❝Lady Clarysse Baratheon of Storm's End, was a Lady that loved with all her being, she was the kindest person to have graced the Halls of the Red Keep since the passing of the Good Queen, Alyssane Targaryen. She loved the Royal Family with respectfu...
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The news that Prince Daemon had celebrated the death of his good sister and nephew in a brothel with his friends and the members of the Gold Cloaks, dubbing his nephew as 'Heir for a day', spread like wildfire.
No one took it well, not the King, after being informed by his council, not the Princess, who was in attendance at said council, and not Clarysse, who was told by Alicent, who had overheard someone tell her father. Out of all three, Clarysse looked the angriest, seething like a true dragon.
There were jesters at Court that nicknamed the Baratheon lady as 'dragon stag' or as 'stormborn fury', due to the bond between her and the Targaryen family. And there was no one that could deny that Clarysse didn't actually breathe fire when she was angry.
She marched to the Prince's chambers, her face twisted into something that was half rage half disappointment. Everyone jumped out of her way, flinching as they stepped near the Baratheon Lady.
The guards that were stationed at the doors of Daemon's chambers had little time to react as Clarysse pushed the doors open, entering and slamming them close behind her.
Daemon, who had been in his bed sleeping, naked by the looks of it, jumped and lifted his head toward the intruder.
"You have no respect do you?" Clarysse hissed out, her voice so fiercely and angrily that Daemon actually saw fire in her eyes. "Disrespecting your lēkianna (older brother's child). Disrespecting your lēkia (older brother)."
Daemon stood from the bed, not caring that he was naked, not caring that Clarysse had a clear view of what he looked like without any clothes. She had put herself in that position and if she had any problems with it, she could leave.
"Tis early in the morrow, Clarysse." Daemon replied, walking over to the table in the middle of his room, the scars that he'd obtained over the years from fighting in Tourneys and dragon-riding evident. "Must you shout?"
A noise that resembled a growl left the Baratheon Lady, her eyes narrowed and she closed the distance between them. The cup that Daemon had filled with wine was knocked out of his hand, which had Daemon exhaling deeply and turn to face Clarysse.
The younger Lady didn't give the Prince time to react, her hand flying from the side and connecting with his cheek, fast and hard, making a loud noise when it hit its mark. Daemon reacted instantly, grabbing Clarysse by the neck, his purple eyes locking with her brown ones furiously.
Clarysse didn't react as her neck was grabbed roughly and tightly, the defiance that had been on her face still there, growing with each second.
"What in the Seven made you think you can hit a member of the Crown?" Daemon growled in her face, he kept his hold tight but still allowed her to breathe. He had never been hit by anyone unless it was during a fight, much less a woman.
