Chapter Text

Chapter 1 – Sweet Nothing.

I spent long hours in the library, the only place within the vast fortress where I could find refuge—a place away from the watchful eyes, from the rejection of my elder brothers, from the coldness of my mother. A refuge from the noise of all those words, from the poison they harbored, from the contradictions. Mother and Grandfather warned me of the dangers of lingering around my half-sister’s children. “The day Rhaenyra ascends the throne, your head will end up on a spike just like the rest of your brothers,” they urged me to distrust, to repudiate, to hate them, for in their words, they posed a threat. But Father wanted the opposite; he wanted me to build bridges. “You are the wisest of your brothers, Daeron. Use that wisdom with cleverness and kindness. Never let them cloud your good heart.”

My heart…

I placed a hand on my chest as I thought of Father’s words, uncertain of how true they were. When I sought my heart for guidance, the outcome was never what I desired. Everything became confusing, tormenting, and anguishing, yet at the same time, it turned warm and pleasant when my thoughts, as always, ended up on him. I wasn’t naive; I knew that over the years, I had developed a certain curiosity about Jace. The aversion I felt when we were children, due to his wild and boisterous behavior, had slowly faded. On more than one occasion, I noticed the unnecessary attention I was giving him. The first times were during our lessons; my eyes would drift away from Orwyle and settle on him, observing how his features had changed, how his hair had grown and now gracefully fell to his shoulders. How he had slowly transformed from a wild child into a handsome young man, a worthy heir to the throne. Later, that curiosity grew during our training sessions; my eyes, rather than focusing on the opposing sword, ended up on the opposing body, on the way he moved, how his muscles tensed, the sweat that trickled down his skin. All of this stirred certain desires in me that I was unable to control. And before I knew it, Jace was no longer just a presence in my daily life, but also in my dreams, where everything became wilder. The settings would change, but it was always him and me, his hands always around my body, his lips against mine, claiming me as his prize.  

Since I couldn’t control my mind and feverish imagination, I decided to distance myself. I could no longer share the same lessons with him, be around him, and risk being discovered. I chose to continue my studies in private. It wasn’t something that would raise suspicions, given the enmity between our families and the fact that we barely spoke to each other, except when my brothers clashed with them. It all seemed natural in the eyes of others. For me, it was a way to protect my heart, to treasure those feelings for myself alone.

A one-sided romance. A fantasy. But it was mine and mine alone. Something that finally belonged to me.

One of the servants came to fetch me, for the feast my father was hosting was approaching. Eager to celebrate the turn of the new year after the conquest, he had organized a splendid banquet, to which many of the most important houses would attend. All were eager to witness how the two branches of the family would tear each other apart. Without objection, I was guided to my chambers, where I was prepared for the occasion. Wrapped in those uncomfortable green garments, I gazed at my reflection in the water of the basin—handsome, elegant, everything expected of a Targaryen prince. Yet, I could barely recognize myself. Sometimes I doubted who I really was. Was I truly Daeron, or just another puppet, a product of the meticulously orchestrated narrative?

In the grand throne room, I took a seat near my father, yet distant enough. Despite being family, the seats closest to the king were reserved for the queen and those next in line to the throne. Gradually, the hall began to fill, the names of the houses announced loudly, and the musicians played as the guests entered. At one point, my gaze drifted to the opposite end of the room—he was there, but he didn’t notice my presence, for which I was grateful. It allowed me to observe him without too much risk.

The night dragged on, tediously long. After the introductions and the obligatory flattery to the royal family, a banquet ensued, leading to an extended evening of dancing. I had grown accustomed to moving on autopilot—smiling, exchanging graceful words with the guests, and granting a dance or two to those who asked. I stuck to my role, ensuring the night would pass quickly enough until the appropriate moment to excuse myself arrived.

I danced with various maidens of the court, from both major and minor houses, without objection, offering them my most charming smile and gallant gaze, allowing them to have their moment of fantasy. Until, to my surprise, the young heir of House Tyrell requested to be my partner for the next dance. Although such acts were not forbidden, it was true that the whispers of the court were the deadliest of weapons. However, in keeping with the role I played, I graciously accepted the invitation. Perhaps as an act of rebellion, a way to infuriate my mother, to make myself noticed. In the rhythm that followed—several minutes that felt eternal—I did my best not to push the boy away. I had decided to take a risk, and I had to be consistent. His gaze sought mine relentlessly; he seemed anxious, his steps clumsy and eager, as if he wanted to devour me. My discomfort only grew, but I had to maintain appearances.

