THE HEIR FOR A DAY
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112 AC, King's Landing
Valyria witnessed her first tournament when she was a young child of four summers. It was in celebration of her father's nameday and while she could not recall much of it, she remembered the feeling. The excitement from the cheering crowds and the happiness on the knights faces when they won. If she closed her eyes, it was almost like she had travelled back in time.
Dressed in a blood red dress of fine Myrish silks that left her shoulders and collarbones bare, her silver-gold hair styled into her signature look with the front strands braided into a bun at the back of her head, Valyria looked every bit like the Targaryen she was.
"Be welcome!" Viserys yelled out, trying to be heard over the cheers. "I know many of you have travelled long leagues to be at these games. But I promise you will not be disappointed. When I look at the fine knights in these lists, I see a group without equal in our histories. And this great day has been made more auspicious by the news-"
Valyria raised an eyebrow at Rhaenyra who had arrived late and tried to sneak into the royal box and to her seat without being noticed.
"-that I am happy to share: Queen Aemma has begun her labours." Everyone started clapping and cheering. Viserys finished by saying, "May the luck of the Seven shine upon all combatants!"
And so the tournament began.
Valyria did not really know what to think of the jousts. Some part of her found it amusing to see grown men get knocked off their horses, just because some of them truly needed it. But at the same time, it got a bit dull with time.
That's until a new knight entered the arena. "A mystery knight?" Rhaenyra asked in excitement from Valyria's right.
"No," Valyria shook her head, recognising the ten black pellets on scarlet displayed on the knight's shield. "That's the sigil of House Cole, of the Stormlands."
"I've never heard of House Cole," Rhaenyra said dismissively.
"Princess Rhaenys Targaryen!" Lord Boremund Baratheon said loudly, stopping before the royal box. "I would humbly ask for the favour of The Queen Who Never Was."
Valyria looked up at her cousin who sent a look towards the King before descending the stairs to give her kinman her favour. To be honest, Valyria did not know if that nickname was meant to insult Rhaenys or the King. She knew Rhaenys had been angered of being snubbed of a crown at the Great Council but Valyria had never understood why her cousin felt she had such a strong claim to the throne.
Valyria was the firstborn child of King Jaehaerys's firstborn son. Rhaenys was the firstborn child of the King's second son. If any woman had a strong claim to the Iron Throne it was her. Viserys had been granted Valyria's birthright, not Rhaenys's.
The only reason she had been such a strong competitor for the Iron Throne at the Great Council was because she for a long time had been the heir of the heir since Valyria's father did not marry until far past what was considered normal. And it helped Rhaenys that she had been an adult with children of her own, married to a powerful lord, while Valyria was a child with nothing other than her name.
But in the end none of that had mattered because they were women.
"Good fortune to you, cousin," Rhaenys said as she placed her flower crown around Boremund's lance.
"I would gladly take it, if I thought I needed it," Boremund said cockily. Then he rode out to prepare himself for the joust against the Cole knight and the drummers started playing.
"Lord Stokeworth's daughter is promised to that young Tarly squire," Rhaenyra told them.
"Lord Massey's son?" Alicent asked disbelievingly.
"Mm-hm," Rhaenyra nodded. "They are to be married as soon as he wins his knighthood."
"He should hurry then," Serra said with a smirk, sitting next to Valyria. "Rumour has it Lady Elinor is hiding a swollen belly beneath her dress."
Rhaenyra and Alicent looked at Serra in shock while Valyria snorted, used to her ladies ability to find out everything about everyone. When the two riders rode towards each other, they all watched and Valyria was impressed when the Cole knight knocked the Baratheon Lord off of his horse in the first round.
She clapped along with the rest of the crowd. "Serra, what is his name?"
"Ser Criston Cole?" Serra said, her attention still on the field.
Valyria waved for Ser Harrold to come closer and when he kneeled down behind their seats to get in level with her, she asked, "What do you know of this Ser Criston, Ser Harrold?"
"I am told he is a common born of Lord Dondarrion's steward," Ser Harrold explained. "But other than that, and the fact that he just unhorsed both of the Baratheon lads, I really couldn't say."
