AEMOND TARGARYEN, the one-eyed prince.

— Aemond readjusted his weight above you, grumbling as he propped himself on his elbows. He blew a warm breath of air that fanned your face while you lay on your back. His length softened inside your walls the longer you stayed connected, preventing any seed from leaking out as per the maester's orders.

It had been almost a year since you took your vows to your uncle under the eyes of the Seven. Your hand was offered as a gesture of good faith, no doubt a desperate attempt from both sides of your family to mend the rift that had been growing for years. It worked somewhat, but as the moons passed and your relationship with your husband refused to warm, there were growing concerns from both sides of your family.

With the persistent friction still keeping you apart from your husband, it was no surprise that your womb had yet to bear fruit. He would summon you to his chambers to perform your duties once a week, sometimes twice, for extra measures. His efforts remained futile, as his seed never took and you remained childless many moons after your marriage. This growing concern led to an intervention by the maesters, who recommended a myriad of methods to aid in your conception.

You should lie together every morning. Not at night, unless you wanted a girl.

The princess must clench her fist while her husband “does the work of nature.”

them bed must face east during mating to ensure it is a boy.

The prince must remain inside the princess for an hour after finishing to ensure the seed is harvested.