Night fell over King's Landing like a thick blanket, hiding the stars behind clouds, as if fate itself did not want to witness the upcoming events. The youngest daughter of King Viserys I and Alicent Hightower, glided through the streets of the city, hiding in the shadows. Her blonde hair, unlike the silver locks of the Targaryens, remained in the shadows, and her eyes did not emit that signature lilac shine. Now she was grateful to the gods for this, because her "ordinariness" helped her blend into the crowd and remain unnoticed. Even if in the palace, among her family, she was a black sheep. Now, escaping from the palace, she could finally find the freedom that she had been deprived of since childhood.

Since childhood, she had understood one simple truth: no one was free in this family. Everyone was someone's pawn, bound by chains of blood and ambition.

She watched as her siblings became pieces in the game for the throne, as her mother schemed to put Aegon on the Iron Throne and Rhaenyra fought for her right to the succession. She always stayed in the shadows because nothing was expected of her. She was out of place, and that was what gave her a chance at true freedom.

Her invisibility became her strength. She had no desire to be someone else's pawn in a war for the throne—a war that tore her family apart was never her war. She saw no point in an endless struggle for power that brought only pain and destruction. Her world could be a quiet life away from the palace walls, away from cold stares and endless conspiracies.

The Dance of the Dragons began, and the family turned into a snake devouring its own tail. It should have been the end of an era, but not for her. For her, life had finally begun.

Night was falling over King's Landing, and the streets were silent, broken only by the occasional creaking of wooden carts and the soft lapping of waves at the pier. She walked along the stone pavements with an ease she had not felt in a long time. Her heart beat in her chest in rhythm with her steps, and the anticipation of freedom filled her soul. For the first time in a long time, she felt alive.

The wind gently played with her dark hair as she approached the pier. In the distance, illuminated by the dim light of lanterns, stood her rescue ship. Its sails, taut and ready to sail, promised to carry her far away from this place, from the palace, where every step was accompanied by fear. She breathed in the sea air. It was refreshing.

The girl barely managed to approach the ship when everything around her froze. A cold hand suddenly grabbed her mouth, pressing it tightly before she could scream. Panic flared in her chest, and her heart began to beat wildly. Strong arms pressed her to themselves, and before she could even resist, her body went limp, plunging into darkness.

"Hush, hush..." — a hoarse but familiar voice sounded right next to her ear — "Everything will be fine. I will not harm you."

A familiar timbre cut through the panic fog in her head. The voice was unforgettable—Daemon Targaryen's. Then the girl's consciousness was plunged into darkness.

Heavy breathing filled her lungs as she slowly came to her senses. Her head was spinning slightly, as if she were still in a fog, and the bitter taste of the medicine that Daemon had forced her to inhale was still on her lips. She opened her eyes with difficulty, trying to figure out where she was.

The room was lit by soft candlelight, their flickering reflected on the golden draperies and heavy velvet curtains. The bed beneath her was soft, covered in silken sheets that were gentle against her skin. But that feeling of comfort quickly gave way to anxiety when she realized she was not alone. Her gaze dropped downward, and her heart skipped a beat. Next to her, on the same bed, Daemon was sleeping peacefully. His face looked relaxed, almost peaceful, but the hand on her stomach reminded her of how close he was.

Her body tensed, but before she could do anything, her gaze landed on the other figure in the room. Sitting in the chair by the bed was Rhaenyra. She leaned forward, her hands folded in her lap, her eyes studying every reaction from her intently. Her tension was almost palpable, but her eyes held a strange mixture of anticipation and tenderness.

"You’re awake," Rhaenyra said softly, her voice quiet so as not to startle.