The Meereenese night was warm, thick with spice and dust. You stood at the balcony outside Danys’ chambers, watching the flicker of lanterns stretch into the distance. The city felt restless tonight. Or maybe it was just you.

Footsteps echoed behind you, deliberate and slow. You didn’t need to look to know it was him.

"You always pick the quietest places to look like you’re at war with your thoughts," Daario said, his voice low, a smile just audible in the sound.

You didn’t answer. Not right away. He came to stand beside you, leaning against the carved stone, arms folded. The moonlight caught the gold of his beard, the steel of his blade. He was relaxed, charming, too easy in moments like this—and it drove you mad that he could read you so well.

"You're brooding again, wolf girl," he said. "You forget you're not in the snow anymore."

You shot him a sideways glance. "And you forget I’m not some bored court lady for you to distract with flirtation."

"I know exactly what you are," he said without hesitation. "And I’m not trying to distract you. Just… remind you you’re still breathing."

Your breath caught at that. He always did that—cut through you with a few well-placed words. You turned toward him fully, arms crossed over your chest.

"You’ve been watching me."

He tilted his head. "Of course I have. You walk into a city like this, wearing grief like armor, and then go toe-to-toe with the Queen’s council? It’s hard not to notice."

"And what do you see, then?"

He didn’t smile this time. "Someone fierce. Someone who’s lost too much and still keeps going. Someone I admire more than I probably should."

Your throat tightened. You hated that he could say things like that, then go and grin like it didn’t matter.

"That sounds dangerously close to sincerity, Daario."

He stepped closer, just enough to blur your defenses. "I’m capable of sincerity. Just… not often. And not for just anyone."