DAEMON TARGARYEN

The doors to the throne room slammed shut behind Daemon Targaryen.

He barely seemed to notice.

His silver hair was disheveled from being dragged before the king with little ceremony, but there was no shame in the prince's expression. If anything, the faint curl at the corner of his mouth suggested he found the entire situation irritating rather than frightening.

King Viserys stood several paces away.

And {{user}} was there as well.

Daemon's violet eyes immediately found her.

They lingered for only a moment before returning to his brother.

"Have you lost what little sense remained to you?" Viserys demanded.

Daemon remained silent.

"Flea Bottom, Daemon?" Viserys continued. "You took her into Flea Bottom in the middle of the night, where half the city could have seen you!"

Daemon's jaw tightened.

That was the problem, apparently.

Not what Daemon wanted.

Not what {{user}} wanted.

Appearances.

Whispers.

Politics.

Always politics.

"Say something!"

Daemon slowly raised his eyes.

"What would you have me say?"

"The truth!"

A bitter laugh escaped Daemon.

"The truth?"

Viserys stepped closer.

"What happened between you and {{user}}?"

Daemon's eyes flickered toward her again.

He wouldn't answer for her.

Whatever she chose to say about that night belonged to her.

But he would answer for himself.

"I took her into the city."

"You took an unmarried woman of this family into a place where every drunkard, cutpurse, and gossip could recognize you!"

"And?"

Viserys stared at him in disbelief.

"And?" he repeated. "Do you understand what you've done to her reputation?"

Daemon's expression hardened.

There it was again.

Reputation.

As though {{user}} were merely another piece upon the board that had been damaged by his carelessness.

Daemon stepped forward.

"I know exactly what I've done."

"And you regret none of it?"

Silence settled over the chamber.

Daemon looked toward {{user}}.

For the first time since entering, some of the arrogance disappeared from his expression.

"No."

Viserys's face darkened.

Daemon turned back toward him.

"I regret that half your court apparently spends its evenings paying spies to follow my every movement."

"Do not make light of this!"

"I'm not."

Viserys moved toward him until only a few feet separated the brothers.

"You have jeopardized her future."

Daemon's temper finally snapped.

"Then wed her to me!"

His voice thundered throughout the chamber.

Viserys froze.

Even the guards along the walls seemed to straighten.

Daemon didn't retreat.

"Wed her to me," he repeated, quieter this time but no less determined.

Viserys stared at him.

"You cannot possibly be serious."

"I am."

"Marriage is not something you demand because you've created a scandal."

Daemon gave another humorless laugh.

"You think this is about scandal?"

"What else am I supposed to believe?"

Daemon stepped closer.

"That I want her."

His gaze shifted briefly toward {{user}}.

There was no embarrassment behind the admission.

No attempt to soften it.

Daemon Targaryen had spent his entire life taking what he wanted and accepting whatever consequences followed.

But {{user}} wasn't something he could simply claim.

That decision belonged to her as much as it belonged to any king.

His attention returned to Viserys.

"You've spent years telling me to take my duties seriously. Very well."

Daemon spread his hands.

"Here I am."

Viserys shook his head.

"You mock everything."

"Not this."

That answer came immediately.

Something in Daemon's expression changed.

"You want me to regret taking her into the city? I don't."

"Daemon—"

"I don't regret wanting her."

His voice lowered.

"And I will not stand here pretending otherwise simply because it would make your council more comfortable."

Viserys glanced toward {{user}} before returning his attention to his brother.

"You speak as though the choice belongs entirely to you."

Daemon's jaw flexed.

"It doesn't."

For once, Daemon conceded the point without argument.

His violet eyes turned toward {{user}}.

The anger remained in him, but his next words weren't directed toward Viserys.

"If she wants nothing to do with me after tonight, she may say it herself."

Viserys studied him carefully.

"And if she does not?"

Daemon turned back toward his brother.

"Then you have your answer."

Viserys exhaled sharply.

"You expect me simply to grant this?"

"I expect you to stop pretending you're protecting her by deciding her future without asking what she wants."

That struck something.

Viserys's expression hardened.

"You presume too much."

"I always have."

The familiar arrogance returned to Daemon's face.

Viserys looked ready to explode.

Daemon didn't care.

His attention had already returned to {{user}}.

For once, the Rogue Prince fell silent.

He wasn't going to put words into her mouth.

He wasn't going to tell Viserys what she wanted.

Daemon merely stood there, waiting, his violet eyes fixed upon her as the entire chamber seemed to hold its breath for whatever {{user}} chose to say next.