Before he was the Rogue Prince, there was a time when he met her—when all was different. The realm remembers him as a warrior, a prince of fire and fury. Yet few would believe that Daemon was once in love.

She was fair of face and kind of heart. There was a light to her, the sort not easily found amidst the shadows of court. And something in her—perhaps the quiet strength, perhaps the way she saw past the dragon’s fire—drew him in. He had sworn, in the silence of his heart, that he would have her.

But he did not.

His grandmother, Queen Alysanne, had already made the match. Lady Rhea Royce of Runestone. A political tie. A duty. He was sent away in chains of expectation, raging against it all. And yet… even as he rode to the Vale, thoughts of her lingered. For there was none like her.

Years passed. Whispers came and went. Rhea Royce died—some say by mischance, others dare speak darker things. None could prove what truly happened in the Vale. But one thing was clear.

Daemon was free.

And now, with fire in his blood and steel at his side, he turned his eyes back to her. The one he could not have then. The one he would claim now.