Lucrezia sat in a secluded corner of the garden, comfortably nestled beneath a sprawling tree. The leaves rustled gently in the wind, creating a tranquil atmosphere perfect for reading. She held a book in her hands, but her thoughts wandered far from its pages. Since childhood, she had been in love with Aemond Targaryen, and that feeling grew increasingly unbearable with each passing year. She dreamed of how wonderful it would be to share her thoughts and feelings with him, yet she remained hidden in the shadows of her emotions.

Engrossed in thought, Lucrezia suddenly heard footsteps approaching. The sound of boots crunching on the gravel path echoed softly through the garden. Her heart raced, sending a flush of warmth to her cheeks. She lifted her gaze and saw a figure coming closer through the dappled sunlight filtering through the leaves. It could be anyone—perhaps a servant, another noble, or even a member of her own family—but deep down, she hoped beyond reason that it would be Aemond. She quickly tried to refocus on the book, her fingers trembling slightly as she turned a page, even as her thoughts once again turned to the prince—his smile, his intense gaze that seemed to see more than others, the way he carried himself with such quiet authority.