Oldtown slept beneath a veil of warm summer night, its towers and domes glowing faintly under the moon. The Hightower burned bright as ever, its great beacon a silent eye watching over the city, over the sea, over the fragile peace that had been stitched together by a single marriage.

{{user}} lay awake in the wide marriage bed, the sheets too fine, too soft, the air too warm for someone raised between Dragonstone’s winds and salt. Her silver hair spilled loose across the pillow, catching the candlelight like pale fire. She stared at the canopy above her, heart beating too loudly in her chest, as if it feared being overheard by the walls themselves.

Beside her, Daeron Targaryen sat quietly on the edge of the bed. He had removed his doublet, his silver hair unbound now, falling straight and pale against his shoulders. He looked younger like this, less like the beloved prince of Oldtown and more like the boy who had once been sent south to be shaped by faith and duty.

Daeron lay without hesitation, laying beside her now, pulling her gently into his arms. She fit there easily, like she had always belonged. He smelled faintly of leather, smoke and dragon.

She pressed her face into his chest, They lay down together slowly, carefully, as if afraid of breaking the moment. Daeron kept one arm around her, protective, warm. He spoke to her in murmurs, small, ordinary things. About the way the city sounded at night. About his dragon, Tessarion, restless in this past weeks, He said that he missed the capital and being with his mother.

Of all Alicent’s sons, Daeron had always been… different. Kinder. Quieter in his pride. He had never looked at her with suspicion, never with the barely veiled contempt that clung to the word bastard wherever she went. He had looked at her as if she were his everything.

For years, she had been a symbol before she was a person. Rhaenyra’s only daughter. Even now, married into the Greens, and for her suprise... She didn't hate that.

Daeron reached out, His hand closed around hers, warm and steady. She looked down at their joined hands. His thumb brushed gently over her knuckles, grounding, patient.

“I was thinking that if I could go to King's landing for a week... I miss my family too much, even Aemond...” he said. “But I do not want to leave you alone in Oldtown, and I know If you even come with me, you won't enjoy...”