When the music finally ended, I silently thanked the Seven. I realized his intentions, he wanted to steal a kiss, so I quickly disentangled myself from him. That was more than enough to tell me that my night had come to an end. After bidding farewell to father I swiftly made my way toward my quarters, perhaps later to slip away for a stroll in the gardens or to lock myself in the library to continue my readings.

“Are you leaving already, Your Highness?”

I froze on the spot when his voice came from behind me. Slowly, I turned to face him, dressed in black and red, those garments clinging too well to his figure, accentuating that imposing frame. His posture was relaxed, but the way his features were set suggested a certain anger.

“I'm afraid so, Prince Jacaerys,” I quickly cleared my throat. “The night has ended for me. Why do you ask?”

“I was wondering if Your Highness would grant me one last dance before retiring,” he replied calmly, extending his hand.

A knot formed in my throat. I stood there, staring at his hand, his words having caught me completely off guard. My eyes darted between his hand and his impassive face, so different from how I must have looked.

“Are you sure?” I questioned him. “The next piece is much more intimate; perhaps you should ask one of the maidens present. They would gladly accept.”

“Believe me, I'm well aware of the next piece, and my decision remains the same,” a mischievous smile played on his lips. “So, Daeron, will you dance with me?”

My heart raced at the sound of my name on his lips. Suddenly, it felt as if the noise around us disappeared, leaving just the two of us. I gazed at his hand, questioning whether this was sensible.

“You know this will only cause trouble, don’t you?”

“I was counting on it.”

It wasn’t sensible, damn it, of course it wasn’t, but my deepest desires overpowered logic, and I took his hand. Jace led us to the center of the hall, making sure everyone saw us, and when the music began, he took the lead. I didn’t have the courage to look him in the eyes or to look away—either option was equally uncomfortable. The momentary silence that swept the room told me we had been seen, but when his arm gripped my lower back firmly, all that faded away, and it was just him and me.

When the piece ended and we parted, I slipped back into my role, politely said my goodbyes, and fled before I could truly register the stares. With quick steps, I ran through the castle, but away from my chambers—my mother would search there first. I needed to hide. I ran to the library, hoping to lose myself among the tall shelves filled with books. It was the second most likely place she would search, but I couldn’t think clearly. My heart was pounding fiercely, and my ears were ringing. I was still trying to pull myself together when I felt hands roughly grab my body and slam me against the shelves. I resisted immediately, terrified, flailing in the dark, but I was easily overpowered, two hands gripping my wrists tightly.

A roguish laugh echoed in the room, and I instantly recognized it.

“Jacaerys?”

I saw him emerge from the shadows, his dark eyes feeling deeper, like those of a dragon. I didn’t understand his actions; I tried to pull away, but he held me tighter.

“What do you think you’re doing?” I demanded, my voice laced with irritation.

His expression grew darker, as if he were wrestling with something within himself.

“Honestly? I don’t know. But you forced me to come this far.”

“Force you? What are you talking about? Have you lost your mind?”

“Yes, I lost my mind when I saw Tyrell hovering around you, the way he touched you and overstepped his bounds. I wanted to incinerate him for daring to—”

“For daring to what?”

“For daring to touch what is mine.”

My head began to spin at that moment. I could feel my heart pounding in my skull, and my mouth went terribly dry.

“Yet, I must thank him.”

“Why?” I felt like I was asking foolish questions, as if he expected me to understand what was happening.

“Because he gave me the push I needed to claim what belongs to me.”

I gasped at his words—claim me? What did he mean by that? A deeper part of me knew exactly what he meant, but my rational mind fought against it.

“Jace, I think we should—”

He silenced me with his mouth. The air rushed from my lungs in that instant. I was stunned by the contact—his warm lips against mine, kissing me with roughness, with need; in his words, claiming me. But despite everything I might have fantasized about, I suddenly felt overwhelmed. Taking advantage of the fact that his grip had loosened, I freed my hands to push him away, though not entirely letting go.