Valyria thanked him and did not get much more time to ponder over the mysterious Ser Criston because the drums echoed across the arena and the crowds cheered louder than ever at the encouragement of the Master of Revels who then announced, "Prince Daemon of House Targaryen, Prince of the City."
Daemon rode into the arena in his black armour, looking every bit like a Targaryen warrior. The Master of Revels continued, "He will now choose his first opponent."
Rhaenyra seemed to grow more excited from seeing her uncle enter the tournament but Valyria could only roll her eyes when he stopped and pointed the lance against his first opponent. She wondered if he understood how predictable he was being; how transparent his actions were.
"For his first challenge, Prince Daemon Targaryen chooses Ser Gwayne Hightower of Oldtown, eldest son of the Hand of the King!"
"How shocking," Valyria muttered as the knights prepared themselves. Beside Rhaenyra, Alicent started biting her nails, worried about her brother. No one knew how far the Prince dared to go to annoy the Hand and 'accidents' did happen.
The first time they rode towards each other, Ser Gwayne actually managed to hit Daemon who fell backwards but managed to stay seated. With new lances they rode towards each other again but this time, in a terribly foul move, Daemon aimed for the horse's legs instead, knocking them down from underneath it which sent the younger knight crashing to the ground.
Valyria felt more pity for the horse than the man lying on the ground. He had chosen to enter the lists, the poor horse had not. Therefore, she was relieved when the horse stood up again as a few men assisted Gwayne Hightower off the field.
Daemon rode towards the royal box and Rhaenyra walked over to the fence, "Nicely done, Uncle."
"Thank you, niece," Daemon said; he then looked over at Valyria who remained seated before turning to Alicent who had joined Rhaenyra. "Now, I am fairly certain I can win these games, Lady Alicent. Having your favour would all but assure it."
Daemon looked over at Valyria again, sending her a wink as Alicent fetched her flower crown. "Some people think it's more dignifying to lose with honour than to win by cheating," Valyria said in High Valyrian.
"Who said I'm either dignified or honourable, Princess?" Daemon shot back and once he had Alicent's favour he rode away. Valyria could hear her ladies attempting to hold back their laughter. She ignored them.
Hearing someone stand up behind her, she turned her head to see Viserys stand and walk out. She sent a questioning glance towards Otto Hightower who stood up from his seat, walked over and leaned down to whisper, "There have been some complications in the birthing chamber. The King asks you to stay here with Rhaenyra, Your Highness."
Valyria frowned in worry for Aemma. She herself was no stranger to the dangers or pain of childbirth anymore and Queen Aemma was by no means as strong as she once had been. And if there were complications big enough for the Maesters to call for the King it must truly be bad.
"For his second challenge, Prince Daemon Targaryen chooses Ser Loran Tyrell of Highgarden!"
Valyria's head snapped in the direction of the field and narrowed her eyes at Daemon who she could see smirk in her direction. Of course he was petty enough to challenge the Tyrell Lord because she said that she considered bedding him. If there was one thing Daemon could never do it was refrain from annoying her.
"Isn't peculiar how Prince Daemon chose to challenge Ser Loran now after the charming Flower Lord decided to take you for a promenade," Serra smirked suggestively.
"It's simply Daemon being Daemon," Valyria shrugged, and then she winced when the two riders charged towards each other and Ser Loran immediately was unhorsed.
As he celebrated his victory, Daemon sent her a wink and Valyria clapped slowly. But in a way, she had welcomed the distraction of being irritated with him because it kept her thoughts away from the Queen's wellbeing.
As the hours passed without any news, Valyria tried to keep her mind on the ongoing tourney but the repetition of two men riding towards each other, one getting knocked off and everyone cheering at the victor grew tedious quite quickly. And to make everything worse, Daemon continued to win, much to her disappointment.
When two riders continued the fight by hand, which turned into a brutal end for one knight who got his head bashed in with an axe, Valyria sighed, "I have never understood why wanton violence is how we celebrate everything. A birth, a wedding, a coronation - why turn something good into something so ugly."
"I am a firm believer tourneys were created by men who realised how useless their purpose was in the world and wanted to have something to do," Cecily said in a bored tone, looking down at the now very dead knight in disgust.
