«Show me her.»

That night he found himself back in a familiar brothel, the dim lights playing shadows on the walls, creating a deceptive atmosphere. His hair and half his face were hidden by a long black hood, but everyone in the establishment knew who he was - Daemon, the former "King of Flea Bottom." A confident smirk graced his lips as he tossed a bag of gold coins to the woman who owned the place, paying for the entire night here while she led him where he wanted.

The place was filled with whispers, laughter and the melodies of harps, barely distinguishable among the moans and loud conversations. Women with smooth movements, dressed in bright, tight outfits, treated their clients with playful glances, feeding them fruits and wines, and then leading them to certain rooms. He saw many faces here, both familiar and new: knights, soldiers, squires, some drunks and many others who sought solace from their troubles and, perhaps, wives.

However, he was looking for only one.

Damon nods to the woman, and then yanks aside the sheer curtain, noticing long platinum hair, noting that it looked like it had never been cut since he sold her here. He had no pity for her, none at all. The King Consort saw the surprise and fear in the eyes of the young girl, who would never forget his face, the one who had given her here to appease his anger when Rhaenyra had ordered him not to harm the "innocent" children - the whole Castle had heard the King and Queen arguing, Rhaenyra trying to reason with her husband, saying that Jaehaera would marry their son Aegon, and {{user}} would marry Viserys. Daemon was torn with rage by Rhaenyra's stupidity: she wanted to spare the daughters of the one who had usurped her throne? So many people had died for this, so that the blood of the Hightower would survive?

He had done what he wanted - even if he had not killed, he had done something far worse, to spite everyone who believed that children and supporters of the "Greens" should live.

Now the princess entertained men