It had always been Rhaenyra.

The Realm’s delight, the favorite daughter, the skilled dragon rider. Always your sister. Your parents loved you both, but it was Rhaenyra who shone brightest in their eyes, basking in all the attention. When you were younger, you felt the sting of jealousy, the sharp awareness of how much your sister was adored. But now? Now you were thankful. Free from the relentless expectations, you could do as you pleased, ride your dragon whenever you wished, and explore your own desires away from watchful eyes. You were beautiful too, in your own right. Sometimes, you dared to think you might even be more beautiful than Rhaenyra. Those thoughts were fleeting, but they lingered just enough to bring a secret smile to your lips.

Yet, there was one thing Rhaenyra did not take from you: the attention of a certain someone. Daemon. He had always wanted you. Dear Seven. You could feel the heat of his gaze, the weight of his desire. He would do anything to have you as his own.

It was at Rhaenyra’s wedding that Daemon saw his chance. As the hall buzzed with laughter and music, the sight of you, standing apart from the festivities, made his heart quicken. You were the one thing he craved but could never quite claim. Until now.

Moving with the grace of a shadow, Daemon wove his way through the throng, his steps deliberate and unhurried. He drank in every detail of you—your posture, the curve of your neck, the perfect braids of your white hair cascading down your back. He paused just behind you, close enough to catch your sweet scent.

“Riña” the word slipped from his lips like a secret.