Almost Lover {Complete}

Chapter Twenty-Four

Camilla sighed, her hand finally stilling on a dark red velvet gown. Knowing she had no time to spare, Camilla pulled the dress out threw it over a nearby chaise. Her nightgown slipped off of her lithe body, pooling around her feet. As she turned to grab her shift she found the garment held out in front of her.

Violet eyes trailed over the pale skin. Camilla found herself admiring the toned chest and broad shoulders, tracing the mottled and scarred flesh from Daemon's time in the Stepstones. When her gaze finally lifted to his face she was greeted by a familiar smirk. Camilla rolled her eyes, taking her shift from his hand and quickly putting it on in an effort to avoid Daemon's gaze.

The Targaryen Prince chuckled as he lifted the burgundy gown from the chaise, bunching the fabric and lifting it over Camilla's head so she could slip into it. The heavy sleeves parted as Camilla's arms slid through, and her head peeked through the neckline. Without a word Daemon stepped behind her and began to lace her gown, his rough fingers traced up her spine as the fabric closed, hiding her bare skin from his heady gaze. When the leftover ribbon had been tucked into her dress, Daemon stepped forward, pressing himself flush to Camilla and wrapping his arms around her waist.

Camilla's head fell back against his shoulder, melting into his touch as her hands gripped his own, pulling his arms tighter around her frame. Her head tilted slightly so Daemon's lips could press against the delicate skin behind her ear.

"The day has finally come after so long planning for it." Camilla hummed. "I had dreamt of this moment so many times it does not feel real."

"It is as real as you and I." Daemon whispered, his breath hot against her skin. "Our son shall be crowned in the eyes of the realm and will sit upon the Iron Throne. You have won."

"I haven't, not yet at least. I will not count this as a victory until Rhaenyra and all those who support her are dead."

"Then I will bring you their heads as a gift, my heart." Daemon nipped at the skin behind Camilla's ear as his hand trailed up her body to her chest. "I cannot wait to fuck you in our ancestral home, I will bend you over the painted table where Aegon the Conqueror planned his take over of this realm."

Camilla turned in Daemon's hold, pushing a hand against his chest. "You will have to wait, we have a Small Council meeting to attend." She pushed Daemon back, stepping from his arms and moving towards the door. "Do get dressed, dear, we have a King to crown."

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The room was dark, only the dim light of candles lit the room as the members of the Small Council entered the room. The lords grumbled as they found their seats, annoyed at being woken before the sun had risen over King's Landing.

"What is it that could not have waited an hour?" Lord Tyland complained, looking around the table at the other Lords' weary faces. "Was Dorne invaded?"

"The King is dead." Otto responded, pausing for a moment to let the news settle. "We grieve for Viserys the Peaceful, our sovereign and friend."

"Before my husband's death he named Daemion as his heir, he even signed a proclamation." Camilla sat up straighter in her seat at the head of the table, nodding to the Grand Maester. "Orwyle, you produced copies as I requested?"

"Yes, Your Grace." Orwyle answered, passing the document Viserys had signed to Lord Beesbury beside him.

Camilla knew most of the Small Council was loyal to her cause, she only doubted the Master of Coin and the Lord Commander of the King's Guard. Lord Lyman Beesbury was an honorable man who had known Viserys for nearly half a century, and Lord Harold Westerling had been Rhaenyra's sworn protector before he succeeded Lord Ryam as Lord Commander. There was no telling if he would stand by and allow Daemion to be crowned or not, though if Camilla was to bet on it like those in Fleabottom she doubted they would disagree. Behind her Daemon's eyes remained locked on Lord Harrold and Criston stood against the wall near Lord Beesbury.