“Go slower, please,” I pleaded, embarrassment flooding me as I felt him trying to deepen the kiss. I was grateful that our faces were barely visible in the dim light, for my pallor had vanished, replaced by a burning scarlet.

He didn’t respond with words, but with actions. He grabbed my wrists again, placing my arms over his shoulders, then slid his own around my waist. His lips captured mine once more, but this time more slowly, allowing me to follow his lead. His grip tightened, pulling me closer to him, making me feel how hard he was—just like me. When his hips moved and our erections brushed together deliciously, I couldn’t help but moan, a sound he took advantage of to slip his tongue into my mouth. I was surprised at how naturally I received him, matching his movements with my own. I blushed, embarrassed at how eagerly I let his tongue play with mine.

When we finally separated, saliva dripped from our mouths, and our breaths were ragged. We barely lasted a few seconds before we were kissing again. This time, the pace quickened, leaving behind any pretense of calm as we surrendered to passion. He held me tighter, almost as if he wanted to devour me, making me more acutely aware of the heat radiating from his body, how hard he was. I moaned louder as his hips thrust against mine, and suddenly, I found myself a slave to my desires, grinding against him, rubbing our cocks together like animals in heat.

“Don’t stop,” he panted between breaths, letting me do all the work.

His lips left mine, tracing the line of my jaw with the tip of his tongue until he reached my neck, where the bothersome fabric of my clothes wrapped around it. With a frustrated tug, he freed one of his hands to tear the fabric away. As soon as my skin was exposed, his lips descended, the warmth of them sending shivers down my spine. I felt his tongue tease my skin, but when his teeth grazed it, I quickly pulled back.

“No marks,” I growled, and he complied, lowering his lips to my collarbone, content to feast on that area instead. He planted wet kisses on my burning skin, his saliva trickling down as his tongue traced imaginary lines.

Jace loosened his grip around my waist, letting his hands slide down to my legs as he lifted me. My back slammed into the shelves, but I didn’t care. He wedged his body between my thighs, and I quickly clung to his back. His crotch ground hard against mine, and I moaned into his ear, which only seemed to excite him further, if that were possible. This time, he took control, pinning me as he rubbed his hardness against mine, while my hands tangled in his hair, pulling and messing up his curls. I felt a familiar heat pooling in my lower abdomen—my climax was near. Desperate for release, I wrapped my legs around him, pulling him closer, craving more friction. I buried my face in his neck, stifling my moans, my cry of pleasure muffled as I came. He wasn’t far behind, joining me soon after, his face also buried in my neck, but his cry was stifled by his teeth sinking into my collarbone. I screamed, a mixture of surprise, pain, and pleasure coursing through me as his teeth dug into my flesh, tearing at me.

Our ragged breaths filled the room as we slowly sank to the floor. My vision was blurred, my heart racing, and I felt the cold sweat on my skin. His body pressed gently against mine, and he returned to kissing my neck, this time with soft, chaste pecks. I felt numb, as if my body had been dismembered.

“That was good,” he murmured in my ear, “better than I expected.”

“What were you expecting to get?” I managed to ask.

“To finally kiss you, for fuck’s sake.”

My heart pounded at his confession. But slowly, rationality began to take over again.

“We should go. It wouldn’t be wise to be found here,” I said, as I tried to stand up.

But he didn’t let me get far; his arms wrapped around me again.

“Come to my chambers,” he whispered in my ear.

“You’ve lost your mind.”

“I lost it a long time ago—for you.”

I gasped again at his confession. I didn’t know how to handle any of this—what I had believed would only ever happen in my fantasies was becoming real, Jace was confessing to me. And the way I dealt with it was the same as always: I ran away.

After that night, I avoided leaving my chambers at all costs, deceiving the maesters with a feigned illness supposedly brought on by the excesses of the banquet. This allowed me to escape long enough for the situation to calm down. However, the pressure in my chest and the constant nerves refused to leave me. Reliving the events of that night stirred a whirlwind of emotions within me—worries and anxieties plagued my mind, yet the heat of those memories always returned with force. Like dragonfire, they reduced my concerns to ashes, leaving me at the mercy of desire and passion.

Mother visited me in the days that followed. If she was furious, she didn’t show it, but I knew she was. She expressed concern for my supposed illness, but that lasted only a moment before she revealed her true thoughts.