"These men have never seen real war and would probably not survive long in it," Valyria noted. The tourney continued and even more men died. Beside her, Valyria noticed how Rhaenyra seemed rather unbothered by all of it while Alicent was picking on her fingers nervously.
"Ser Criston Cole will now tilt against Ser Daemon Targaryen, Prince of the City!" The Master of Revels announced.
"Do you think Uncle Daemon will win?" Rhaenyra asked with an excited gleam in her eyes.
"I certainly hope not," Valyria said honestly. "Ser Criston has shown great talent. He has my full faith."
The two riders prepared themselves and when they got the signal, they rode towards each other at great speed. The first time, Daemon landed a blow against Ser Criston but as the two rode against each other a second time, Ser Criston managed to hit Daemon straight in the chest, sending him falling off his horse.
For the first time Valyria clapped along the rest of the crowd with some excitement, a smirk on her face. She'd never cheer - that would be very undignified - but that did not mean that she didn't enjoy seeing her arrogant cousin literally get knocked off his high horse. However, there was a small part of her that worried for Daemon's well-being; she ignored that part.
Especially when Daemon stood up, shoving away the squire that tried to help him and screamed after his sword. "Prince Daemon wishes to continue in a contest of arms!"
"He was always a sore loser," Valyria rolled her eyes. Of course Daemon's pride could not take a defeat with grace and dignity. She could not see his face because of the helmet he was wearing, but she just knew that there was a scowl on his face. That his dragonblood was boiling.
At first, Daemon's fury gave him an advantage; he delivered blow after blow against Ser Criston's shield with Dark Sister, forcing the knight backwards. Ser Criston did eventually manage to land a few blows against Daemon's shield with his morningstar, breaking it, but that small victory did not last him long for Daemon got the upper hand again quickly and managed to kick him to the ground.
However, somehow, Ser Criston got to his feet again and the fight continued. The crowds cheered and Rhaenyra was in awe of it all. Meanwhile, Valyria absentmindedly played with her necklace, until she caught herself doing so and straightened up just as Daemon managed to knock Ser Criston Cole to the ground.
A thunder of applause rang through the arena as Daemon rejoiced in his victory, turning his back to his opponent. "Bloody, arrogant, idiot," Valyria muttered, realising what would happen before anyone else did.
Because Ser Criston Cole had not been defeated yet. When Daemon was busy celebrating he stood up and knocked the Prince down with one blow, which actually made Valyria wince. Daemon tried to reach for Dark Sister, but the knight kicked it out of reach. Quickly, Daemon unsheathed his dagger but Criston placed a foot against his arm, forcing it down.
After a few seconds, Daemon yielded. Ser Criston offered his hand but of course, Daemon's arrogance could not take that so he simply slapped it away and stood up on his own. Rhaenyra excitedly dragged Alicent over to the edge while Valyria calmly stood up, her ladies copying her actions.
Ser Criston took off his helmet as he walked towards the royal box, revealing his handsome face and a bloodied lip. He had tanned features, like most dornishmen, dark hair that was cut at the nape of his neck.
"Gods, he is dornish," Alicent gasped in horror.
"No offence taken," Serra snorted.
"I was hoping to ask for Princess Valyria's favour," Ser Criston said, looking up at Valyria.
She had not expected that, but a small smile appeared on her face. Before she could even turn around, Serra appeared, holding her flower crown, made out of red roses. Valyria took it and tossed it down to Ser Criston who caught it. "I wish you luck, Ser Criston," Valyria told him. "And congratulations on such a fine victory."
"Princess," Ser Criston said, bowing his head slightly.
When Criston walked away, Valyria felt a pair of eyes burning into her from across the field. Dark purple eyes clashed with hers as she looked over at Daemon who was scowling deeply, a rage burning in his eyes that matched that of a dragon.
In response she simply smirked before turning around, only for her happiness to completely disappear when she noticed that Otto Hightower had returned and was currently informing the Small Council members of something. Valyria did not even need him to tell her to understand what had happened.
Queen Aemma had died...
.•° ✿ °•.
Queen Aemma's and Prince Baelon's funeral was a small affair. Just like Aemma would have wanted it. Valyria stood next to Daemon, behind Viserys and Rhaenyra, with her ladies standing a few steps further back. Cyrenna and Elara stood by her ladies, dressed in black dresses and they had tears in their eyes. All she wanted was to hug them and take them far away.
