Lay

Daemon and I had made our way down the aisle and into the Red Keep section of the garden that was covered, arms looped through one another. Daemon walked slightly slower to avoid dragging me behind him until he finally stopped where we stood in front of one of the windows that looked out to the endless looking water below. He rested his elbows in the windowsill watching me as I tilt my head backwards, feeling all the nauseous from this morning disappearing once it was truly just the two of us.

“Oooohh I swore my heart was going to burst out of my chest with nervousness.”

“You certainly didn’t appear to waver from my standing.”

“Well that’s a relief.”

“Indeed. I don’t need my wife passing out at her own wedding.”

Resting my back against the stone column behind me I lazily crossed my arms over my chest eyeing my husband. A giggle came out of my mouth at the very realization of that now. I was no longer an unwed maiden anymore. “So……now that we are married I’ve been meaning to ask. What does that look like once this whole reception and…..uh concemation has been finished.”

“It can be whatever you want, Lacey.”

“Seven! That’s far too much freedom I might pass out.”

“You haven’t yet.”

Aiming an index finger at him I blurted out unexpectedly, cheeks turning instantly pink once I understood what I’d said. “Did you know I nearly passed out in front of my mother and my handmaids this morning. An embarrassing feat for a princess.”

“If you had fainted, I would have caught you. I always will.”

Sadly lowering my gaze I feel my face get red, twisting my fingers into the fabric of my gown. “What if I’m not certain what that looks like……what I want.”

“Hmm in Old Valyria marriage was about choosing so in our case…” He hums looking at me softly. “I chose you, you choose me. We will figure out the rest as it comes.”

My breath hitched in the back of my throat standing there I lowered my arms walking up to him with my back straight. Tilting my head upward I studied him for the longest time for now he was no longer my betrothed or the stranger I’d held my dagger to his throat at. Before me now was my husband and that brought on more expectations than anything I have ever dealt with. There’s certainly something about him that instantly draws me to him like moffs to a flame and for the longest time I haven’t been able to put my finger on it until now, I want the life that he has.

Not specifically to be a man but to take the chances that he gets to freely take. He represents every aspect of life that I have never known. The way he carries Dark Sister so fiercely, commands the respect of men, minor lords like my father don’t dare challenge him. Yet underneath all that I’m beginning to think there is more to him still than meets the eye. Daemon Targaryen has a softer side and those two pieces of him are stirring the real Lacey that my father has attempted and failed to keep hidden since the day I could walk on my own.

“Must we go to the feast?”

“What else did you have in mind?”

“Show me what it feels like to fly.”

Daemon swiftly moved to stand behind my back, placing his hands on my hips. He made me face the open window with a view of the long stretch of water before us. “A lion wishing to fly, what a marvel.”

“I’m not a lion anymore. I’m a dragon, am I not.”

He nodded instructing in my ear, having his mouth so close it seemed like he had his mouth at my earlobe. “Quite right and dragon riders must know that dragons do not follow commands. They are like you and I, Lacey. They wish for the same thing.”

“That being?”

“You know.”

He slightly lifted his head, standing directly behind me now with his front firmly pressed against my back, hands still on my hips making my face flush a deep red hearing him make some kind of noise of approval it seemed. “Freedom.”

“They do as they please as can we if you start ignoring the insolent thoughts of your father and that cunt Otto Hightower and anyone else in court. For they mean nothing to those who ride dragons.”

“As prince and princess are we not figures of the crown, of your brother and his reign?”

“Only in name. By blood and oaths we are now Dragons and dragons are not commanded by kings and queens.”

Glancing over my shoulder I met his gaze, finding my nose brushed against his with how physically close our bodies were plastered to the other. “But he is your brother. Do you say you do not care for him?”

“I care for him, yes.” Daemon spoke sternly. “But he renounced his dragon moons ago. We must represent our house as it truly stands.”

“Our house?”

“You are my wife.”

“I just didn’t expect your loyalty so soon.”

Daemon opened his mouth to speak but didn’t get the chance when a guard came around the corner bowing to us. “Prince Daemon. Princess Lacey, everyone is gathered in the Great Hall for you.” Daemon sent me a look separating his body from his, breaking the comfortable feeling that we shared and bringing me back to my nervous state.

Music thundered through the seaward hall loud enough that it nearly vibrated through the stone beneath my feet. The great doors swung open, spilling warm torchlight into the garden, and Daemon offered me his arm. I looped mine through his, trying not to let him feel how badly my hand trembled. He slowed his pace just enough for me to keep up, guiding me forward like he’d been doing it his entire life.

