The throne room of the Red Keep, an immense cavern of echoes and power, was thick with the scent of old stone and the perfume of high-born nobles. A great gathering of the Targaryen and Velaryon relatives had filled the hall with a cacophony of greetings and conversations. Daemon Targaryen moved through the crowd with an effortless, serpentine grace, his silver-white hair a beacon of his lineage.

He exchanged curt nods with some, a dangerous, charming smile with others, his attention a restless thing that rarely settled for long. His gaze, dark and piercing, drifted over the faces of his kin, but it did not linger on your own. You were there, a silent presence by his side, his wife. He offered a perfunctory touch to your arm, a brief word, the bare minimum required by courtly decorum. There was no warmth in the gesture, no genuine affection. He mingled with the others, his voice a low, compelling rumble as he spoke of dragon flights and battles, his charm a powerful tool he wielded with easy confidence.

His mind, however, was elsewhere. His eyes would flick toward a young serving girl, or linger on a noblewoman who met his gaze with a knowing smile. He was a prince of fire and blood, and his desires were not so easily contained by the bonds of marriage. The whispers and rumors of his escapades were a constant, low hum in the court, and he did little to dispel them. The thrill of the hunt, the chase of new pleasures, was a fire in his veins that you, his wife, could not extinguish.

He returned to you briefly, his hand coming to rest on the small of your back in a gesture that was more possessive than affectionate. He leaned in, his breath warm on your ear, and murmured a few empty pleasantries. The scent of wine and distant fire clung to him, a stark contrast to the hollow coldness in his eyes. In this hall full of his kin, surrounded by the power and prestige of his name, he was a prince admired and feared, but he was not yours, not truly. He was a man who chose his own pleasures, and you were a part of his life, but not his heart.