~The Blood of Old Valyria ~
Chapter X
A scream. It was piercing and terrifying.
Rhaenyra shuddered in bed, but didn't open her eyes. Just a nightmare.
The scream was repeated.
No, she is not asleep. Someone is really screaming. Rhaenyra rubbed her eyes and rose up on her elbows, looking around the room. It was empty.
"Did you hear it too?" Laenor's voice came from the left.
The princess gasped, completely forgetting that she wasn't alone in the bedroom tonight. How could she have forgotten...
"Yes..." Targaryen replied sleepily, touching her feet to the cold floor. The time had long since passed midnight. The events of yesterday would have seemed like a dream to the princess if not for Laenor sitting on the other side of the bed. There was nothing between them. When they got to their room they settled into bed, too tired to do their marital duty.
Once again a scream was heard, but this time it turned to a howl. Rhaenyra shuddered. Who could scream like that? She got out of bed, threw her robe over her thin nightie, and left the bedroom. Laenor soon followed her out. The pair headed in the same direction as the frightened servants.
"Rhaenyra!" The princess met her father's gaze. Viserys was pale. Stepping closer, Rhaenyra discerned drops of sweat on the king's face.
"What has happened, father?"
Viserys brought a trembling hand to his face and ran it across his forehead.
"May the gods be merciful to Lord Daeron...," Rhaenyra heard somewhere nearby. From the open door came moans and inhuman howls.
"Lord Dayron is suffering from terrible pains.... The Maesters are trying to help him, but the milk of the poppy has no effect at all," Lionel Strong answered in Viserys' place. "They are not drawing encouraging conclusions. It looks as if Lord Daeron will be dead by morning."
Rhaenyra stared at the Hand in surprise and then entered the room that belonged to Dayraena's consort. She wished she hadn't. Her stomach twisted at the disgusting odor. The princess didn't know what it was and probably wouldn't have wanted to know if she hadn't seen Dayron's feet and the healers bent over him. The lord's limbs were covered in blisters and burns, blood pouring from the burst skin. That's what it smelled like. Burnt flesh. Rhaenyra couldn't stand it and turned away. How could Maesters look at such things? The girl felt as if her stomach couldn't take it.
She left the room with a rush.
"Where is Lady Dayraena?" people whispered. They had no idea what the couple's relationship really was. Rhaenyra looked worried. Indeed she did. Where is Dayraena?
The girl stood beside her father. She wrapped her arms around herself as the screaming sounded again. She felt eerie as the image of a man lying on a bloody bed appeared before her eyes.
Suddenly the lords and ladies fell silent, as if frightened. All heads turned in the same direction. It was Dayraena and Lucerius Gelarion heading towards them. Something in the look of Dayraena, her face, had changed. And only Rhaenyra could notice it. As Dayraena passed by... The eyes. Her eyes expressed genuine amusement.
Rayena tried to control herself, but she couldn't. She couldn't control her joy. The feeling was creeping out, preventing her from making a concerned face. Dayraena must give the crowd a beautiful performance. Show them that there was love between her and Dayron. Show that Dayraena treasured their marriage.
Lucerius, who had been holding his older sister's hand until then, released her and stopped beside the royal couple.
How would a woman whose husband she loved was dying in such agony feel?
The woman crossed the distance from the door to the bed and froze. The game could not be delayed. Too bad, because she wanted to laugh at Dayron unbearably. Within seconds, Raena was on her knees beside the bed, covering her face with her hands and pretending not to be able to look at the man's emaciated face and mangled legs. In just a couple hours, Dayron's body had dried up and covered in horrible bloody sores. The woman forced herself to squeeze out a scream, and with it, tears. What a performance...
Admittedly, she hadn't expected Dayron to be so resistant to death magic. How is he still conscious?
She felt someone's hands on her back and turned around. It was the maester, looking at her sympathetically. His small, faded eyes beneath the bruises were worried.
