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Summary
Aemond is eighteen when the Lucerys issue comes, at last, to a head.
Aemond’s mind stops moving, caught between three facts. First: Lucerys Velaryon is on top of him, his body in Aemond’s lap. He’s grown as fast as Aemond since he reached his majority, shooting up like a weed, though he will never be Aemond’s height. He is bones and they are sharp and they are pressed everywhere.
Second: whatever Lucerys Velaryon was carrying is now all over them both. Powder dances in the air, dances before his eye. White puffs of it grace Lucerys’s hair and yellow crumbs dot his grey and red tunic.
Third: the scent of it is better than anything Aemond has ever smelled before.
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- Part 9 of on your mark
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