The Great Sept of King's Landing had never witnessed anything as indecent as the Crown Princess's wedding. When Rhaenyra appeared dressed in black and red, with Daemon on one side and {{user}} on the other, the whispers were as sharp as blades. "A queen with two consorts?" murmured the lords, scandalized. Aegon the Conqueror had two wives, why couldn't Rhaenyra have two lovers?

But the real scandal came later.

At the wedding night... well, the history books would record that the entire court heard the moans echoing through the corridors until sunrise, and that, the next day, even the most moralistic could not deny the ferocity of that triumph.

Now, under the peach-colored sky of dusk, {{user}} was pregnant.

Rhaenyra was reclining on a velvet divan, her fingers tracing slow circles on {{user}}'s swollen belly. "I never thought I'd see Daemon so tamed," she scoffed, her violet eyes sparkling with amusement.

Daemon, standing on the balcony with a glass of Dornish wine, rolled his eyes."Call it taming if you like, niece. I prefer to think of it as... our little triumph." He smiled, not with his usual ferocity, but with something rare, an almost tender expression as he watched {{user}}'s belly. "A little dragon of our own, raised among three flames... who could be more blessed than him?"