During the entire ceremony, she could feel Daemon's presence close to her. He stood about one foot further back than her so she could feel the front of his arm brush against the back of her own. She actually found it comforting.
Ānogara sat upon the hill overlooking the funeral pyre, next to Syrax who was waiting for her rider's command. But it was easy to see that both Rhaenyra and Viserys were far too stricken by grief. Valyria was too, of course, but it was different for her. Viserys had lost his most beloved wife and Rhaenyra her mother, and while Valyria loved Aemma like a mother, she was not as dependent on the Queen as the King and Rhaenyra.
Therefore, Valyria stepped closer to Rhaenyra and softly whispered, "They are waiting for you."
"I wonder, if during those few hours my brother lived, my father finally found happiness," Rhaenyra said sadly in High Valyrian.
"Your father needs you now, more than he ever has before," Valyria responded.
"I will never be a son," Rhaenyra said dejectively.
Valyria felt so sorry for Rhaenyra who clearly was rightfully heartbroken over her mother's death. So to take one burden away from her, Valyria looked up at Anogara who, as if she could read her rider's mind, crept down the hill a bit closer to the pyre. "Dracarys!" Valyria commanded and the scarlet dragon unleashed her fire on the pyre.
For minutes, they just stood there and watched the pyre burn. All of them were waiting for the King to be the first one to leave. Valyria remained by Rhaenyra's side, offering her comfort and when it was time to leave, she turned to see that Daemon had moved back to stand by her daughters. It surprised her when he bent down and picked both girls up with ease, whispering something to Cecily and Serra.
He sent her a quick nod her way before going back to speaking with Elara while Cyrenna rested her head against the crook of his neck. Her heart warmed slightly at the sight and for once she was actually grateful for his presence. For some reason she trusted him with her daughters, especially when she knew her ladies were with them.
Therefore, she could wrap an arm around Rhaenyra and offer her some comfort. "I can't claim to know what you are feeling, for I do not even remember my own mother, but know that I am here for you."
.•° ✿ °•.
"Why did Queen Aemma have to go?"
Valyria sighed and sat down by her daughters' beside. She had hoped to keep them sheltered away from the realities of life a little longer. Much like she had been too young to remember her mother's death, the girls could not remember their father. This was the first time they had lost someone that they actually knew.
"Because sometimes, little ones, it's what happens," Valyria told them. "When our lives here are over, the Gods claim us. And this time it was Aemma's turn."
"Will she come back?" Cyrenna wondered.
"I am afraid not," Valyria shook her head gently.
"Will the same happen to you?" Elara asked worriedly.
"Aye, but not for a very, very long time," Valyria leaned down to kiss both of their heads. "When I am old and grey and everyone is tired of me. Now rest my loves."
Valyria stayed with the twins until they had fallen asleep which took a bit longer than usual. When she finally returned to her own bedchambers. It had truly been a long day; first she had to comfort Rhaenyra and then she had to be there for her daughters. The next day, she should probably check upon Viserys as well.
Upon her entrance to her bedchambers, she dismissed her Kingsguard's offer to fetch a handmaid to assist her. She started by taking off her earrings and necklace and then she released the pins from her hair that kept it into a bun at the back of her head. Unlacing the back of her dress, with some difficulty, she walked behind the privacy screen to change into a thin night shift.
As she walked over towards her bed, she braided her long silver-gold hair to make sure it didn't knot too much during the night. But just as she was about to climb underneath the covers, she heard something and spun around to not find anything there. A little suspicious, she walked in the direction of the sound.
That's when she felt someone place a hand over her mouth and an arm circled her waist, pushing her back flash against a hard chest. The familiar warmth from his presence revealed who it was before he leaned down to whisper, "Do not scream, Princess, there is no need for that," close to her ear.
Valyria kicked back against his chin and elbowed him in the stomach, causing him to release her with a grunt, "What in the Seven Hells is wrong with you?" she asked angrily.
"Now that's not a very proper language for a princess," Daemon taunted, not even a little fazed by the pain she had caused him. It was all worth it to see her beautiful amethyst eyes alight with a burning anger.
