Aemon Targaryen

N.A : Petit Chapitre désolé j'étais malade quand j'ai écrit celui-ci 

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-Chapter 163-

-POV Hugh the Tough-

'3 days' I thought, staring at my wife's grave.

I had hesitated to bury her outside the city so she could rest in peace, but I couldn't let her get far from me.

I used the forge's furnace to reduce her body to ashes and buried her ashes in the forge. I didn't know what stopped me, but I was physically incapable of letting her go.

'It's my fault, I must never forget it' I kept telling myself as I opened a bottle of beer.

I drank the whole thing in one gulp before throwing it against the wall, angry at myself.

'If she saw me now, she'd be ashamed of me' I thought, wiping the beer soaked into my beard.

I wanted to cry all the tears in my body, but I had none left.

I wanted revenge on everything and everyone.

For days, I kept asking myself one question — who had committed such a crime?

Every time I saw a man, I wondered if it was him who had raped and killed my wife without any mercy.

I wondered if I knew that man or if he was a stranger.

I wondered if he was a commoner or a noble.

I wondered if it was my fault, or if the killer had planned to watch me and wait for me to leave before striking.

I replayed over and over the last words I said to her.

The last look we exchanged, and…

"Hugh!!!"

I turned my head toward the front door, which had been violently opened by Ulf. He looked at me and said with a big smile:

"My friend, you'll never believe what happened to me, I just spent the most—"

He didn't even finish his sentence before I jumped to my feet and threw myself at him, pressing my elbow to his throat, choking him in his new clothes.

"IT'S YOUR FAULT!" I screamed, recalling our departure to the square.

'It's because of him I didn't stay with her'

'It's because of him I wasn't there to protect her'

"W-what… is… going… on…" he gasped, fighting for his life, pushing at my arm with all his strength.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!" I screamed right in his face before collapsing and letting him go.

'I'm a coward. The only one to blame is me' I thought, catching a moment of clarity to let him go despite the rage and sorrow choking me.

He stared at me, completely stunned, then quickly stepped back, coughing and trying to catch his breath.

"What the fuck is wrong with you, you bastard?!" Ulf shouted, looking at me like I was a demon straight from the Seven Hells sent to flay him alive.

I looked at him for a few seconds before finally standing up to open another bottle and retreat to the corner of the room to drink.

Ulf, still clearly afraid, stepped closer to me and repeated:

"What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing," I said, taking another swig.

"If Kat saw you like this, she—"

He didn't finish his sentence when he saw my sharp gaze flare up again as he said my wife's name.

"Don't say her name," I said, before adding, "Get out."

Instead of leaving, he realized this had something to do with Kat, and crouched down beside me.

"She left you?" he asked.

Not wanting him near me, not wanting to talk to him, unable to stop the resentment I felt toward him, I said:

"Leave right now."

"But…" he said before I cut him off by shouting:

"GET OUT!"

Ulf frowned, and just as he was about to say something, we heard the door open.

"Ser Ulf…"

We both turned toward the entrance, and I saw the young noble from the other day, accompanied by his two squires.

Ulf immediately changed expression, put on a slightly arrogant attitude, raised the collar of his doublet to hide the red mark on his neck, and walked out without even glancing at the young lordling, who tried to speak to him.

"Fucking lucky bastard," the young man muttered, glaring coldly at Ulf's back as he left the forge, before turning to me and throwing his frustration my way:

"I hope my armor is finally done."

I wanted to snap at him like I just did with Ulf, but I knew I could end up hanged for it.

So I forced myself to drag my feet to the back, brought out his armor, and placed it on the table without a word.

He wrinkled his nose, putting a hand in front of it, and his two little lapdogs didn't wait to bark.

"Move," said the first with disgust, before the second added, placing a hand on my chest:

"Step back, you reek of beer."

I looked coldly at his hand and clenched my fist tight before finally taking a deep breath and stepping back two paces.

'The faster he inspects the armor, the faster they'll leave.'

The young lordling inspected the armor for a few moments before finally saying:

"It's not bad, but it's not the quality expected from a capital blacksmith worthy of the name. You deserve half the payment for half the effort."

I cracked my knuckles, feeling the young lordling looking down on me, but I just wanted to be alone again, so I stayed quiet and caught the pouch he threw me like I was his dog, without complaining.

'Anyway, whether I earn more or less now, every coin I make will go straight into booze.'

'Maybe it's a blessing in disguise.'

"Your wife's not here?" whispered the second squire, eyeing me strangely.

I froze but said nothing.

The first glared at the second squire before motioning him to leave.

The second squire obeyed without a word, and they both left. But before crossing the door, he gave me one last look — with a mocking smile.

I stayed frozen for a good ten minutes before everything became clear.

'Why?'

That was the only question echoing in my mind.