The hall erupted the instant we stepped inside with children cheering, Nobles rose from their seats, Jace and Luke bounced in their chairs, whispering to each other with wide eyes. Baela and Rhaena waved both hands at me, joining in when Haleana started doing so while Aemond sat stiffly beside Aegon, posture perfect. Aegon was swirling whatever was in his cup looking so bored.

The sea wind swept through the arches and torches caught the ruby at my throat, scattering red light across my skin. I felt every eye in the room on me, but Daemon’s thumb brushed the inside of my wrist, a small, grounding touch that made my breath steady. We walked down the long ruby‑colored carpet toward the high table. Daemon paused by two empty chairs holding my hand until I sat down in one of them, watching him take his own place beside me in the other chair.

Otto approached our table with that stiff, polite smile he always wore. Daemon’s hand rested on the back of my chair but I still felt my shoulders tense the moment Otto opened his mouth. He began, gesturing his head towards me. “Princess, your ceremony was…unique. The fire and blood ritual was….The Faith prefers clearer symbolism.”

Daemon exhaled sharply through his nose, not quite a scoff but close. While I felt my lips twitch to scowl, an eye roll coming on the more he spoke.

“Of course, I understand the desire to honor your husband’s heritage, but one hopes future ceremonies will be more… traditional.”

Daemon’s fingers tightened on chair armrests and I couldn’t stop myself when I glanced in his direction seeing our eyes rolling at the same time. Daemon’s was slow, deliberate, borderline insulting whereas mine was smaller, quicker, but just as pointed.

Otto blinked, clearly noticing, but pretending he didn’t until Daemon leaned forward slightly, voice low and edged. “If you dislike Valyrian customs, Lord Hand, you were free to stay in Oldtown.”

“Daemon-“ Biting the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing it was far too entertaining to see Otto stiffen and leave with a nod.

“Enjoy the feast.”

Daemon muttered something in High Valyrian under his breath that I didn’t know the exact translation, but I was fairly certain it wasn’t kind. He picked up his cup and I did the same, clinking mine with his as he leaned back. “That man is infuriating.”

“A dragon does not concern himself with the opinions of the sheep.”

Daemon choked on the wine in his mouth, focusing his gaze upon me with an intensity that made my stomach flip. “Where did that bluntness come from, lady wife?”

“My father said it once to my brother. He didn’t know I was listening when they were instructing some of our soldiers. It didn’t really matter to me till I started finding the king's Lord Hand insufferable.”

Daemon tapped his cup with mine, taking another drink with a playful smile. “Here’s to more things in common for the future, Lace.”

Raising my own cup to my lips a chuckle came out with me sitting my cup back on the table. The musician changed their tone playing something much more upbeat than previous, where guests from all over the hall got up from their seats and began to dance in the available center of the room. Resting back in my seat I could see my sister Jeyne make her way quickly over to the table that had Viserys children seated at, specifically stopping in front of young Aemond. She stands up on her tippy toes grinning brightly up at him in his seat.

“Aemond, come dance with me.”

“Dance, my lady.”

“Yes.”

Aemond’s face turned a light pink where he shook his head. “I don’t dance too much. I wouldn’t want to step on your toes.”

“You can't be bad.” She rounded the table taking his hand in hers tugging it. “Come dance with me.”

Aemond stiffened briefly before allowing her to tug him out of his seat. She giggled happily even when he seemed to tighten his grip on her hand. He leads her onto an empty space on the floor, holding both of her hands in his, giving her a tiny smile. The music abruptly picked up the moment they began dancing around the room, playfully jumping and swaying of hair and gowns, joy quickly forming on their faces with every second that passed by. Prince Aemond was certainly still stiff but he seemed to relax when Jeyne began singing out a maiden song which she didn't recall many of the correct words to.

“The boys terrified of her.”

Daemon’s voice pulls me from the scene before me, causing me to turn my attention back onto him. “Were you not that way at that age?”

“How dare you think of some accusation.”

“Your denial gives me my answer.”

Daemon glared at me side eye. “I'm not denying anything. I knew how to woo women at his age.”

“Woo. How exactly do you woo women?”

He stood up slightly from his chair meeting my green eyes, breathing softly. “Let them put a dagger to my throat rather than pin them into the mud.” My cheeks turned a red color with a breath catching tightly in my throat.

“I caught you off guard and you know it, Daemon.”

“I think not.”

Scowling up at him I gripped the armrests of the chair pushing myself up to stand so we were inches from our noses touching one another. Scanning my eyes over his face I felt my heart rate quickening where I took a few steps closer closing the gap almost. Unknowingly my father interrupted whatever was going to occur between us when his voice carried across the room. He abruptly rose from his seat, goblet held to the ceiling. “Aye! I think a bedding is in order for our prince and princess.”