"Get out!" she whispered harshly. "I do not care if you jump out of a window - but leave my chambers-"
"If you would just calm down for a few moments," Daemon told her in a low voice.
"Calm down? After you break into my bedchambers in the middle of the night?" she crossed her arms over her chest angrily. Daemon didn't respond, instead his gaze seemed to have fallen down slightly and it held an intensity she had never seen before. Looking down she realised that she had unintentionally pushed up her breasts, giving him a better view of her cleavage, "Did you want something, or is your plan to stare like that for the rest of the evening?"
Daemon took a step closer and the only reason she didn't back was that she didn't want to give him the satisfaction of thinking he had managed to get under her skin. "Is the latter an option, Princess?" he asked her, switching to High Valyrian, as he leaned down so that his warm breath fanned her neck.
"If you want to watch a sparsely dressed woman, go back to your whores," Valyria smiled sarcastically before pushing past him. Only she did not come far before she felt Daemon grab her arm and spin her around, pulling her chest flush against his. Their faces were only inches apart and for some reason it made her dizzy.
Up close, his sharp and handsome features were even more striking and his eyes seemed darker than ever, and they kept her trapped. She could not look away no matter how much her brain screamed for her to do just that. An unfamiliar feeling of warmth spread through her like dragonfire and she didn't know if it scared or exhilarated her.
"Do you think I would have made a good King?" Daemon murmured, not breaking eye contact for a second.
Without missing a beat, Valyria said, "No."
"And why is that?" Daemon asked, his voice darkening in anger. "Do you think I will be a second Maegor? Or perhaps worse?"
"No, but you are impulsive, arrogant, aggressive and vindictive among other things," Valyria answered, not even a little faced by his anger. "None of which are good qualities in a King."
A humourless laugh escaped his lips, the dangerous glint in eyes, "Anything else?" he dared her. His nose brushed against hers and his fingers hovered by her hips.
"Unreliable," Valyria told him, but this time her voice came out as more of a whisper. Her brain continued to scream at her to either punch him or push him away, but it was like she couldn't.
"Unreliable," Daemon hummed.
"Undependable, untrustworthy-"
"I understood the first time," Daemon interrupted her, brushing a piece of hair away from her forehead. Then he shocked her by gently pressing a kiss against her cheek, his warm lips lingering there for a few seconds. "Sleep well, Princess." Daemon pulled back like had been burned and she stood frozen.
What in the Seven Hells had just happened?
.•° ✿ °•.
The next day, Viserys had refused to leave his chambers all morning. Therefore, after leaving her daughters to their High Valyrian lessons, she decided to make a visit. After knocking on his chamber door, she only received a weak reply and upon her entrance she found him seated by the large model of Old Valyria.
"Valyria, were we supposed to break our fasts today?" Viserys asked, looking around a bit dazed, like he was still in shock.
"No, Viserys," Valyria said gently, stepping farther into the room. "I am simply here to check upon you." She sat down on the chair opposite of him. "If there is anything I can do, you only need to ask."
"Thank you, dear girl," Viserys forced a smile, but the pain behind his eyes was still there. "But I fear there is little you can do now - or at least not more than you've already done. I am eternally grateful for your assistance during these past days. Everything from being there for Rhaenyra when I could not to planning the funeral."
"It was nothing," Valyria told him. "Truly. But I feel like I should tell you that Rhaenyra needs you more than she needs me right now. She has just lost her mother, much like you have lost your wife, so be there for each other."
"I can't - I can't face her," Viserys said, looking away from her, pain so visible on his face. "Not after what I have done."
Valyria frowned, "What you have done?"
When Viserys looked at her again, his eyes were blank with tears and pain was mixed with guilt, "It is my fault," he confessed, voice breaking at the end. "It's my fault Aemma is dead."
"Viserys there is nothing you could have done," Valyria tried to comfort him. "It's not uncommon for women to die in the birthing chamber-"
"I killed her!" Viserys suddenly roared. "Mellos asked me to choose between Aemma or the babe," he said, voice barely above a whisper, "and I chose the babe. And the Gods punished me by taking them both."
