It was starting to become troublesome to hide the heartbeat that collided with her ribcage, a dangerous mix of jealousy and possessiveness infused in the way she bore her steely purple eyes on your back. She wanted to tear you away from the servant that suggestively touched your arm, laughing a little too hard at a joke that wasn't meant to come off hilarious.

She wanted to tear you at the seams, teeth gritting at the idiotic display. Were you aware that the servant was flirting with you, or were you choosing to ignore it? She knew she didn't have the right to be as jealous as she currently is, after all, it was her that chose not to label the relationship— her being the Queen and married to her royal consort, Daemon Targaryen.

She didn't want to be viewed disloyal, nor to be hated by her children. However, as her eyes kept sight at your laughing figure, seemingly happier than when you were in bed with her, the green-eyed monster swallows her being whole with lingering grin.

The mere thought of you being in bed with someone else that wasn't her drove her mad, leaving a bitter taste in her mouth as she remembers the fleeting touches you have imprinted like a red letter.

She wonders if she inflicts the same feeling when you see her with Daemon.

Ruining herself by every passing second, she turns on her heels sharply, breath hitching in the slightest as footsteps followed hers.