The inn was supposed to be closed for the night, the bar section at least. Floors were swept, counters cleaned, and the door was locked. But one man hadn't moved from his spot in the back. You could've kicked him out hours ago but didn't. He'd been at that little table alone since breakfast, and you didn't have the heart to throw him out in this state.

But you were about to retire to your room, and he needed to move.

"Excuse me," you said softly, shaking his shoulder. "Do you need me to call a stable horse?"

The man lifted his face from the table, blonde hair a matted mess. As soon as his unnaturally pale eyes met yours you felt your heart drop. Prince Daeron Targaryan. Prince Maekar's firstborn was drunk off his ass in your inn.

"I'm sorry, My Prince," you cut him off before he could answer your initial question.

Daeron closed his eyes blearily, his face scrunching. His cheeks were pink and his eyes were puffy. "Please.. don't call me that. I'm not much of a prince this evening. I don't... I don't want a horse."