"I'm afraid he won't live to see the morning..." the old man said, pressing his lips together as if he felt guilty.
Dayraena stared at him, trying to squeeze out as many tears as she could.
"What..... What's wrong with him? How could something like this happen...?" she mimed a shaky voice, and then covered her mouth with a hand and bowed her head, showing that she was terribly shocked by such news.
The maester shook his head. His assistants fidgeted and whispered. Apparently none of them realized what had happened to Dayron. No one had thought that Valyrian magic was to blame.
"Are you telling me you don't know?!" Raena exclaimed, showing anger. "Then what are you for?"
The healers lowered their eyes to the floor in shame, not knowing what to say. The woman gave them an icy stare and rose from her knees, ordering them to leave the bedroom on the pretext that she had to say goodbye to her husband.
The healers lowered their eyes to the floor in shame, not knowing what to say. The woman gave them an icy stare and rose from her knees, ordering them to leave the bedroom on the pretext that she had to say goodbye to her husband.
Dayraena exulted in her heart. Today was definitely the best day she had had in all the years she had lived. Part of her couldn't even believe it was happening. Was this really happening? Not a dream? Not a blur? No... She really is seeing the man who has tormented her for years. But now she's looking down on him, mocking him, tormenting him.
Dayron's cracked lips moved. A hoarse moan escaped them:
"I'm begging you..."
Dayraena's eyebrows rose. The corners of his lips twitched, revealing a grim smile.
"It's too late to beg me for anything," an icy tone pierced the man's hearing. He mewled and howled with hopelessness and despair. Dayron realized what he had done only before the inevitable and terrible end. "You will beg forgiveness from the gods if you meet them."
Dayron howled again. The woman looked him over, stopping at his ugly legs. The smell in the room was repulsive, but Dayraena tried to ignore it. She was curious to see the result of her efforts.
Apparently a new wave of pain came over Dayron. He screamed and the maesters were immediately in the room. She wasn't at all worried about her dying spouse telling her what his wife had done to him. No one would believe it. How could the most lovely lady of the seven kingdoms do such a thing?
She left the room, breathing in the fresh air. Perhaps after the smell of burning flesh and pus, any air would seem fresh, even the scents of Flea's Bottom. Dayraena looked at the people present. Among them, she spotted Daemon.
He stood leaning against a pillar and watched what was happening. What was more interesting was watching Dayraena. The prince stared at her intently, penetrating the woman with his gaze. There was no doubt in his mind that she was to blame for her husband's agony. Otherwise, how else to explain her searching for a book on death curses on the second day of her arrival? Two days ago, when the unpleasant incident at the brothel had occurred, the woman had been very angry. As they drove back to the castle, Damon could feel how much hatred emanated from Rayena. Targaryen had no doubt that there were more reasons for such an act. And he admitted to himself that the dark side of this enchanting lady mesmerized him, attracted him, enthralled him, bewitched him....
Daemon saw the similarities between them.
Rhaenyra walked up to the woman and took her hand, looking into her eyes with thoughtfulness. The princess didn't know what to say, didn't know what words Dayraena wanted to hear now, or if she wanted to hear them at all.
Gelarion shifted her gaze from Daemon to Rhaenyra and smiled slightly, showing that she was fine. Raena squeezed her dear friend's hand lightly and took it to the side, out of sight.
"Did the Maesters say what happened to Dayron?" The girl asked, stopping in front of the balcony overlooking the royal gardens.
Dayraena shook her head.
"No, they don't know anything," she said, putting her hands on the cold stone of the railing. The cool night air cooled the woman's face slightly. She hadn't even realized she'd been hot all this time. The excitement of what was happening was fading. "I'm sorry that the night after your wedding is marred by such a frightening event. I'm sorry."
"You have nothing to apologize for!"
But Dayraena had a lot to apologize for. After all, she was the one who ruined her husband. She needed to apologize to the princess, even though she knew nothing about it.
