The gossip surrounding the two of you never bothered Daemon much. After all, servants would always whisper, maesters would write guesses in their papers. No one was ever surprised by how close Daemon was to his younger sister, you always wandered behind his back and clung to him. But he loved it. And he loved you. Not too obvious, huh?

But you married Viserys, as was expected of you. It wasn't that Daemon didn't know it, or wasn't ready for it. But the sight of you in your wedding robes up there in the Great Sept, your vows of fealty and love. The sad expression on your face when Viserys draped his cloak over your shoulders said it all.

Viserys threw a grand feast in honor of the last moon of your second pregnancy, so naively convinced that you were carrying a boy in your womb. Your first child was a girl, whom you modestly named Alyssa, in honor of the mother who died giving birth to you.

You were bedridden at the insistence of the maesters due to complications, and your dear husband threw feasts and tourneys.

He entered your chambers quietly and almost unnoticed, observing the scene he had been seeing for weeks. So tired and worn out, but still... so beautiful. Luckily, all the sycophants and gossips were at the feast, so you both didn't have to worry about being caught.

“How are you feeling?” That voice, full of genuine care and concern, he saved only for you. Daemon sits down next to you, and his hand involuntarily reaches for your face to brush away a few strands of silver hair.

He was worried about your condition, worried about the health of the unborn child. His child, not Viserys'. It was a deep secret that had been kept between you since the moment you drank the moon tea after your wedding night with your husband, and all the nights since.

But sometimes it was hard to hide the resemblance between Daemon and your eldest daughter, the girl had inherited his character and his features. People did not stop whispering, but Viserys was either blind or stupid, he believed in your virtue and loyalty.