“Be cautious, my son. Do not let their words and promises cloud your judgment. Always remember the duty you must fulfill.”

Those words, rather than leaving an impression on me, only caused confusion. There was something unusual about them—they weren’t the typical sermons or warnings Mother usually gave us. It was as if they were more a reminder to herself than advice for me.

“I will, Mother,” I replied, bowing my head.

I managed to stretch the lie about my condition for a fortnight before returning to my duties, once again in strict solitude. However, this time I avoided the library at all costs, as the memories were still too fresh. So my studies were confined to my chambers. But this wasn’t the best decision, as leaving the safety of the bookshelves put me more on the radar of my family, especially after what Aegon called the “Bastard Dance.” I had become the talk of the court. Yet a part of me couldn’t help but smile with pride, knowing that what the ladies and nobles gossiped about was something they were completely ignorant of—something that was mine alone, once again.

Father was proud, or so he let me know, as he believed that I had shown more courage and wisdom than my brothers through the decision I had made. If the idea of a possible youthful romance between the two princes, as some whispered, crossed his mind, he didn’t care. To him, my action was seen as a way to unite rather than divide. In his words, for once, my mother’s house motto made sense.

We Light the Way.

Despite everything, I eventually grew tired of the whispers and excessive attention, so I returned to the peace and solitude of the shelves. In all that time, I hadn’t heard anything from Jace, so I assumed he wasn’t at court. With any luck, his parents had also reprimanded him for the recklessness of his actions and sent him to Dragonstone or Driftmark with his grandparents. Considering the recent tensions between the factions, it wouldn’t be beneficial to let the rumors continue to grow.

However, all those assumptions died when something covered my vision. I tried to struggle, but the other body pinned me against the table.

“If you scream, next time I’ll kiss you in front of the entire court,” Jace’s deep voice came.

I would have preferred he stabbed me, that he cut my throat, but he was clever and played his cards well. What seemed like a childish threat was more dangerous than any of the most fearsome Valyrian steel swords. My body relaxed in a gesture of surrender.

“Don’t say anything, just follow me.”

He took my hand with conviction and dragged me along, still blindfolded. I had lost my sense of direction and was at Jace’s mercy, along with whatever he had planned. With agile movements, he guided me through what I assumed were the castle’s hallways until we stopped for a moment to listen to the sound of a heavy door opening. He pulled me again. The change in the environment, now colder and more humid, told me we were moving away from the usual corridors of the castle and deeper into its inner passages. We descended a seemingly endless staircase before reaching level ground again, where our footsteps echoed in the space. We stopped, and finally, he uncovered my eyes; the torchlight forced me to close them momentarily.

“Don’t you think this is a bit excessive?” I asked as I removed the blindfold.

We were in the castle’s secret passages, the intricate network that formed a second castle within the walls of the Red Keep.

“Not at all,” he said with a smug expression.

“What exactly have you brought me here for?”

“So clever in some things and not so much in others.”

I was about to rebuke him, but there was no opportunity. He lunged at me again, claiming my lips for the second time. He pressed me against the cold stone while his hands, this time, didn’t hesitate to explore my body, grabbing and squeezing as they pleased. I moaned embarrassingly into his mouth when his hands firmly grasped my ass.

“Jace,” I gasped, trying to push him away clumsily, his hands still massaging me, and I sensed they would soon be unsatisfied with just the feel of the fabric.

“Consider this your little punishment,” he murmured in my ear as his hands moved to the edge of my trousers.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t play dumb, Daeron,” he bit my earlobe as his fingers began to slip behind my garment. “You vanished because…”

“Because I was sick,” I fought for my lie, squirming against his touch.

“Maybe the others believed your little lie, but we both know that wasn’t the case.”

“What you think doesn’t matter to me.”

His laughter echoed against my neck.

“I love this about you, your conviction, your unwillingness to give in easily. Like the good Targaryen prince you are,” suddenly his warmth vanished, he had pulled away, “but that doesn’t mean I intend to pressure you, so I’ll make it easy for you—you decide: we can continue whatever this is between us, or we can let it die here.”

