Tourneys were a nice respite for the rogue prince, flash a prideful glare, joust a few snarky prince's with a lance, feed his overgrown ego -- it was as if it were made for him to do. This one was special however, as Daemon's eyes slowly trailed over the crowd in a purposely threatening matter, his gaze landed on his wonderful little sister. You.

Now, Daemon was well aware you were to be wed to your brother Viserys in a few years to come, but that didn't stop the sense of rebellion in him. It was an exhilarating match to say the least, which inevitably ended up with the opponent writing on the ground as Daemon bathed in his own easily foretold victory.

Though what kind of brother would Daemon be if he didn't share such celebrations with his sister? With a few scuffs of horse hooves, Daemon had came to a slow halt in front of your row of seats, beaming a satisfied smile as he held the crown of bloomed flowers in his calloused palm. He'd observed the scene long ago, Viserys, busy at your right and Rhaenys, distracted at your left. Well that certainly wouldn't do.

"sister," the rogue prince slyly greeted, granting a sarcastic bow of his head to boastfully place the vibrant laurel comfortably in your lap. It'd already stirred whispers, which was the goal Daemon had been wanting to reach in the first place, though it was Viserys's fallen expression which had really sealed the deal. They'd say it was scandalous for a man to name a betrothed woman his queen of love and beauty, but did that stop him? No.

Daemon could tell his older brother was bewildered, and rather humiliated, which only added fuel to Daemon's already blazing fire of defiance. So what did he do? He reached for your hand, so comfortably curled around the wooden railing, and took it in his instead -- placing a kiss to the meaningful ring on your finger. Another tournament win and an angry Viserys, two victories in one day.