Lucerius appeared on the balcony with Daemon standing behind him.
"He's dead."
Rhaenyra froze and looked at Dayraena. The prince immediately noticed the changed look in the variegated eyes; he caught the moment when satisfaction flashed in them. Her face became relaxed, as if a heavy burden had fallen from her shoulders.
She covered her eyes, listening to her sensations and emotions. Relief, joy, awe and triumph. She inhaled deeply, feeling her lungs fill with cool air, and then exhaled.
This was it.
The beginning of her new life.
Everything seemed different. The sun shone brighter, the bed seemed softer, the washing water warmer.... Even the maids were more welcoming. Her hair was gathered low and then she was helped into a black velvet dress. It was simple, without any patterns. A plain black dress with a closed neck. A dark veil was pinned on her head that covered half of her face. Dayraena felt like a doll. In the morning she was completely in thought or listening to herself, to her feelings.
The burning of the body took place outside of King's Landing. A memory of saying goodbye to Queen Aemma appeared before Dayraena's eyes. It was the same place as it had been then. Only now, instead of her and her son, Dayron's body lay on the logs, and on the hill, instead of Syrax, the huge Egarax was rising.
Dayraena stood directly in front of the wooden structure with the body. Behind her, holding hands, stood Lucerius and Daera, followed by everyone else. Dayraena took a step forward.
She had long envisioned this moment. No longer did she want to procrastinate. It was time to end this once and for all.
"Dracarys!" The word slipped from her lips very easily.
Egarax hissed up the hill. Whereas Syrax in the past had to walk up to the fire to light it, the silver beast only needed to bow its head slightly.
Dayraena and the others moved farther away so the fire wouldn't hit them.
White flames erupted from the dragon's huge mouth and engulfed its body. It flared up like a match. Dayraena watched it mesmerized. Egarax, sensing his mistress' trepidation, rumbled.
The woman felt a strong arm around her shoulders. Lucerius smiled slightly at her. Dayra, on the other hand, took her sister's hand and squeezed it. They both realized how important an event today was.
***
"What now? Are you going to Essos?" Lucerius asked, and then downed the wine goblet.
Daera, Dayraena, and Luci were gathered in one of the rooms reserved for the Gelarions. They sat around a round table and drank wine. Dayra was holding little Ayneria, who was watching the adults with interest and kept reaching for the wine goblet. Apparently she was curious about what her parents and aunt were drinking, but Dayra kept it away.
"Yes," Rayena nodded, leaning back in her chair and closing her eyes. "Mayreia said I could stay at her mansion in Pentos.... But before I go on my long-awaited journey, I have some business to finish. So I'll be here for a little while longer."
"Don't forget that you have to meet with Greina and Daylor," Lucerius reminded her of Dayron's parents. Dayraena froze as if struck by thunder, then ran her hand over her face, moaning.
"The seventh hell..." the woman finished her wine in a gulp and set the goblet down on the table with a loud clink.
...Just when you're starting to think you've got it all figured out, you have another problem....
"I'll write to them about their son's death. I'm told our aunt and uncle are in Dorne, so they'll be here soon enough. I think you should prepare yourself mentally to meet them. You know well enough that their tongues are wicked," Lucerius said, looking sympathetically at his older sister.
Dayraena waved her hand in agreement that he should write the letter.
"I shudder to think of the last time I saw them," Dayra said grimly. "Such scandalous people are to be found....."
"Oh, it's going to make a lot of noise..." Dayraena leaned her elbows on the table and rested her head on her palms, sighing heavily. "It's a headache. Sometimes I think the gods hate me."
"I didn't know you believed in them," Lucerius grinned, taking his daughter from Dayra's arms. Ayneiria clung to her father and squealed happily.
"Perhaps it is for my disbelief that they are punishing me," Dayraena grinned grimly, watching her niece.
Dayra shook her head.
"No one in our family was particularly religious. And no one was as lucky as our dear sister."