Quickly before my eyes I saw a few men coming towards our table, one rounding the table and touching my arm where my skin crawled with goosebumps. The strange man barely got to tug me forward because of the sound of steel being drawn from multiple directions, it was only when Daemon’s voice drew me from the horrific sight.

“Take your hands off my wife unless you wish to lose a limb.”

Shooting my gaze to his voice Daemon had drawn his sword, the tip to the stranger's throat. The man carefully removed his hand, raising both up in surrender bowing his head. “Forgive me, my prince.”

“Prince Daemon, the bedding ceremony is tradition. It must be done to insure it was consumated.” My father rounded his table crossing the room while I moved around some of the other guests. Until my father grasped my arm harshly making me wince as he glared down at me with just annoyance. “You will do your duty, you understand me. Don’t embarrass our house more than you already have.”

“Father…..ow…..please let go.”

“You will allow this tradition to happen without haste.”

“Let me go. I wasn’t….”

My father went to respond again until Daemon aimed his sword at my father, he removed my father’s grip from my forearm. “If you lay a hand on her again I will make sure you definitely lose said limb.” The entire room fell into dead silence at that threat with King Viserys carefully rising from his seat to say something.

“Daemon, you and Lacey may -“

“We will be taking our leave now. No man shall touch my wife, but me. Unless he wishes to become Caraxes next meal!” My husband declared cutting his brother off, coming around to the front of the table where we stood. With his freehand he carefully took my hand on his, holding up his sword still as we walked hand in hand out of the room and into the empty hallway.

The stuffy warm feeling coming from that room was drastically different from the hallway he took me into. A shiver ran down my spine with the brush of cold air that surrounded us. It's nightfall and the only light is being provided by the burning torches on the walls. Our heavy boots made loud sounds against the cobblestone floor while Daemon guilds through the halls without any issues, simply taking me along with hom until we reached a specific chamber door.

He pushed it open, removing his hand from mine, sliding his sword back inside its holder. Sparing him a glance over my shoulder he gave me a simple head nod, letting me walk inside first to find it to be none other than his personal bedchambers. His chambers were dim, lit only by a few candles and the glow of the hearth. I stood just inside the doorway, letting my eyes adjust. Daemon didn’t speak but I could feel him behind me, watching me scan my gaze over the room. The room was… simpler than I expected.

The walls were warm red stone, polished smooth in some places, rough in others. A large tapestry hung near the bed : a dragon in flight, its wings stretched wide but nothing else was decorative. The bed itself was large, carved dark wood with deep red blankets and a heavy fur thrown across the foot. I stepped farther in, my fingers brushing the cool stone of the doorway. The air smelled faintly of smoke from the hearth, and oiled leather, maybe, from the armor resting on a stand near the wall.

Weapons lined one side of the chamber, arranged neatly beginning with a curved blade from Essos. Next a shield with a dragon motif. Then a dagger that caught the candlelight in a way that made me think it wasn’t ordinary steel. There were more books than I expected. They’re stacked on a table, on a chair, even beside the bed. Targaryen histories was my best guess. Picking up one of the books I eyed the words : Targaryen Family Tree.

“This is where you stay?” I asked quietly, looking over my left shoulder back at him.

He hummed in response with a tiny head nod with me walking towards the window. Placing my hands on the windowsill I lean up on my toes to get a better view. It was overlooking the dark courtyard below. The torches outside flickered against the stone, casting long shadows that swayed with the wind. I would expect a view overlooking the water similar to Casterly Rock.

“It’s not what I imagined.”

“What did you imagine?” His voice was low, almost amused.

“Something grander.”

He snorted softly. “I don’t need grand.”

Turning around to face him I simply looked at him for a few minutes. He stared at me and I wasn’t sure what to do, reluctant as my eyes drifted to the bed. My face flushed a deep red like a tomato recalling what was expected of me and my husband on this very night. Taking in an uneven breath fists clenched at my sides I began moving my hands behind my back in an attempt to start untying the corset strings. Loosening the strings carefully I could tell my breathing was becoming more of a pint rather than calm until Daemon’s tone cut through the darkness.

“That won’t be necessary.”

One of my hands froze, fear flashing across my face. “Excuse me?”

“You shall take the bed for tonight.”

“And what of you?”

Daemon crosses the space between us in the room, gesturing for me to turn with his finger and I do so without question. His hands took place where mine had been starting to untie the corset strings. “I will allow you to sleep in the bed on your own. I’ll take the chair and watch over you.”