If there was one thing I could thank my mother for, it was the way she had trained me over the years so that my face never revealed what I truly felt. Otherwise, the panic that gripped me in that instant would have been easy to spot. I felt distressed, caught between a rock and a hard place. My reasoning screamed at me to end it immediately—he was a Black, I was a Green—this would not end well. Whatever was between us would never flourish, as our families, the doctrine, the kingdom—our mothers—would never allow it. I took a moment to observe where we were, the shadows that enveloped the fearful torch. This was all I could aspire to—secret meetings in the depths of hell, small crumbs that would last only as long as our duty allowed. Our story would never endure, it wouldn’t even be told, as the only witnesses would be the darkness and the rats.

Yet, I decided to silence the voices of reason and duty, becoming a slave to desire and fantasy. I grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him to me, crushing my lips against his, showing him the decision I had made. He smiled against them before kissing me back, sealing a pact between us and beginning our romance. To outside eyes, we acted as usual, with distance and cordiality, ensuring we fulfilled the roles assigned to us. But when the gazes disappeared, we revealed our true selves. The encounters happened with a frequency that I found both embarrassing and thrilling. Every day, we eagerly awaited the moment we could meet and conduct a private training session. We would sneak into the depths of the castle to release our passions and desires, each becoming an expert in the other’s lips and body.

“Today, I want to try something different.

“What thing?” I gasped, as he licked my collarbone, accentuating the marks of his teeth still imprinted on my skin despite the time that had passed. “If you keep touching, it will never heal.”

“I want it to last, for everyone to witness the mark that makes you mine.”

“What is it that you want to try?” I asked, taking his face in my hands to look at him, steering the conversation back to the previous topic.

He smiled mischievously, his hand resting on my arousal and stroking it, causing me to shiver. When I realized his intentions, I couldn’t help but feel anxious.

“I don’t plan on having sex with you in a place like this.”

His laughter echoed through the room, making my face burn.

“What’s so funny?”

“That’s not at all what I had in mind, but…” his face came close to mine, the shadows of the flames casting a threatening dragon-like silhouette across his features. “I’m glad to see how far you’re willing to go.”

His fingers began to play with the laces of my pants.

“I’d love to see and touch you. What do you say, Daeron? Aren’t you interested too?”

My eyes darted from his lustful face to the fingers playing with the fabric. Slowly, I brought my hand closer until the tips of my fingers brushed the cords of his pants.

“Let’s just take it slow.”

“You set the pace; I’ll follow your lead.”

Despite the clumsiness of my movements, I managed to untangle the fabric, creating an opening large enough to slide my hand in. On his part, his movements were more agile, achieving the same with less effort. I looked at him again, both eager and nervous, and after gathering my courage, I began to slide my fingers through the opening. I felt the soft brush of his hair as I descended. The way his eyes closed indicated he was enjoying it. I did the same, closing my eyes and savoring the sensation of his fingers descending as well, gently caressing my fine hairs. I reached his hardness, warm and firm, constrained by the garment. My initial nerves dissipated, and my movements became more deliberate. I explored and squeezed, getting a sense of his length and girth. Jace didn’t hold back his moans, and neither did I, as my fingers also explored his arousal with exquisite care. Jace took control when he was sure I wouldn’t back down, pulling down my pants to expose me from the waist down, and then doing the same with his. We both remained silent, observing our arousals, their similarities, differences, and peculiarities. It was my turn to take charge. I wrapped my hand around his hardness, beginning to pump it in the way that I liked.

“Damn, Daeron,” he gasped, his voice strained by the movement. “Don’t stop.”

He quickly joined in and began to masturbate me, but his method was harsher and faster, resulting in more discomfort than pleasure.

“Jace, stop,” I pleaded, my tone betraying pain, and he immediately ceased. His expression now showed concern.

“Did I hurt you?” he asked, distressed. “I’m sorry.”

I shook my head. From his look, I could tell he was considering pulling back, but I didn’t want that to happen; I needed to continue. I took his wrist and, with a gentle tug, drew him back. His eyes met mine, and I signaled for him to sit. Jace complied without protest, following my command, and I did the same, maintaining eye contact. Slowly, I lowered myself to straddle him. His pupils dilated further as he gasped. I paid little attention, not wanting the boldness of my actions to falter, focusing on what I had in mind. Our erections brushed together due to the close proximity. From my position, I lowered my head and, with deliberate movements, opened my lips and spat. The thick drop of saliva fell onto one of the glans. Jace emitted a deep, guttural sound from his throat, and I simply raised my face and smiled mischievously. My hand wrapped around both erections, spreading the saliva and lubricating them. One spit was not enough, so I prepared to spit again, but he decided it was his turn. With a triumphant grin, he leaned forward, his lips moving to expel a spit, the saliva bubbling and making noise as it fell onto our erections. I welcomed his contribution spreading it along with mine over our lengths, it now felt much better for both of us.

