Saera was her mother's favorite daughter, known for being demure and obedient, the smallfolk adored her. She obeyed everything that her king commanded of her, but she protested against her marriage to Ser Harwin Strong.
She catches him in an affai...
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He marched to her room, fearing that fury would cloud his judgment. His eyebrows were furrowed, his fists were clenched. He needed peace, and he knew where to find it.
Daemon opens the door, seeing her sprawled on the bed and reading the book. The light bounced off her face, highlighting her best features. He couldn't stay angry, not in the presence of an angel. "Uncle, how was the meeting?" she sits up straight, the book long forgotten beside her.
She was her uncle's closest confidant. The rational voice that guided his judgment. "Horrible," he replied with one word. He sat on the bed beside her, the mattress slightly bouncing due to the shift in weight.
She places a hand behind his back.
"What happened?" she asked, and he buried his face on her chest. It proved to be difficult being the only person in the council that cared about the safety of the realm. To other lords it was mere business, a status symbol that their daughters could flaunt, but to Daemon it was something bigger – it was their dynasty. A dynasty that Aegon the Conqueror fought hard to have. A dynasty that Maegor and Jaehaerys maintained.
"Did the opposition seek to undermine your ideas?" she questioned. "It was nothing I couldn't handle," he mumbled, taking a deep breath, basking in her scent. "- they are all against battle, but the battle must be fought to prevent the war." he added, as she continued to comb through his hair.
He broke free from the embrace.
He stares deeply into her eyes again. Her eyes that have spoken to him more than her lips ever did. "Father is a slave to his omens and portents. He tells us that he sees a shining future for the realm, and thus he is hesitant when it comes to war. He believes that warfare belongs to a bygone age. You're different, uncle. And until now, I am unsure as to which side I believe in best." she admitted, her lips pressed into a thin line.
She was on her uncle's side, although she couldn't tell her father that.
"You don't need to choose, Saera." he smiled.
The people in his brother's council told him that Daemon would rip his daughters away from him, but it was the opposite. Daemon wanted his brother's appreciation, not his brother's life. He wanted to be the Hand, not the King.
Saera places a hand on his chest, tracing the embroidery on his shirt. His attention shifts to her. "- tell me about your day, little dragon. I hope that it was more welcoming than mine." he asked, kicking his shoes off and laying on her bed.
Saera takes a deep breath, almost sounding like a sigh. "Rhaenyra refuses to speak to me. Everytime I try to speak to her and Lady Alicent, she shoves me away – tells me that I should be spending my time with you." she reported with a frown on her face.
Ever since they were little girls, Saera praised the ground her older sister stepped in. To see them oceans away was a peculiar sight indeed. "Is she jealous of me, then?" his eyes narrowed, aware that he has been hoarding Saera's time since his arrival.