“But - why - why would you do that when we are to consummate tonight?”

He lowered his gaze downward to meet mine, cupping my face in his hands and resting his forehead on mine declaring in a whisper. “To show I’m not like your father.”

“Daemon…”

My voice came out in a shutter as he withdrew walking over to the table pouring himself a drink and kept his back to me so I could change. “Get some sleep, Lacey. Our lives will be quite busy soon enough.” Bringing my fingers up to the jewel around my neck I was beginning to see that my father may have chosen wrong and given me a good husband unlike he originally thought.

Daemon Targaryen’s wedding day was the biggest talk of the Seven Kingdoms during those two passing days.

Maidens across the realm mourned the loss of their rouge prince, disappointed he would no longer be theirs to dream about despite his two past marriages and having two daughters from his second wife.

And now here I was about to be the third wife. Become a princess and have the Targaryen name.

“Here’s some water, my lady.”

Ellyn’s voice spoke to me holding a cup of water she’d poured for me upon the fact that I was currently bent over the latren puking the minute the sun had risen through the curtains in my chamber of the Red Keep. My hair was pulled back in a ponytail, hands gripped the sides of the bucket until I lifted my head coughing once I was able to take a breather.

“Did something not sit well with you last night?”

“I don’t believe so….thank you.”

Taking the cup from her hand I slowly drank the cold liquid hoping it would help with the sickening feeling. Shutting my eyes I blew out some air feeling a tightness inside my chest that grew the second we heard someone knocking at the door.

“Lacey! We must begin getting you ready.”

Cerelle’s voice entered the quiet room seconds later with our mother, two other handmaids and someone I assumed must have been sent by Queen Alicent to oversee everything. Ellyn offered me her hand helping me to stand upright, still seeing the ill look across my face. The other two handmaids stepped forward upon my sister’s command. “We must start with her hair. She can’t have it be a mess when she marries Prince Daemon.”

“How shall it be done, my lady?”

“In a crown with the rest flowing behind.”

I corrected my sister sharply. “Not in a crown.”

“Why not?”

“That’s not what Daemon likes.”

Cerelle’s brows knitted at my comment. “What Daemon likes. Don’t you mean Prince Daemon. And regardless it would look much more fitting for your hair to be styled as a crown given your to become a princess after today.”

“That may be so but it’s not what I - what we want.” Sitting down in the chair in front of the vanity mirror I faced the woman standing behind me. “I want my hair to be done like those Old Valyrian. Ellyn knows how it should be done.”

Ellyn smiled down at me, hands together in front of her. “I can do that, Lady Lacey.”

“Lacey, the first thing we need to do is fit you into the wedding gown. That represents not only you but our whole house and reputation.” My mother declared nodding to the two ladies who hurried across the room flinging open the closet revealing the very expensive dress. Eyeing the gown was a deep red with gold patterns scattered across and delicate lace short sleeves. There was a low v neck line in the center and I saw my dark combat boots sitting beside it.

Standing up Ellyn gestured for me to lift my arms above my head, sliding my nightgown over my head leaving me bare until one of the other servants came over with a plain white shift that she placed over my head. The fabric in question didn’t really provide much privacy if the light hit it the right way. Next came the red gown itself that took all three women to get it on because of how heavy and thick it was.

Brushing my hands down the fabric it was softer than I was expecting it to be, but it certainly still showed how much money my family had because there were actual traces of gold throughout it. Ellyn moved behind me typing the laces of the corset gown so it tightened on my stomach where I sucked in a breath finding it delicate to breathe.

“Now she needs jewelry. The more golden the better.” Cerelle cheered scampering across the room scooping up a handful of various necklaces in her hands rushing back over to where I stand.

Shifting my gaze over to Alicent’s handmaiden I bite my lip seeing her blankly watching me. I didn’t feel comfortable as is so she’s certainly not helping. Why couldn’t this wedding just be simple where Daemon and I declared vows to each other without an entire realm in attendance.

“Which one would you prefer, my lady?” A handmaiden held up a simple golden necklace with a red Ruby hanging on the end.

Cerelle barely gave me time to respond. “The one with the most red rubies.”

She dropped three heavy necklaces onto the table, each one more ornate than the last. Rubies the size of grapes, thick enough to choke me. She lifted one, nearly hitting Ellyn with the swinging chain.

Ellyn steadied the table with a quiet hand, her voice soft. “Perhaps something lighter, my lady. You’ve been feeling unwell…”

“She’ll look magnificent. The realm expects magnificence.”

Alicent’s handmaiden stepped forward, her tone cool and measured. “The Queen would prefer something modest. A single ruby, perhaps.”