Jace closed the distance to kiss me as I continued to masturbate us. Our lips barely connected due to the moans and sighs we exhaled. I immersed myself passionately in the task, varying the speed and pressure. I didn’t just stroke the length; I also focused on the heads, massaging them and creating friction with the palm of my hand. I enjoyed this role reversal; I had control now, while Jace was a bundle of nerves and moans. I was the one causing that state in him, I was the one who had him. His hands gripped my hips tightly, seeking refuge in my neck, a sign that he was close. I was too. I increased the speed and intensity of my movements. A sharper moan echoed against my ear, and his fingers dug into my skin like claws. I deliberately moved my neck, exposing my collarbone, inviting him to mark me again. I had to admit, I excessively enjoyed the sensation of his teeth against my skin. It was something primal, an animalistic desire. I sighed at the feel of his incisors grazing my skin, not quite biting. It wasn’t long before he reached orgasm, growling hoarsely before biting down hard and releasing his seed. I followed shortly, writhing as I climaxed, but he held me tightly, biting even harder, taking my breath away.

We remained still in our position, panting, waiting for the tidal wave of orgasm to subside. I had collapsed onto his shoulder, my vision blurred by pleasure and my hair. He, in turn, provided gentle caresses along my back while kissing and licking the sore, bruised skin of my collarbone. Slowly, we began to separate. Our eyes connected, and I raised my hand, watching the semen drip between my fingers… It was dragon’s seeds. Jace intended to find something to clean me with, but he was captivated when he saw me open my mouth and trace one of my fingers with my tongue, collecting our seed to swallow it. 

He decided to join me. 

With a devoted expression on his face as he brought his lips close, sucking one of his fingers clean. I shivered at the way his muscles enveloped my phalanges. When he pulled away, the corner of his lips was stained. He noticed, but before he could clean himself I leaned in to lick him. In a swift motion, he captured my mouth and our tongues began to play with the remnants of our seed, sharing its taste.

“Can we stay like this for a while?” he whispered against my lips.

I nodded silently, settling onto his shoulder. I wrapped my arms around his back while seeking refuge in his neck, his hair tickling my cheek. He rested his chin on my shoulder, and his arms clung to my waist. We remained silent, enjoying the warmth and comfort of each other’s bodies. Even when the torch went out and shadows enveloped us, we did not part, wishing to prolong it as much as possible. At that moment, it was just the two of us; everything else had vanished or no longer mattered.

Sadly, the storm was not long in coming. It all started when Father began to wither. His health, visibly deteriorating with the passing years, reached a point where it seemed there was no turning back. He underwent horrific surgeries to remove parts of his body, with the intention of saving him and extending his reign a bit longer, but these had the opposite effect. I kept him company as much as possible, spending as many hours as I could by his side, assisting him with his model, listening to his stories and ramblings due to the poppy milk, singing to him at night to help him sleep, and silently weeping while I accompanied him in his dreams. Mother assumed the regency in his name, which only increased the conflicts between our families, heightening the tension further.

Yet my fury and rage only grew, for to everyone else it seemed that the Iron Throne was of greater importance than our own father. While he faded away, others danced around the throne, eager to seize his power. But this soon transmuted into profound sadness, one into which I was slowly sinking. I felt like I was the only one who truly cared about Father. I knew I was not his favorite child—indeed, that honor belonged to someone else, and he had never been the most attentive or concerned father. I was the youngest, always in the shadow of others. But he was my father, and I loved him, and in one way or another, he always made me aware of it. It hurt and frustrated me that others had failed to appreciate the love and kindness of a man like him, that they hadn't made the most of their time with him. I longed for more, wishing he were by my side not only to witness the great feats life had in store for me and be proud of me but also because he was my father, and I was not yet ready to lose him.

