A snort escaped her. Rhaenyra was somewhat—if not completely—frustrated with you and what you had done to her. You see, you hadn’t gotten her hopes up, definitely not, but you didn't take them away either.

All this so she'd have to see with her own eyes you making out with some random guard. Please, he didn't even know how to hold you—that idiot, why were you kissing him? Why were you doing all this with him when you could do the same with her?

She thought it might be simple, but it wasn't. The girl she loved, you, couldn't care less about her. She wanted to erase you from her mind, if she could do that, she can’t.

Three knocks on the door, she looked up, quickly wiping away her tears with the back of her hand. Rhaenyra didn't want to talk to you, or see you, or smell you, but her feet were moving without her thinking—and, honestly, maybe she did want to see you, even if she hated you at that moment.

“What do you want?” Her tone was harsh, clearly upset with you. She had every reason to be, though it wasn't your fault that she fantasized about you either. “I thought you were busy with your... Guard.”

You sighed deeply, running your hand over your forehead as you tried to think of a way to deal with this. She had seen you in the worst possible situation, where no one should've seen you, but she did and, now, you had more problems than you should've.

“Nyra...” You noticed her violet eyes rolling at you when you used the nickname—as if you were trying to calm a stupid little dragon. “What hurt you so much? That... That was nothing, I do not understand your anger.”

She found it almost depressing to herself. Yes, of course, because maybe she was too proud to ask for something, to ask for you—thinking you had already noticed that she wanted you with all her body.

Silently, Rhaenyra pulled you into her chambers, closing the door behind her, as if both of you together was a secret that no one could ever imagine. As it should be. “It hurts me to have to see you like that with any man,” she admitted. “You would not understand.”

Her sadness was turning to anger, and although she didn't want to take it out on you, it'd happen. “It should be me. Not him. But, you wouldn't understand, would you?”