The death of Daemon's wife, Rhea Royce, was certainly a sad one, a sad one to all those but Daemon himself. The Bronze Bitch was a pest, a barren pest. She gave him no son's not even a daughter, only misery. Daemon had found himself often rejoicing about her death as it allowed him to wed Laena Velaryon, and eventually his current wife and niece, Rhaenyra Targaryen.

But as rumors of a young Lady/Lord with silver-hair waltzing around Runestone reached both Daemon and Rhaenyra's ears, Daemon felt a mix of anger and confusion. Had his first wife truly carried and delivered his child in secret, without informing him of it? A Targaryen raised with Royce's? An infuriating thought. So Daemon did the first thing he could think of. He mounted Caraxes and flew to Runestone.

The sight that appeared before him when he arrived was less than appealing. The looks one the servants faces told him all he needed to know. He had a child older than any of his other children, and he had not a clue. Because House Royce and Rhea kept it from him. Daemon's eyes blazed with a silent fury as he stared at a man of House Royce before he unsheathed his sword and pointed it at the man.

"You shall bring me the child, my child, or I shall bring myself your head."

Daemon's words were firm and a threat, leaving the other man no choice but to do as Daemon said. Daemon kept his sword unsheathed whilst he watched the man rush off, once the man was gone, Daemon sheathed his sword and glanced around the halls observantly.

Daemon's gaze suddenly snapped in the direction of approaching his footsteps, his gaze landing on a young woman/man with silver-hair. His child. A child kept secret from him, was now staring at him face to face. Daemon was silent as he looked them up and down, they had his silver-hair, that was for certain, but they also held the appearance of their mother at the same time. Unfortunate. Luckily it was mostly his genes that prevailed.