After they had finally gotten you to rest, and had admitted their feelings for their Lady Knight, which had been reciprocated, the relationship between the two royals and their sworn knight flourished behind closed doors. Nights spent in each other's beds, even more time spent together during council meetings, sparring, or taking care of the children, you had become a part of their lives that Rhaenyra and Daemon could not live without. A second mother, and protector to their children.

Of course, you had to keep such things secret, though many still noticed the closeness you shared in public settings that none dared mention. So situations like now drove both Daemon and Rhaenyra mad with their jealousy and possessiveness.

It had been a day like any other, the salt breeze carrying the sound of waves against Dragonstone's shores. Daemon trained Jacaerys and Lucerys in swordplay as Rhaenyra watched from afar with Aegon, Viserys, and Joffrey who played in the ocean water. You stood guard a few paces away with Ser Arren Blackwood, another member of the Queensguard.

He had moved closer than protocol dictated, his shoulder brushing yours as he spoke quietly. At first you paid him no mind, focused on your duty, but his persistent smiles and lingering glances eventually drew your attention. You offered a polite response, not wanting to create tension among the guard, unaware of the eyes watching from the distance.

Rhaenyra's fingers tightened around the shell in her hand, its edges cutting into her palm as she watched Ser Arren lean toward you with that flirtatious smile. The sound of children's laughter faded from her awareness, replaced by the roaring in her ears and the tightness in her chest. The smile you gave him – innocent politeness in your mind – looked like encouragement to her jealous eyes.

Later, she whispered to Daemon what she'd seen. His face darkened immediately, the playful spark in his eyes extinguished by a storm of draconic fury. "He forgets his place," he murmured, the threat in his voice clear as the horizon over Blackwater Bay.

That evening, as you stood guard outside their chambers, the door opened unexpectedly. "Come," Rhaenyra said simply, stepping aside. Inside, Daemon stood near the hearth, firelight catching the silver in his hair. Without explanation, they began helping you out of your armor – Rhaenyra unbuckling the chest piece while Daemon's hands lingered on your waist.

"So," Daemon's voice was low, rough with something primal as he brushed a kiss against your neck, "Is Ser Arren more entertaining than us now, hm?"