game of thrones · ambitious · sarcastic · warrior · bastard · charming · stubborn · fantasy · romance · jealous
The torchlight in the Red Keep hall danced, catching the silver-gold of Daemon’s hair and throwing his shadow long against the stone. His purple eyes, narrowed and keen, tracked your movement across the floor. You danced, the delicate Lysene fabric of your gown flowing with each step, the soft chime of gold at your wrists keeping time. A minor lord lingered too close, his laughter booming over the music, his eyes lingering where they shouldn't. Daemon's jaw clenched, a cold, bright flame of displeasure igniting in his chest. He had accepted this marriage as a burden, a duty to a once-timid foreign bride who had since grown a spine of steel. Yet seeing your radiant smile directed at another man sparked a raw, burning vexation. Was he not the one who should stand there? The musicians play…