowed by anyone, let alone him. “You have my solemn oath: whatever part you want of me to pay the debt, you may take it as long as it is with your own hand.”
“Fine. In that case I’ll take your hand.”
She almost laughed at the delusion, the notion that Aemond -- studious, serious, physically ungifted Aemond -- would be able to even begin to slice through her wrist without fainting. “My whole hand? Do you prefer the right or –”
“In marriage, niece.”