Valyria needed a few seconds to process the information. All anyone had told her was that Aemma died giving birth, that she had bled out. It was not too much of a surprise considering how weak she had been during all of her pregnancy.
In a way, Valyria had always known it was Viserys' ambition to have a son that had killed his wife - it was the reason they continued to try for a child despite all the heartbreak and pain it brought Aemma.
A part of Valyria wanted to punch and scream at Viserys for what he had done. For how he had allowed his selfishness to cost Aemma her life. But she could not. No, because what was done was done and that last thing the realm needed now, after having lost a Queen, was for their King to lose himself in grief and guilt.
"Viserys," Valyria said in a firm yet gentle tone, as she stood up, "it is likely that Aemma would have died either way if Mellos asked you to choose. I was terrified before I gave birth to the girls and I admit - I threatened the Maester at Casterly Rock to tell me all the risks. Sometimes, there is just nothing anyone can do. And I know Aemma would not wish for you to dwell on the past - especially not now when Rhaenyra needs you."
"I met with the Small Council yesterday," Viserys confessed in a low voice, changing the subject. "To discuss the succession. And my heir."
Valyria grimaced, "Daemon? Is it official now? Will you name Daemon your heir?"
"Otto suggested I name my successor," Viserys told her. "And that I should name Rhaenyra."
Valyria cocked an eyebrow at that, "He did?" she mused. It was actually quite amusing to see how far the Hand would go to not have to risk bending the knee to Daemon as King. Valyria knew very well that Otto Hightower didn't want Rhaenyra to be the heir because he believed in the young princess. No, he had his own motives, she was sure of that. "Well, she is your firstborn."
"But a girl," Viserys pointed out. "Which means that naming her heir would break hundreds of years of traditions. Not to mention that it would destabilise the realm-"
"Which is also what will happen should you name Daemon heir," Valyria pointed out, suddenly she realised why he had come to her chambers last night. She doubted he had been invited to this discussion, but he probably had found a way to eavesdrop. "Perhaps you should do like our grandfather and call another Great Council," she snorted.
"You almost won over me at the Great Council," Viserys said, looking at her like a lost puppy. "Many lords in the realm were willing to accept you as their Queen. They were ready to see a woman on the Iron Throne."
"We both know how beloved my father was," Valyria smiled sadly. "I do not think they wanted me as much as they clung onto the idea of him being grandfather's successor."
"He would have made a great King," Viserys acknowledged. "A much better King than me."
"Perhaps, but we will never know," Valyria reasoned. How many times hadn't she thought about what would have happened if her father had lived. He would have been King Jaehearys's undisputed heir and there was no doubt in her mind that he would have been just as good as his father. Prince Daeron had been beloved all the way from the North down to Dorne - who hated the rest of them. "Just like we will never know what would have happened had I won the vote at the Great Council. And while the rest of us can offer our opinions, you are the one that must name your heir, Viserys."
"And what is your opinion?" Viserys asked her. "I know you and Daemon do not see eye to eye, but what do you believe to be best for the realm?"
"Daemon is impulsive, arrogant and while I do believe he'd love to be the King, he'd hate all the responsibilities that came with it," Valyria said honestly. "He is a warrior, not a politician. Ruling would only bore him."
"And Rhaenyra?"
"Rhaenyra is still young," Valyria said. "She probably won't understand the true responsibilities that comes with being the heir for a few years, but she'd be willing to learn. I do believe that with some guidance, she'd make a fine Queen."
.•° ✿ °•.
"Before we begin, Your Grace, I have a report I feel compelled to share," Otto Hightower said once they were all seated around the Small Council table later that afternoon. "Last night, Prince Daemon bought out one of the pleasure houses on the Street of Silks. To - entertain officers of the City Watch and other friends of his."
"Daemon has friends?" Valyria mused. "I did not know that."
"He toasted Prince Baelon," Otto Hightower continued. "Styling him 'The Heir for a Day'."
Valyria's dragon-blood ran cold and suddenly she had the urge to strangle Daemon. So that's what he did after leaving her bedchambers the previous night. The blatant disrespect and cruelty of addressing the King's son in such a way would have been enough of a betrayal had it not come from the King's own brother.
