RED QUEEN | DAEMON TARGARYEN

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

When Valyria returned to the Princess of Dorne's apartments she found Daemon standing out on the terrace, elbows leaned against the railing as he looked out on the gardens below; his tunic hung over a chair and he now wore only his thin white undershirt. In one hand he held a goblet of wine, swirling it absentmindedly.

Valyria approached him and said, "Rhaena and Baela didn't seem to hate their new bedchambers, so I take it as a victory."

"These are yours?" Daemon asked, turning to look at her as he put the goblet down on the stone railing.

"Yes, they belong to the Princess of Dorne," Valyria nodded. She'd only been sleeping in them since Qoren passed since they always shared a room. "I will have a chamber prepared for you as well-"

"Are you eager to get rid of me already, my menace?" Daemon straightened up to his full height.

"No," Valyria responded. "But it's common for husband and wife to have separate chambers-"

"Common that is the same as ordinary. Neither of us are ordinary," Daemon placed his hands on her hips, pulling her flush against him. "Besides – why would I want my lovely new bride anywhere else but in my bed."

"My castle, my bedchambers, my bed," Valyria corrected him. "One that you are welcome in at any time even though it's mine."

"Ours," Daemon corrected as he began guiding her backwards, fingers untying the laces of her dress. "A bed I now believe it's time to break in."

.•° ✿ °•.

Daemon Targaryen was not happy to wake up to a cold bed – which he found ironic considering the warm climate in Dorne.

He'd fallen asleep holding his naked wife and now – when they had a perfect opportunity for a morning round – she had already left; beside him, Daemon found a note written by Valyria explaining how she needed to look over a few matters of state.

After breaking his fast with the children – without Valyria – he spent a few hours in utter boredom. His daughters had lessons and he had absolutely nothing to do. In his youth, on days when he didn't have any duties to perform or people to speak with – and sometimes even when he had important things to do – he'd either drink in a tavern with the City Watch, visit a brothel or beat other men to a pulp in the training yard.

Drinking himself to oblivion would temporarily solve his boredom only it would simultaneously ruin his chances of getting in Valyria's good-graces. He recalled her obvious disgust that morning in the throne room when witnessing his hungover state; some of it probably had to do with his nightly rendezvous with Rhaenyra yet he didn't wish to risk anything. And drinking alone could only be considered pathetic.

Visiting a brothel felt like a death sentence. Valyria expressed her doubts about his fidelity before their wedding and the last thing he needed was to prove her right. More importantly he had little desire to lay with any other woman now when he had Valyria.

Going to the training yard seemed like the best option. Only Daemon didn't know what could happen if he – on his second day in Dorne – beat some dornish cunt to a pulp. Until after luncheon he remained in his chambers, reading through a few Valyria scrolls.

Then his patience had been tried for far too long and therefore he decided to see if he could locate his wife. Meeting a servant girl in the hallway he asked her for the princess's whereabouts – in the most polite way he could muster – and the nervous girl directed him to Valyria's solar.

Ignoring the Martell guard guarding the door, Daemon entered without being announced. Inside he found his beautiful wife sitting by a large desk, orchid eyes snapping up when he entered. "Daemon?" she said, standing up and his attention immediately went lower.