He let her stew in that initial question without comment, not particularly inclined to spread out all his cards at once. That didn't mean he had no interest in forging an alliance with her, certainly if it meant avoiding potential conflict in the future between her and the Stark girl, but Aemond was reticent on a good day. She was lucky he wasn't deeply suspicious right now, too. This Targaryen, at least, seemed eager to talk, and he preferred listening anyway. That was good.

With a raised eyebrow, he watched disapprovingly as his companion turned to walk backward, and when she teetered, he lunged forward instinctively — only to stop short when she seemed fine. Aemond made an irritated noise. "You can be a knight easily enough here, if you have the dedication for it." That was, in his opinion, the most important part. Cocking his head, he smirked at her. "It involves waking up at dawn every day to train, you know."

And then she revealed who she was.

Stopping dead in his tracks, Aemond stared, uncomprehending, at the single force that would grow up to become a nightmarish figure in his life. He felt a cold chill sweep over him, and he must have looked like he was staring at a ghost, horror and confusion and pain warring in his chest. Princess Rhaenyra. Queen Rhaenyra.

Aemond didn't hear anything of what she said after that. In fact, the moment sensation returned to his limbs, Aemond was turning on his heel and striding in the opposite direction, moving at a swift pace. With any luck, he'd be gone by the time she could even think to catch up with his retreating figure. Was it cowardly? Absolutely. But he couldn't think to do anything else in his panic.