Cerelle’s jaw tightened. “Modest? This is a royal wedding.”

“Choose whichever you like, Lacey.” My mother finally spoke from her position by the window with a distant smile.

Raising one hand upward I wrapped my fingers around the simplest one I could find. The golden chain appears delicate with a tiny red Ruby lion claw connected to it at the bottom. Picking it up I wrapped my hands around the back of my neck clasping it on, moving my gaze forward seeing all eyes on me which brought a nausea feeling rising up quickly. My feet stumbled backwards with little time for me to catch myself, luckily Ellyn moved instantly, her hands gripping my arms, steadying me before anyone else even noticed.

“Lacey ”

“I’m fine,” I whispered, though my vision blurred at the edges.

Cerelle gasped. “She’s pale.”

Alicent’s handmaiden stepped closer, eyes narrowing. “Is she ill?”

“Sit. Sit down.” Ellyn guided me to sit on the edge of the bed, her hand firm on my back. “Breathe. Slow breaths.”

My eyes shut tightly feeling my head spinning over the nausea returning again. My fingers dug into the sheets of the mattress and I took deep breaths in and out as she instructed, praying I didn't pass out during the vows or vomit on Daemon himself.

“We are losing daylight.” The Queen's handmaiden utters out.

Ellyn shot her a sharp look, the closest thing to defiance I’d ever seen from her. “She needs a moment.”

“A dragon….does not waver.” Muttering to myself underneath my breath I swallowed thickly, forcing the desire to vomit down as the dizziness disappeared. Fluttering my eyes open I met Ellyn’s gaze only speaking to her. “I'm ready now.”

Ellyn worked as if none of them existed gathering the top section of my blonde hair, fingers weaving through the strands with practiced familiarity. She didn’t reach for ribbons or pins but simply let her hands move, shaping the style she knew Daemon favored. She separated the hair into three thick sections, twisting them into a loose, elegant braid that sat high at the back of my head. A braid meant for a woman who would stand beside a dragonrider.

The rest of my hair fell in long, soft waves down my back, catching the light. She slid a single black pin carved like a dragon scale into the center of the braid, anchoring it. My hair was in waves beneath the braid flowed freely, brushing the tops of my shoulders and cascading down my back like a waterfall.

Ellyn stepped back, breathing softly as she whispered in my ear. “There, just as he and you like it. Now you are ready.”

Every step I took echoed down the long stone corridor, the sound swallowed by the vaulted ceilings and the tapestries lining the walls. Ellyn walked just behind me, her hands fussing with the fall of my veil. Two ladies‑in‑waiting carried the train of my gown. The septa murmured prayers under her breath. My mother’s heels clicked sharply against the floor, each tap a reminder to keep my posture straight. The air smelled faintly of incense and salt, the sea drifting in through the open windows as we descended the seaward stairwell.

The cliffside gardens opened before me in sweeping terraces carved into the rock, each layer draped in greenery and edged with pale marble. The sea glittered below, waves crashing against the cliffs in rhythmic bursts of white foam. A long carpet of deep red stretched toward a narrow marble platform at the cliff’s edge. Braziers burned with dragon‑flame incense, their smoke curling upward in thin silver ribbons.A stone bowl filled with fire flickered beside the platform as a symbol of Valyria’s sea and flame.

The court stood in a crescent, leaving the center open. Viserys sat at the front, Alicent and her children behind him with Rhaenyra opposite them, her sons watching quietly. But I barely saw any of them clearly seeing who was intensely staring at me down the aisle, never looking at anyone else around him. Almost as if we were the only two people here at this moment and that person was Daemon.

My mouth parted and my heart began beating faster the closer I got to him and the whole time he never took his violet eyes off of me. Ellyn and I finally stopped directly in front of the prince with my father Jason step up bowing to the dragon. “My prince, I present to you my daughter Lacey of House Lannister to take to wife. Will you receive her?”

“I will take her, Lord Lannister.”

Daemon extended a hand out to me and I grasped his larger hand in my smaller one feeling a genuine smile spread across my face when my father stepped away which left just me and the man who would be my husband soon. We stood in the available center of the space with a Septon that handed Daemon a silver dagger without uttering a single word. He twirled the dagger handle in his left hand, lowering his gaze down to meet mine, whispering in high Valyrian tongue to me and I was relieved that I was beginning to understand it better.

“Kesīr issa justnor ao se nyke. Daor onos ēlson mattērar. (This is just you and I. No one else matters.)”

