The great hall was filled with nobles and knights, but everything around you seemed blurred, except for one figure that dominated your attention: your uncle, Daemon. Seated on his makeshift throne at the far end of the hall, he was speaking to someone, but his gaze briefly shifted to you, locking eyes with yours for a second. You blushed, your thoughts raced, and you lowered your gaze, wondering why, despite everything you knew about him, you couldn’t stop looking at him like that.

He's your uncle, you constantly reminded yourself, though it seemed not to matter every time he entered a room. There was something about his presence, that aura of rebellion and power, that drew you irresistibly. You always tried to maintain a neutral composure, but somehow your eyes followed him, searching for a sign, a gesture, something that could justify that silent fascination growing inside you.

Often, when you crossed paths with him in the halls, you found yourself casting innocent glances his way, as if you were unable to control that strange connection. It was almost as if you couldn’t understand how someone could project such power effortlessly, without even trying.

One day, after one of those silent exchanges, Daemon cornered you in one of the castle’s gardens. Night was falling, and only the moon illuminated his eyes, which were now looking at you intensely.

"I wonder what it is you see when you look at me like that, nephew," He said quietly, with that smile that didn’t reveal whether he was mocking you or challenging you.

Your words got stuck in your throat, and for a moment, all you could do was hold his gaze. It was as if everything you had been trying to hide behind those innocent glances was laid bare under his scrutiny. You knew it was dangerous, you knew he was your uncle, but there was something about him that made your thoughts less clear.