Androw heard the door to his chambers open, which caused his eyes to peel open to see whom it was. Androw squinted as he spotted his child in the doorway, a tired smile then graced his lips.

"What do you need, little dragon of mine?"

Androw questioned as he stared at them. His silver-haired gift, the only thing Rhaena had given him that brough him joy, his child, sired during the first and only time she let him bed her.

Androw was proud of himself, proud that his child had always came to him when they needed something. He knew Rhaena viewed it as a slap in the face, and he viewed it as his one victory over his wife.