“itson justnor ao se nyke. ( It’s just you and me. )”

Daemon turns his wrist gently sliding the blade across his open palm, drawing a line of blood before he hands me the knife. Blowing out a breath of air I set the sharp on my palm, slicing it carefully across it drawing fresh blood. Holding my bleeding palm up Daemon carefully intertwined his own cut hand with mine, taking a cup from the Septon where drops of our blood went into it.

“Hen lantoti ānogar va sȳndroti vāedroma. Mēro perzot gīhoti elēdroma iārza sīr. Izulī ampā perzī. Prūmī lanti sēteksi. Hen jenȳ māzīlarion. Qēlossa ozūndesi. Sȳndroro ōñō jēdo rȳ kīvia mazvestraksi. ( Blood of two Joined as one. Ghostly flame and song of shadows. Two hearts as embers forged in fourteen fires. A future promised in glass. The stars stand witness. The vow spoken through time of darkness and light.)”

Once the Septon had finished the ceremonial vow he needed to deliver looking between the two of us giving Daemon and I each a head nod. Clearing my throat I watched Daemon dip his thumb into the bloody cup, raising his finger and drawing a half triangle in the center of my forehead. “Isse se memory hen uēpa Valyria mazeman ao lacey Lānistor naejot sagon ñuha ābrazȳrys. Nyke vow naejot mīsagon ao hen ōdrikagon, cherish ao se iōragon paktot ao hae aōha gīda ēva se mōris hen ñuha tubissa. ( In the memory of Old Valyria I take you Lacey Lannister to be my wife. I vow to protect you from harm, cherish you and stand beside you as your equal until the end of my days.)”

“Nyke mazemagon ao Daemon Targaryen sagon ñuha husbantys. nyke voves sagon dutivuza vivos. nyke voves iderēbagon ao, daor rūklor dutynor demandon ūja yn hopēvion rūklor ñuha prūmia dēsiror. ( I take you Daemon Targaryen to be my husband. I vow to be a dutiful wife to you. I vow to choose you, not because duty demands it but hopefully because my heart desires.)” Dipping my own thumb into our mixed blood I followed his previous actions drawing a half triangle on his forehead.

The Septon came forward, taking the cup from my other hand declaring to us. “In the vows of Old Valyria you may kiss your bride, my prince.”

My cheeks turned a light pink moving my gaze up to find Daemon deeply staring down at me. He gently lifted my chin up with one hand leaning down and connecting our lips together. I stiffened briefly before a calm feeling came over me where I grasped his tunic in my fingertips tugging him closer where our chests pressed against each other. The dragon prince deepened the kiss, smiling as his other hand ran over my loose hair, fingers toying with the Valyrian braid. Pressing my mouth tighter against his lips I trailed my hands up and around his neck wishing to never stop kissing him but sadly we needed air so we broke the kiss. Our bodies stuck up against one another, panting as we did the best we could to catch our breath.

“You are mine.”

“And you’re mine.”

Daemon smirks down at me proudly and I mirrored his reaction hearing him whisper. “Sīr ziry rhaenagon, Lacey Targārien ( So it begins, Lacey Targaryen).”

A fortnight had passed sadly the rumors of my virtue were not gone.

The whispers of Otto Hightower spread through the Red Keep like massive wildfire. It started coming from some servants that were nearby the day I punched my father square in the nose. Next it switched to coming from some of the members of the Kingsguard. Court ladies have made everyone spread the gossip now, I'm utterly surprised it has not reached King Viserys ears yet at this point.

“Vezof prūmia - um - Vezof ānogro syt ao.”

The fabric of my red gown trailed behind me as I heavily paced back and forth in my chambers. Carrying a messy book in one hand I read over my scribbled handwriting of the Valyrian wedding vows, struggling to pronounce them.

“Vezof prūmia syt ao,”

I whispered, slower this time even with my tongue still tripping over the sharp consonants and soft vowels.

“Vezof ānogro syt ao.”

Spinning on the heels of my boots I growled underneath my breath feeling a voice in the back of my mind : you need to do better to not embarrass Daemon. Staring down at the sentences on the pages that should have felt beautiful and sacred felt sickening. They sickened me with how heavy they were with the weight of everything swirling around me : the gossip, the judgment, the fear that I would embarrass myself in front of Daemon, in front of the entire court, in front of the gods themselves.

I stopped pacing only long enough to press the heel of my palm to my forehead. It felt like I might throw up or something any second over the stress. If anyone discovered that part of the rumors were true that I drank with Daemon on the Street of Slik and his Gold Cloaks then my family’s reputation was ruined. Leaning against the table by the closed chamber door I shut my eyes recalling some whispers from people around court over the last two weeks.