"Maybe they're taking it out on me." Dayraena said thoughtfully, staring at one point.
Lucerius shrugged and smiled crookedly.
"I wish this would all be over soon..." the younger Gelarion said quietly and sighed, looking at Reyena.
"If you wish, you may go back to the Isle of Flame," Dayraena shifted her gaze from her brother to her sister and back again.
Lucerius shook his head, frowning.
"No, until we see you leaving the capital on Egarax with our own eyes, we will not return."
Daera nodded, agreeing with her consort's words.
Dayraena felt a warmth spreading through her body. How nice to feel cared for and loved. She really appreciated this part of the family. Meirea, Dayra, and Lucerius. They were the ones who had shown older sister that not everyone did not care about her suffering.
She would do anything for them.
***
Looking up at the sky, Reyna sees a vast blue expanse that seems endless. The sun shines brightly, outlining all the clouds around with golden light. They hang in the sky like fluffy carpets, moving smoothly with the light breeze. The clouds seem to be doing a slow dance against the blue sky.
Beneath Egarax stretches the boundless sea, blue and calm. The waves play in it, rising and falling as if dancing.
And she rises higher and higher, moving away from the sea surface.
Raena flies on the silver dragon, enjoying the magnificent view. Every movement of Egarax seems magical, mesmerizing and very powerful. The woman looks around and sees a red castle in the distance. A happy smile blossomed on her lips and she spread her arms out to the sides, feeling the gusts of wind fanning the sleeves of her dress. A light laugh escaped from her chest.
Egarax opened his mouth and made a squeak-like sound, then shook his head. Dayraena lovingly ran her hand over the hot silver scales and leaned over, touching her lips to it.
"Sōvegon, ñuha jorrāelatan zaldrīzes,(fly, my lovely dragon) she said. "Hēzīr iksi dāez..."(From now on we are free).
Egarax roared, as if rejoicing.
Dayraena looked ahead until she saw something approaching from the side. A piercing squeak cut across her ears, so loud and thin was it. The woman turned her head to the right and smiled when she saw who was heading towards her. It was the Blood Warm Caraxes, and riding him was none other than Daemon Targaryen.
The woman didn't even realize she had a smile on her lips.
The scarlet dragon flew as close to the silver dragon as it could. Dayraena had to rise in her saddle to see the prince. He was smiling slightly.
She couldn't see it, but Daemon was looking at her with admiration. It was as if one of the Valyrian goddesses their ancestors had worshipped had appeared before him. The ruler of the vast sky and sea and rider of a silver serpent that could destroy cities with deadly flames. He watched her white curls flutter in the wind, gazed at her smile, wishing he could keep it in his memory, noticed how tense the woman's hands were gripping the saddle straps and how hard her breasts heaved. Daemon noticed the smallest details, wanting to keep the image of the goddess in his memory.
They flew in silence, enjoying the sound of the waves, the wind, and the rumbling of the dragons. At first Dayraena thought they were going nowhere, but when Caraxes flew ahead, the woman realized Targaryen's intent. They were heading somewhere after all.
As it turned out, they were headed for Dragonstone, an ancient Targaryen stronghold. Egarax and Caraxes circled over the gloomy castle, while Dayraena peered up at the Dragon Mountain beneath where the winged lizards lived. As they circled around the back of the island, Dayraena noticed some movement below, just above the surface of the sea. It was a dragon she could barely make out. The pale gray lizard glided above the surface of the water, occasionally catching fish from it. Noticing a large shadow looming over it, it twitched and flew in the other direction.
Dayraena assumed it was one of the wild dragons that inhabited the island. This one was clearly a loner.
After circling a bit more, the dragons landed near the gate. Dayraena descended, stepping on the wet sand. There was a strong wind blowing from the sea, but it didn't stop her from admiring the view. She looked around the cliffs and caves, looking at the huge gates and the stone dragons that adorned them. Then Reyna looked at the prince, who was silently watching her. They didn't utter a word. They didn't need to. Dayraena conveyed her admiration with her eyes, as did Daemon. But he, unlike Gelarion, wasn't admiring the scenery, he was admiring her. The beautiful silver-haired maiden.
