Champagne Problems | Daemon Targaryen

03.

Daemon

  "I think it's time we discussed Riella," Otto says in the small council meeting. It's been several months and the former princess has been locked in cell with only the rats for company.

  "We cannot let her out," Viserys says as he runs a hand across his face. "She is a danger to my rule, to the kingdom."

  "So it's decided," Otto says and I don't miss the grin that touches his lips. "Riella Targaryen will finally be put to the death?"

  "Very well," Viserys says. "Make the arrangements." As Otto leaves I stay sat beside Viserys.

  "Thank you, for allowing me to return," I say to Viserys. He glances at me but looks away quickly.

  I get up from my chair and walk through the castle, down and down until the sunlight starts to disappear. That's where I find Riella's cell.

  She's curled up in a ball with her bloody back facing me. How far she's fallen.

  "Riella," I say and I grab the water as she looks over her shoulder.

  "What do you want?" She asks as she pushes herself up on one arm. She is coated in dirt and she absolutely stinks.

  "I want a lot of things," I say. I'm appalled at the way that Viserys has been treating his own blood. I know it's not all his doing, Otto is the key player here. But Viserys should've stopped all this before it went so far.

  "They're going to kill me, correct?" She asks in that strong Valyrian accent that I've always liked. Something about Valyrian accents really turns me on. I shift awkwardly.

  "Yes," I say without hesitation. "Or they're going to try." Her eyebrow bolts up. I can't explain all of my plan, but I do have a plan. Or I will have a plan.

  "Why would you help me?" She asks and my eyes trace her collarbone that is completely sticking out of her dirt ridden skin. I want to lick the dirt off her. Wait, no. I do not want to lick the dirt off her, I am not a psychopath.

  "Call it family bonds," I say and she pushes herself up to her full height. Now that she's fully stood up I get a good look at her. She's still wearing the same pink dress she wore at the tourney. The one that showed off her breasts. Now it just shows how skinny she's gotten. The back of the dress is ripped so it slightly sags over her shoulders. The curve of them sends shock waves through my system.

  "We are not family," she says as she walks towards me, we are now an inch apart.

  "Our blood says differently," I say before reaching my hand through the bar and grabbing onto her chin. Forcing her closer to me.

"I'll ask again," she says with fire in her eyes. "What do you want?" I lean closer so that our noses are touching through the bars.

"I want you to be Queen," I say and then she stumbles backwards, out of my grip. Her jaw is clenched and she looks furious.

  "Go away," she says angrily. "I don't want you here anymore. So leave. Go and never come back." She looks hurt.

  "Haven't you ever thought of that?" I say. "You are the true heir." She runs a hand through her dirty hair.

  "You are saying things that could result in your death," she says and she's pacing back and fourth in the cell. Slow pacing due to her horrific back. "He's your brother, why would you do that? What is wrong with you? Family comes first. That's how it should be." A tear is rolling down her face. Family comes first yet her own family did this to her.