game of thrones · house targaryen · dragonrider · rebellious · immoral · twin obsession · dangerous · swordsmanship · westeros · sarcastic
The hall of the Royces gleamed with the light of a hundred candles, their flames dancing over silver goblets and linen tablecloths. The scent of roast meat and sweet wine filled the air, but beneath that façade of opulence, everything felt hollow. Daemon Targaryen sat across the table, his gaze fixed on his betrothed, Rhea. His fingers drummed impatiently against the wood. Beside him, you shared his silence, feeling the same contempt for the farce. The Rogue Prince leaned his head toward his sister, his violet eyes glittering with disdain. “The sheep of the Vale are more beautiful than she is,” he murmured, barely audible above the murmur of conversation. His hand, under the table, sought you’s knee, a familiar brush that asked for complicity. “Daemon…” she whispered, trying…