He silently invited her to follow him, and took her hand in silence as well. Darmon took off his gloves to touch her skin, he wanted to feel her warm flesh in his cool palm.
Reyena walked with her eyes covered. Raynor Gelarion and Aenar Targaryen had set foot on this land together, just as Damon and Dayraena did now. They walked the land of their ancestors, and though it was not the first time the prince had done so, he felt the same sense of excitement and awe that Rayena did. They walked leisurely toward the gate where they were to be met by the unflappable guards of Dragonstone. Two large men opened the high gate at the sight of the prince and his companion. Dayraena paused for a few seconds, mesmerized by the beauty of the black stone castle. The majestic Targaryen fortress that shrouded itself in thick fog had an aura of its own. It was frightening, yet alluring at the same time. It was as if the castle was shrouded in a haze of mystery. The lady wanted to see it, to study it, to touch the ancient walls, to feel the history that they kept.
Dayraena stared mesmerized at the castle. It wasn't until a few minutes later that she noticed that Damon's hand was no longer warming her palm, but resting on her waist. She caught a glimpse of the prince, but his gaze was fixed on his family's ancestral castle. Reyena scrutinized the man's profile, bathed in the rays of the golden sun. Daemon turned around, feeling the gaze on him. Dayraena was smiling faintly. The sun streamed through his lilac eyes, making them light and radiant.
Dayraena tried to listen to herself. What was she feeling as she looked at the prince? A pleasant trepidation, excitement... Anticipation. She was curious to know why they had come to Dragonstone. What did the rogue prince want from her?
Daemon cast occasional glances at his companion. It was very peaceful, which surprised the prince. He had never felt this way with anyone, not even Rhaenyra. Dayraena did not belong in this world, in this time. This woman should live in Old Valyria, that's where she belonged.
They climbed the winding stairs and finally reached the entrance to the ancient castle. They were greeted by guards and servants who bowed to the arrivals. Some of them looked puzzled at the sight of the silver-haired lady, but most of them were no longer surprised. This wasn't the first time a Targaryen had brought girls here.
Daemon decided not to linger in the hall, so he led Lady Gelarion to his chambers. The room was large and cool. It had a fireplace, a balcony, a small dining table and armchairs, finely embroidered tapestries on the walls, and a wide bed with a burgundy canopy, an ottoman, and a bookcase with a tall mirror at the end. After Damon and Dayraena, the servants came in to light the fireplace. It'll be night soon enough, which means it'll get colder.
"You must be hungry," Targaryen ran his fingertips across the surface of the table and looked at the servants who stood waiting for further instructions.
Rhaena faltered, feeling strangely awkward. The complete incomprehension of what was happening prevented her from thinking. She wanted to be alone with the prince and ask him why they had come to Dragonstone. Only now was her mind beginning to wonder what kind of panic might be raised at Red Keep when they discovered Daemon and Dayraena missing. But it would probably be Lady Gelarion who would be more worried about.
Damon, without waiting for a reply, ordered the servants to fetch wine and prepare something, and quickly. Then Targaryen pulled back one of the chairs, inviting the woman to the table. He seated himself across the table.
"Why are we here?" Dayraena finally asked the question that had been plaguing her. She glided her gaze smoothly around the room, noticing how the scarlet light of the sun fell on the tapestries, giving the dragon images an ominous look.
Damon rested his elbow on the arm of his chair and propped his cheek on it. His gaze was deep in thought, as if he were trying to figure something out, to understand...
"I'd like to know myself..." the prince replied cryptically, smiling slightly. Dayraena looked at him questioningly, waiting for the next words. "I gave in to a second impulse and decided to come here..... I thought you might be interested in seeing the ancient Targaryen fortress."
