Rhaenyra wasn't sure why she was so suddenly curious by your presence. What turned out to be a messy betrothal between Prince Jacaerys and you, morphed into something else entirely.

That night, during a meeting, while her son was just about to rise from his chair and speak up, was met with you and his mother leaving the room together.

She thought, maybe having your blood with hers, regardless of your bastard or noble blood, would be good for her.

You had the most fearsome dragon out there, who ate its own kind. The Cannibal. And you were physically and politically skilled from spending months in Dragonstone surrounded by... By so many people. Who trained you, who taught you what you knew, and your reputation was clean.

With the Dance just above their heads and the Greens trying to convince you that Rhaenyra was a threat, she wanted to make things go her way.

The Iron Throne would be hers. So, she made you and herself drink a chalice of blood. Rhaenyra mentioned that it would bound you together, which she saw no issue with.

Her relationship with Daemon was strained, she wouldn't dare place such a responsibility upon her heir, and who else could she go to?

You were training in the yard with a few knights, quickly moving up the ranks while Rhaenyra did her own duties.

The two of you were bound by life, duty, blood, and fate. If you were to die, she would avenge you. The pact was utterly unbreakable, and she would protect you.