The time I wasn’t with Father, I spent in my chambers, away from the noise and poison of the court. I spent long hours in the bath, scrubbing until I bled, trying to wash away the smell of death from my skin. My fingers unconsciously toyed with the scar on my collarbone. I missed Jace; our meetings had dwindled to the point of disappearing, and we ended up merely exchanging glances at gatherings and councils where the entire family had to be present. It was as if we had become two mere strangers again. However, these encounters too began to fade, as my growing sadness only intensified my exhaustion. I constantly lost my appetite and withdrew. They had enough with a dying king without adding a sickly prince to the mix.

The doors to the room opened, and I watched Mother enter. I had no desire to speak with her; she would likely come to reprimand me for running out of the banquet and embarrassing everyone in front of other lords of the realm. The servants had probably told her they found me vomiting not far from the hall. I observed her hesitant steps around the room, as if unsure how to approach me. I saw her crouch down to my level. I had my face hidden between my knees, trying to look truly pitiable, with my pallid complexion turned sickly, deep circles under my eyes highlighted by the violet of my irises, and my hair disheveled and tangled. I was everything a Targaryen prince should not be: weak. Yet for the first time, I saw genuine concern in her. Her mask was gone. It was something I could not bear, so I turned my gaze away, but she would not allow it. Her palm rested on my cheek to turn my face towards her, preventing me from escaping. Her pain and anguish were palpable as she struggled to find the right words, unable to speak.

However, her expression changed in a matter of seconds when her eyes discovered something. She went from surprise to terror, and then to anguish. As if she had seen the Stranger himself, she recoiled from me, rising to flee the room.

I didn't need to be particularly perceptive to know what she had discovered. Slowly, I sank into the tub until my body was completely submerged. I gazed at the water's surface, finding relief in the pressure it exerted against my body.

A few days later, Mother summoned me. I was reading to Father when her guards came to fetch me. They escorted me to her quarters, where she awaited by the window, her back turned to me.

“Mother,” I said, breaking the stifling silence that reigned.

“I've begun preparations for your departure to Oldtown. You will be under the protection of Lord Hightower, who will instruct you as his cupbearer and squire. Your departure will be soon.”

“Understood, Mother.”

I left the room and leaned against the door, biting one of my fingers until it bled while furious tears streamed down my face. My heart raced, and I could barely think clearly. I remember racing through the fortress corridors at high speed, ignoring everyone, running out to the courtyard to mount a horse and ride away from those suffocating walls, ignoring the shouts behind me. At Dragonstone, I ordered the caretakers to release Tessarion. My dragon emerged from her lair, guided by the caretakers, while I tried to compose myself. I heard her worried sounds as she bumped her snout against my chest. I could only embrace her as more tears fell. Mounted on the Blue Queen, I took flight. I didn't need to give her any commands; she understood my state and what I desired. We soared through the sky above the city at high speed, passing close to the fortress I dared not look at. I simply hid my face in her scales as she carried me away from there. I was fleeing once again.

Flying had always fascinated me since I was a child. Once I was old enough, I didn’t hesitate to ride my dragon and traverse the skies of King’s Landing. Some even thought they would never see me again, believing I would never come down. Navigating the skies always helped me calm my thoughts, as from such heights, I felt not only as if everything shrank to nothing but also truly free, as if the vastness invited me to explore the unknown and never look back, until I disappeared.

It was a consolation, feeling that if I wished, I could one day simply turn to some random point and vanish into the rays of dusk. No one would follow me; I would be completely free. But even though the opportunity was always there, I had never dared to take it. Just like the dragons, divine beings, who had ended up bowed before the chains of their masters, I was the same before the Iron Throne; my life would always be directed by someone else, as I was just a pawn destined to follow orders, never truly free from those chains.

But this time, perhaps my opportunity had come.

From high above, I watched the calm waters, recalling how their pressure eased my distress, and I began to fantasize about simply letting myself fall and having the sea engulf my body. I was soaring above the Narrow Sea, having left the capital behind. Tessarion was swift, capable of covering great distances in little time, so by the time anyone tried to find her, my body would have already vanished among the sea currents. With my gaze fixed on the waves, my thoughts drifted towards one direction, an ending—a simple leap and it would all be over. My hand rested on the straps securing me to the saddle, a single pull to loosen them, and I would only have to let the wind currents carry me away.