“Some say the girl is not a maiden anymore. If the King finds out he will likely exile her.”

“Poor girl. She’ll be blamed even for doing nothing.”

“A marriage born of scandal is no marriage at all.”

Maybe they were right that I was a mess.

Maybe I was recklessly foolish to think my actions at the tavern were acceptable with a prince.

Maybe Daemon deserved someone steadier, someone who didn’t crumble under whispers.

What if I embarrassed my house?

What if the vows sounded ridiculous coming from my mouth?

“Syt ñuha valonqar…”I swallowed hard, struggling to not listen to whatever voice in my head would come next. “Ñuha prūmia… ñuha ānogro.”

Why couldn’t I do this?

Why couldn’t I silence Otto’s rumors in my head long enough to breathe?

“Vezof prūmia - prūmia - prūmia - Seven hells!”

Clutching the book to my chest quickly launching it across the room at the same time as the chamber door cracked open. Daemon had barely put one foot inside before he abruptly ducked, avoiding the flying book that was going straight for his head. “Lacey - what in god's name!”

“Daemon…..”

The color drains from my features seeing him standing in the doorway with a baffled expression on his face. He bent down securing the flung book in hand, coming fully into the room now sitting it down on the table. “I don’t remember throwing books to be part of a morning fast. Care to explain it plainly.”

“Not particularly, no.”

“Try anyway.”

Dropping my shoulders heavily I lowered my gaze to my boots. Moving my hands over the fabric of my red lace covered dress, twisting some of the fabric in my fingers. “I’ve embarrassed your name, Prince Daemon. My actions of the prior weeks have not been becoming a lady wife, let alone a princess.”

“Lacey.”

“I’ve embarrassed you, Daemon! Everyone is talking about me - about us and I’ve made it worse. Punching my father while rumors spread about will only make things worse. And even now when I have been studying and failing to learn these Valyrian vows my ridiculous tongue gets tied.” Raising my hands up to my loose blonde hair I tightly grip it, screaming up towards the ceiling. My eyes begin watering but I don’t dare cry in front of him, he didn’t need to see such a thing. “You’re brother should’ve picked someone who doesn’t let whispers plague her mind. For they are right about me, I’m ridiculously unladylike….im supposed to….I’m supposed to be golden and perfect yet instead I’m this….mess.”

“Do not say that. Don’t ever say that again. You are not a mess.”

My voice cracks as I drop my hands flailing them about the room, hair and gown moving with me. “How am I not! Since I was a child I have always spoken my mind too openly, I enjoy the liveliness of taverns and the company of your men, hell how many court ladies carry a dagger. All of these things are unbefitting a princess.”

“I never expected you to become a princess in two moons, Lacey. Your house is not the one marrying me, you are.”

“I’d rather be knighted by you than declare sweet vows to a room full of strangers.”

I blurted out slapping my hands over my mouth in horror. My year filled eyes met his gaze that stared longingly at me. He crossed the room in two slow strides closing the gap between us, cradling my face in his hands and resting his forehead on mine.

“Then we’ll make the vows our own, not theirs.”

Sucking in a breath I let a tear or two slip out. “Skoros gaomagon ilva.” ( Tell me what comes next )

“Ilva jeda jorraelagon. Ao hen nyke.” ( We face the day. You with me )

Opening the chambers door I let Daemon take a step out first turning my head hearing young voices getting closer to us, small footsteps heard hitting the stone floor before I ever saw my sister Jeyne carrying a book over her head giggling. Her short blonde hair flowing behind her with her tiny legs sliding out from under her when she bumps into Daemon’s leg. Daemon questioned the girl below him with a curious tone. “What do you have here, little lioness?”

“Jeyne! Why are you running with a book?”

“Aemond won’t play hide and seek cause he’s reading.”

As if on cue Aemond caught up with the three of us where he greeted simply. “Uncle Daemon. Aunt Lacey.”

“I’m not technically your aunt yet, young prince.”

He responded back. “You will be soon enough.”

“I suppose you are right. Now back to you, why were you running with Aemond’s book?”

Jeyne stuck her tongue out towards the boy at her side. “This one had his nose stuck in the book. I told him I wanted to play hide and seek but he didn’t stop so I took it. Because reading is boringgg.”

“It is not.”

“It is.”

“Isn’t.”

“Is too!”

A laugh comes from my mouth as I put a hand over to conceal glancing over to my future husband. “Remind you of anyone?”

“Indeed, Lace.” Daemon moves forward lowering himself on one knee to be leveled with my sister. He picks up the book she'd dropped reading the cover : The Chronicle of the Conquest. “Tell me Jeyne was it, have you ever heard of Visenya and Rhaenys Targaryen?”

