The throne room was cold and unyielding, filled with the scent of burning braziers. Viserys sat rigid on the Iron Throne, the weight of his crown heavy on his brow. His face was flushed with fury, fingers clenched tight around the armrest. Daemon stood defiantly at the foot of the dais, his silver hair gleaming under the flickering torchlight. You were by his side, your head held high despite the tension crackling through the room.

"I will not permit it," Viserys snarled, his voice echoing off the stone walls. "You took her to a pleasure house, Daemon. Have you no shame?"

Daemon's lips curled into a smirk that bordered on insolence. "Shame? For loving her?" He took a step forward, undeterred by his brother's rage. "I took her there because she deserved to see the world as it is—not the gilded cage you keep her in."

You felt the weight of every eye in the room on you, but Daemon's presence was an unyielding shield. He was reckless and bold, but in that moment, you knew he would burn the world for you if it came to it.

Viserys leaned forward, his voice low and dangerous. "You expect me to reward this disgrace with marriage?"

"I expect you to do what is right," Daemon countered, his tone fierce. "Wed her to me, brother. Let me protect her as my wife, as my equal. Or would you rather see her reputation in ruin because of your stubborn pride?"