Suddenly, Tessarion stirred, emitting a roar that pulled me from my thoughts.

“What’s wrong, girl?”

The sun was suddenly obscured. Looking up, I saw a silhouette diving towards us, so I quickly pulled on the reins to divert Tessarion from the path of the other dragon, which had descended menacingly close to us. It quickly climbed again, right in front of us, disrupting Tessarion’s trajectory and forcing my dragon to hold her position. She roared furiously; she wasn’t a skilled warrior and had never fought another dragon before. Fearing that she might lose control, I quickly descended. Behind us, I could hear the other dragon roaring, perhaps one of the wild dragons roaming the realm. The most sensible thing to do was to get away and find refuge.

As I descended, I spotted a cliff not far from my position. I directed Tessarion towards it, dismounted in haste upon arrival, and tried to calm her. I placed my hands on her snout, seeking her gaze. A sudden, jarring impact broke our contact. Turning around, I saw the other dragon and recognized it immediately. Jace dismounted from Vermax quickly. I was stunned as I watched him approach with determination and anger, moving swiftly.

“Jac—”

My words died in my throat as he grabbed me by the collar of my shirt, pushing and shaking me. I lost my balance and nearly fell, but his grip was firm, preventing me from hitting the ground. Now, I could see his face more clearly, flushed and twisted with fury, but it was his eyes that captured my attention the most, tears threatening to overflow.

Behind us, the dragons roared, ready to defend their riders.

“Why did you do that?” he shouted.

“Jace, I—”

“Tell me! Why?”

“I needed to get out of there! I couldn’t stay confined, my mother—”

“No!” he shook me furiously, his voice cracking. “I saw you, you wanted to loosen the straps, you—”

He couldn’t continue as his crying threatened to break out, silent tears starting to fall down his cheeks.

“Jace, I—”

“Do you still not understand?” he asked with pain. He released my shirt to take my hands, squeezing them and looking me straight in the eye. “If you decide to jump, I’ll jump with you. If you decide to run, I’ll run with you. If you decide to stay, I’ll stay by your side. If you decide to fight, I’ll fight with you. You and I are in this together. I don’t care about our houses, the realm, the throne, or our mothers. None of that matters to me because I just want to be by your side. It’s always been like that and it always will be. Because—” his voice faltered, more tears falling, “I love you, Daeron.”

I wanted to tell him that I loved him too, that it had always been that way and always would be, but I was overwhelmed, overwhelmed and suffocated; everything I had endured came to the surface. Choked by the storm, all I could do was cry. Jace opened his arms to envelop me like wings. I buried my head in his chest, soaking his clothes with my bitter tears. I clung to him like a shipwrecked sailor.

After a while, he pulled away, taking my face in his hands and making me look into his eyes.

“I need to know why you were going to jump. Please, Daeron, tell me. I can’t stand seeing you wither away. If it’s because of your father…”

“It’s not just that,” I sobbed. “I’m tired of having my life directed by others, Jace. Of having no voice, of having to bend to others’ wishes. I’m tired of being a toy… Mother is going to send me to Oldtown.”

“Wha—” consternation spread across his face.

I nodded, watching as fear overtook him.

“She knows about us. That’s why she wants to send me to Oldtown, to separate us. It’s all my fault. I’m sorry, Jace, I’m sorry.”

I began to sob again, and he embraced me once more, this time with more intensity, distressed by my words. We remained in that position, unmoving for an immeasurable amount of time.

“I won’t let them separate us,” he whispered, stroking my hair.

“It’s too late for that. The decision has already been made.”

“I don’t give a damn,” he pulled away from me, his face etched with rage but gradually softening. His gentle hands began to wipe away my tears. “Come with me to Dragonstone. Let’s stay there. It’s my mother’s castle; the queen consort has no authority over it.”

“That will only bring us more trouble.”

Jace took my hands.

“Do you trust me?”

My response was immediate.

“I trust you.”

“Then come with me.”

I wanted to weigh the pros and cons, especially the cons. But I was so exhausted from the noise that I finally leaped. I lifted my face to look at Jace and then nodded. He led us to his dragon to mount and take off. Jace piloted the flight while Tessarion followed behind us. I leaned against his back, exhausted, closed my eyes, and let the world around me disappear.