"I corroborated this report with three separate witnesses. The evening was by all accounts a celebration," Otto Hightower finished.
"That is outrageous," Mellos exclaimed in horror.
Valyria looked over at Rhaenyra who looked shellshocked. Unlike Valyria, she had always admired Daemon. And the look of betrayal on Viserys' face made everything worse because it wasn't enough that he had lost a wife and a son, now he would probably lose his brother too.
.•° ✿ °•.
"The Heir for a Day?" Valyria said when Daemon exited the throne room after his conversation with Viserys.
"We must all mourn in our own way," Daemon said dismissively, his face lacking the normal arrogant smirk as he turned to walk away in the opposite direction.
"Toasting the death of one's nephew in a brothel is not mourning, that is celebrating," Valyria called after him. She would never give him the satisfaction of chasing after him. "You should be grateful Viserys still loves you for some reason because any other man would have been beheaded for that."
With that she walked away in the opposite direction. Loud footsteps followed her and Daemon harshly grabbed her arm and pulled her into an alcove, pressing her against the wall. "He told me to go back to Runestone."
"Poor Lady Rhea. I do not understand why she should be punished for the actions of the man she was forced to marry," Valyria said with genuine sympathy for the wife of her cousin. "It's as if the Gods didn't think a marriage to you was punishment enough."
Daemon smiled sarcastically, "Funny."
"I wasn't trying to amuse you. I was simply expressing my sincerest pity for the poor lady," Valyria tried to shove him away but he didn't even move an inch. As a response he moved closer so that he caged her in between the wall and his body. "You are already on very thin ice with Viserys, should anyone find us like this, he will surely make sure that only your body is sent to Runestone while your head remains on a spike here in the Red Keep."
"If anyone comes by, I will kill them," Daemon shrugged. "I am leaving the Capital anyway."
"So there is light even in these dark times," Valyria said.
"This might surprise you, but I do like this Valyria a lot more than the little menace that left for Casterly Rock all those years ago," Daemon admitted, one of his fingers grazing her cheekbone and down under her chin to force her to look up at him. "Although, I do think there are better ways you can put that sharp tongue of yours to good use."
"Unfortunately, Ser Loran is planning on leaving the Red Keep soon," Valyria shot back. One thing she had learned about Daemon was that the worst thing one could do was show him when he got under their skin.
She had to fight fire with fire.
That glowering expression returned to his face, and Daemon sneered, "I am sure he is eager to return to his little flower castle to lick his wounds after our joust."
"At least he can return to the Red Keep when he wishes to," Valyria smiled sweetly. "But do have a good time in Runestone, cousin. And if it gets lonely," she leaned up to his ear, "I have heard that the sheep are pretty."
Using his moment of surprise she shoved him away. Without sparing him another glance, she walked away. For some stupid reason, her heart was beating hard in her chest and she had a feeling Daemon had noticed. The night had not gone as well as she had planned.
For as long as she could remember, Daemon had enjoyed teasing her but this was different. Since she returned, he had a way of making every conversation they had into something less than innocent. And what bothered her the most was that simply being near him enlighted a fire within her that her late husband had failed to ignite during their marriage.
It bothered her to no end because she had truly grown to care for Lucian. For a Lannister, he had been quite sweet underneath all that golden snobbishness, and he had always treated her with respect. He made sure she was comfortable during her entire pregnancy and whenever they performed their marital duties he would make sure her needs were taken care of.
Daemon on the other hand never treated her with respect and cared little about her at all. She was simply an annoying cousin to him that he all of a sudden felt the need to pursue. Valyria knew she was beautiful and Daemon had never learned to hold back the urge to get inside any woman he considered to be pretty.
Since she wasn't an innocent maiden, Valyria was not blind to his intentions and insinuations. And had she not loathed his very existence, she might actually have considered it. If not for any other reason, she was a bit curious to see if he lived up to his reputation. But she'd never give him the satisfaction of simply giving in.
There was no doubt in her mind that had she asked him to, he would have fucked her against the wall in the middle of the hallway and after that, he would have lost interest and moved on to the next woman.
It was probably for the best that Daemon left for Runestone.
That way she'd be able to focus more on helping Rhaenyra without his constant, lurking in the shadows.