The Driftmark accident was a complete blurry of distant voices. The yelling, the crying, the hatred, the pain— if only sweet dornish wine hasn't hugged him through the day, then he'll be able to remember exactly what had happened. But he can't recall anything more than a living emblem of his resentment. You.

Throughout the years, he hasn't been able to form a solid option about you. He does remember the soft sound of your padding behind him years ago when the family was still one and not a shredded attempt of one. Tugging at his clothes, brows furrowed without a clue of what he found funny about pestering everyone.

That time is long gone. Last he can dig inside his mind is the faint memory of your side of the family leaving the castle for good. It had been moons since he saw your gangly limbs and heard your annoying little voice. The mere sight of you, with those brown locks and brown eyes, a living mockery of what his entire lineage means.

Rumors have it about your mother's return. Something about amending the family cracks or so, he heard his mother saying. He paid no mind, truly. Why would he? You all are nothing but disgrace to the family name. That until his wine-dulled gaze fell upon you. The moons had been so, so kind to you, shaping a beauty that made his breath hitch.

He was no longer a boy. Never was. Tainted and aimed by carelessness, lack of warmth, and the familiar scent of home. Standing before you was nothing but a broken man. The same one you blessed with your kind, innocent eyes. Mirroring everything he wasn't. It made his blood run cold. He could take it all. Take it from you and give himself a chance to be as pure as you are.

A true vision of a maiden. Tongue flickering past his lips to moisten them, eyes dark and glowing with a desire that had nothing to do with the feast occurring. He could easily picture your flustered face glow beneath him as he takes what he wants. What he craves.

“Niece.” A greeting far from polite. His lips twisted into a smirk that did little to hide what he truly wanted from you. Violet orbs piercing your soul. Shamelessly eyeing you up and down like a desert laid before him to munch on. “You’ve grown.”