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Summary
"Who was your first kiss with?" Aegon asked, looking at a perplexed Aemond who didn’t know how to respond.
It had only been three months since he had claimed Vhagar — three months since he had lost his eye.
"Why do you want to know?" Aemond muttered, frowning.
Aegon, sitting across the table, burst into laughter.
"You're still just a kid who hasn’t had his first kiss!"
Aemond’s face turned red. He had had his first kiss. A beautiful one, actually. Surely nothing like his brother’s — probably with some random whore or a miserable maid. But there was no way he was going to tell Aegon who it had been.
"No, I haven’t," he lied calmly.
He would rather lie than admit the truth — that his first kiss had been with his nephew.
With the boy who had taken his eye.
With Lucerys.