Well, Daemon was right about that.
"I've always wanted to visit this castle," Rayena admitted. "Not only your ancestors lived here, but mine as well. I've only seen it from above. We used to fly around it with my brother and sisters when we were young."
"I think I have a confession to make to you," he said suddenly, catching the perplexed look in the multicolored eyes. "There's something about you... Not just your beauty, but what you're capable of... draws me in, mesmerizes me."
Dayraena looked surprised. She certainly didn't expect that. What did he mean by what she was capable of? About magic, or about... What she'd done to Dayron?
The woman frowned, unsure of what to do.
"I'm not going to judge you for killing your husband."
Dayraena froze, staring into the prince's eyes. Oh, gods. So he had figured it out. And how to behave in such a situation?
Noticing the woman's confusion, Daemon smiled encouragingly. He didn't want to make Rayena uncomfortable. On the contrary, he wanted to show that they were alike, that she didn't have to be afraid or embarrassed by him.
"I can't judge you, because I did the same thing myself," he said.
Dayraena sucked in air noisily through her nose and swallowed. So Gerald Royce's accusations had some basis after all.... Gelarion caught herself feeling relieved.
Servants entered the room with trays, allowing Dayraena to catch her breath. As soon as her goblet was filled with wine, she immediately downed it. Plates were placed in front of Damon and Rhaena, and a honeyed chicken was placed in the middle of the table. The woman felt her stomach rumble. Strange, she hadn't felt hungry before, apparently she was too absorbed in her thoughts and the conversation with the prince that she should have continued.
When the servants left, there was silence in the room, broken by the clattering of table settings and the crackling of logs in the fireplace. Dayraena cast rare and cursory glances in the prince's direction, wondering if she should ask the question that interested her.
"Ask anything, Dayraena, we have nothing to hide anymore," the prince grinned.
Reyena laughed softly and briefly.
"You're right," she nodded, resting her elbows on the table. "Why did you do that?"
Daemon thought for a moment.
"Marrying Rhea wasn't my idea. Viserys wanted it, thought I needed to settle down, and picked a mate who wasn't right for me. We didn't have a single happy year of marriage, she was insensitive, she liked to mock me, and I was not well liked in the Vale.... But back to the reason I did what I did. I killed her because I wanted to free myself from an unnecessary marriage. Viserys wouldn't have agreed to a divorce," Daemon explained, sipping from his goblet. "What's your reason? What made you go through with it?"
Dayraena pressed her lips together and looked away. She didn't want to tell this to a stranger. But on the other hand... She wanted to stop holding it all in, as she had done for years. The past would now be in the past. A new life and new memories lay ahead of her, and the old ones should be left behind, erased.
"I was married to Dayron by my parents. They thought he was a good match. I think he only wanted to marry me because of my beauty. Dayron wanted a submissive and beautiful girl, but he was out of luck. I wasn't submissive. And he didn't like that, of course. He had a bad temper, and he often raised his hand at me," Damon's expression turned stern. "I refused to be a mother. Knowing the kind of man Dayron was, I didn't want to deprive the innocent of a happy childhood. And then I found a spell that allowed me to take away Daeron's legs. From then on my life became much easier, but I could no longer bear even his presence. I was sick of it, and I wanted my freedom, so I did it. Killed my husband."
Damon didn't know how to react to her words. He could feel the rage rising in his soul. Hatred for Dayron Gelarion. He wished he'd known sooner and finished the bastard off personally.
"I'm sorry you had to go through that."
A sad smile appeared on the woman's lips.
"I'm free now. After all these years, I want a quiet life in Essos," Dayraena sighed dreamily, imagining herself traveling on the back of her silver friend. An interesting thought suddenly flashed through her mind. "Do you want to go there with me?"
Daemon squinted his eyes, the corners of his lips twitching. It was a very tempting offer. Traveling through Essos with a gorgeous woman like Dayraena... What else could he dream of? He would be free to do as he pleased. There would be no Otto Hightower, there would be no boring court with arrogant lords...
