𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧'𝐬 𝐎𝐚𝐭𝐡

A Loud Objection

The maiden delicately brushed Aegon's silver-white locks, her fingers moving through the strands like a gentle breeze. "Your hair is a cascade of moonlight, a rare and extraordinary beauty," she whispered, her eyes reflecting admiration.

"It's as if the gods themselves painted this ethereal silver upon your head, my prince..." Maiden spoke softly, while the other women rubbed oil on his hands.

Aegon's piercing gaze bore down upon them, his eyes ablaze with a tempest of grief and anger. The vivid memories of Thereya's brutal death lingered, a haunting specter that gnawed at his soul. His heart ached for her more than he allowed himself to admit.

The cold metal of chains bound his hands, a cruel reminder of his fate. Yet, despite the physical restraints, it was the emotional chains that weighed heaviest on him. The anguish etched across his face told a story of a wounded soul, still grappling with the unforgiving reality of her tragic end.

Aegon found himself confined within opulent chambers in the heart of Qarth, a lavish sanctuary that oozed wealth and extravagance. The walls were adorned with intricate gold leaf patterns, casting a warm, regal glow across the room. The furnishings, from the grand bed draped in sumptuous silks to the polished table laden with a bounty of exotic fruits, spoke of luxury beyond imagination.

A towering balcony beckoned, adorned with intricately crafted gold railings that framed a breathtaking view of the bustling city below. The air carried the scent of spices and the distant murmur of merchants haggling in the markets, a stark contrast to the gilded tranquility within.

Sunlight streamed through sheer curtains, casting a kaleidoscope of colors upon the marble floor. Velvet cushions adorned every available surface, inviting indulgence and comfort. In this chamber of decadence, Aegon felt both the allure of its grandeur and the weight of its golden chains, a luxurious prison in the heart of a great city, Qarth.

As the maiden delicately applied the fragrant oils to Aegon's skin, her voice took on a flirtatious lilt, her sweet words dancing in the air like a seductive melody.

"Oh, my prince, your skin is as smooth as the finest silk, a canvas deserving of the gods' admiration," she cooed, her eyes glinting with mischief.

Aegon, however, felt the undercurrent of her advances, his disdain growing with each sugared compliment. He met her gaze with a cold, piercing stare, a silent warning etched across his face.

"Be cautious, fair maiden," he spoke, his voice a low, threatening rumble. "Your sweet words may find a willing ear elsewhere, but not in this room."

The maiden, undeterred, continued her attempts at charm. "My prince, do not worry, your eyes hold the strength of a dragon's gaze, fierce and commanding."

Aegon's disgust intensified. "Know this, woman, if my hands were free from these chains, they would find their place around your neck before you could utter another word of false flattery. I would strangle you if I could
Save your breath for someone who may be fooled by your charms."

The room, once filled with the scent of oils and subtle seduction, now hung heavy with tension. Aegon's icy gaze warned against any further attempts to ensnare him with honeyed words, the threat of his fury lurking beneath the surface. The women went silent and continued to work around.

"What does your cunt of a lord want from me and my family?" Aegon asked, his patience running low and his rage only growing.

The maiden met his gaze for a second then continued brushing his hair, "He wants you to marry his three daughters. And one day when he goes among the Gods, the city of Qarth will be yours."

"Three daughters? There is no way in seven hells I would do such a thing." Aegon scoffed and spoke with disgust.

"I'm afraid my lord doesn't care about your needs and wants. He needs grandchildren." Maiden replied calmly.