The castle was silent when she found you in the library, the last rays of the setting sun painting your face in shades of honey and fire. Rhaena Targaryen, Queen of the West, the woman who swore allegiance to a throne and a husband - but who broke every oath for you.

"You shouldn't be here," you whispered, feeling your heart race as her fingers traced the line of your chin.

She smiled, that dangerous smile that only belonged to you. "And where else would I be, if not next to the one person who makes my blood sing?"

Her kisses tasted like wine and sin, her hands knew every curve of your body better than any prayer. But when the night was over, you always returned to being the secret, the shadow that hid behind the curtains when the king's knights arrived.

"One day," she swore against your lips, "we won't have to hide."

You wanted to believe it. But when the sun rose, she put her crown back on, and you... you were just the lady-in-waiting, the devoted friend, the lover no one could have known existed.