“No.”

“No! Well you are in for a treat.” He opened the book to a section changing his tone to one with more excitement yet gentler for her ears. He briefly moved his freehand tapping the top of his sword handle on his hip. “Visenya, was the fiercest woman who ever lived. She wore armor instead of gowns. She carried the sword Dark Sister that I carry now and swung it better than most men. She rode the dragon Vhagar.”

Aemond straightened proudly at that. “The largest and meanest dragon in the world.”

“Visenya didn’t smile much. She didn’t sing or dance. But she protected her family with a loyalty sharper than her blade.” Daemon flipped to another page in the book. “Rhaenys, was her opposite. Rhaenys loved music, stories and flying just for the joy of it. She rode Meraxes, swift and bright. She laughed easily and made friends wherever she went.”

Jeyne’s face lit up with curiosity. “She sounds nice.”

“She was. But don’t mistake kindness for weakness. Rhaenys helped conquer kingdoms with charm alone. She could talk a lord into surrendering before Visenya ever drew her sword.”

Staring down at the man before me my heart skipped a beat at how unexpectedly sweet he was being to my sister. He’d shown me some gentleness but I had never expected him to do the same thing for little Jeyne. Footsteps were heard coming close to us down the hallway where I looked over my shoulder seeing a member of the Kingsguard that bowed his head at the four of us, looking directly at Daemon and I specifically. “My prince. My lady. The king requests an audience with you both.”

“Now?”

He nodded at me. “Yes, my lady.”

“It appears we must end story time, little lioness.”

Jeyne whined and even Aemond glared at his uncle watching him close the book, handing it back to the young prince rising from the floor. “But I want to hear more stories.”

“Perhaps we can entertain this more later.”

My sister gave a pout before Aemond muttered to her, making her light up at his idea. “Perhaps a dragon hide and seek.”

“YES! I want to be Meraxes!”

Aemond lifted his chin, trying to look unimpressed. “Meraxes was too large to hide properly.”

“I’m Meraxes!” Before the Kingsguard could clear his throat again, Jeyne darted down the hallway, her laughter echoing off the stone. “You’ll never catch me!”

Aemond sighed but was already scanning the corridor with sharp, calculating eyes. “She always hides behind curtains first.”

“Then go,” Daemon urged, amused. “A dragonrider should know how to track his beast.”

Aemond took off after her, boots thudding against the floor, muttering Valyrian under his breath as if reciting battle strategy. Jeyne shrieked when he rounded the corner and moved a curtain she was standing behind. “NO FAIR! You’re too fast!”

“You breathe too loudly.”

“I’m hiding again! You have to count!”

Aemond pressed his back to the wall, covering his face with one hand. “One… two… three…”

Daemon smirked. “Try not to burn the Keep down while we’re gone.”

“Meraxes never burned anything she didn’t mean to.”

Aemond corrected her. “That is historically inaccurate.”

“You’re historically inaccurate.” Jeyne shoved him playfully.

Daemon and I made our way to Viserys' chambers being greeted with a tired , not angry man. He stood by the window with his hands behind his back speaking first. “Daemon. Lacey. I have heard whispers of you two.”

“From that cunt Otto Hightower.” Daemon’s voice was steady.

Viserys’s nostrils flared, stepping closer. “From every corner of the Keep. They say you drank on the Street of Silk. That you were seen with the Gold Cloaks. That your virtue is being questioned.”

“You’re Grace, I -“

“Lady Lacey, look at me.” Heat rose to my cheeks with the dropping of my chin in embarrassment till he softly spoke and I forced my eyes to meet his. “You are not at fault. I know how the court works. Rumors cling to innocence far more easily than guilt.”

Daemon scoffed. “Then silence him.”

“I will not start a war in my own court because you cannot keep yourself out of trouble. This marriage was meant to be a celebration, instead it’s becoming gossip.”

Viserys’s gaze snapped to his brother then switched over to me.

“Lacey, I will not have you dragged through the mud or have your name tarnished. Therefore, the wedding will be moved forward.”

Daemon raised a brow. “Forward?”

“Rather than in another fortnight we move the wedding to be done in two days. This shall end Otto’s whispers swiftly.”

“Your Grace… I’m truly sorry-”

Viserys raised a hand gently. “You have done nothing wrong. The court does not care about the truth, they only care about spectacle. And I will not let you become one.”

“It will be done, brother.” Daemon’s hand somehow found mine, gently intertwining our fingers together before he led me out of the chambers. Breathing slowly I mentally began preparing myself for what was to come, in two days I would officially become Lacey Targaryen.