"I will accept your offer with great pleasure," the prince smiled openly. "When do you plan to go there?"
"In a couple of weeks, I have some business at the castle to attend to," Dayraena was pleased with Targaryen's answer. Her heart fluttered, forcing her mistress to take a deep breath.
"Is there anything I can do to help?"
"No need, I can manage on my own," she nodded gratefully to Damon and smiled.
The sun was almost over the horizon, and now the room was lit only by the candles and the fire that burned in the fireplace. It made the room feel cozy. Dayraena was warm and relaxed. She and the prince sat in silence again, watching the mesmerizing dance of the flames. The woman no longer cared that someone would be looking for her, that they would raise panic. It didn't matter. She felt fine now and didn't want to worry about anything else. Everything will work out in time, and in the meantime, Reyna will enjoy the evening in the company of a man she sympathizes with....
"Damon..." she said quietly, drawing the dragon prince's attention to herself. "Would you like me to show you something unusual?"
The man looked at her with genuine interest. Dayraena poured some wine into her goblet and whispered something in valyrian. Then stood up and walked over to the fireplace pouring out the wine. After a couple of seconds the fire turned a purple color. Dayraena turned around to see the prince's reaction. There was a look of surprise and admiration on his face.
"It's not all I'm capable of," the woman grinned, returning to her seat.
"Trust me, it'll impress anyone who's never seen magic in their life," Daemon replied with a soft half-smile.
Dayreena noticed that the wind had picked up, its howls becoming frightening. A storm seemed to be coming. Dayraena loved rainy weather, it encouraged reflection, but this time the thunderstorm and downpour pushed her to something completely different....
At first she was drawn to sleep, the crackling of logs, the sound of the raging sea and rain were soothing. Dayraena wrote it off to the wine as well. Daemon, noticing his guest's condition, rose from his seat and approached her, reaching out a hand to help her up. She touched the warm skin of his palm and stood up. Swaying slightly, Reyena snuggled up to the prince, resting her nose against his shoulder.
This night of freedom. She is free to do what she wants without fear of any punishment. Dayraena can finally give herself over completely to her desires. And the first thing she will do in her new life is spend the night with Daemon Targaryen. A man she had a genuine affection and interest in, a man who had opened up unknown feelings for her.
"You know, Daemon. You make me feel..." she was silent, trying to find a word for the feeling she was experiencing. "I feel the same feelings I felt that night in the brothel. The same desire, the same heat."
The prince understood her perfectly. It seemed that being close to this woman could drive him mad. He put his hand around her pretty face, his hot palm warming her cheek. The woman covered her eyes, savoring the sensation. The fire in her chest grew, burning and consuming everything in its path. All that was left was a bright and incredibly strong desire. The desire to be in the arms of the dragon prince. The desire to feel his lips on her body.....
Daemon admired Reyena's face. She felt a light kiss on her forehead, then her nose and cheeks. The Targaryen did not reach her lips. Not yet.
He wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her, pulling her close to him and heading closer to the bed. Dayraena breathed heavily and bit her lips, anticipating a glorious night. When Daemon lowered her back to the floor, his fingers slid to the lacing of her dress. Reyna ran her hand through his hair before pulling it back slightly so that the man tilted his head back, revealing his neck where the marks of long ago burns were visible. Her lips lightly touched the damaged skin, awakening more desire in Targaryen.
The dress was unbuttoned. Damon pulled the woman away from him so that the garment could be removed. They did not take their eyes off each other. Darmon stared into the mesmerizing multicolored eyes and slowly ran his fingertips down her back, taking his time sliding the fabric off her desirable body. Damon wanted to be very gentle. After learning how she had been treated by Dayron, there was no way he wanted to hurt her.
"This will end the second you want it to, fine?"
Dayraena nodded.
- Dayraena at the burning of her spouse's body.