The Rogue Prince

Chapter 1

"Who are you?" he asks. The 'he' being Daemon Targaryen, the Rogue Prince, newly returned to Runestone.

It's a perfectly normal question to ask a stranger you just met on a stairwell, but the heated look in his eyes sets Lady Myranda's heart racing all the same.

"I am called Myranda, my Prince. I am cousin to your lady wife."

"Oh, are you?" Daemon raises his eyebrows doubtfully. "I find that hard to believe. You're much too pretty to share blood with my bronze bitch."

"Lady Rhea is a good woman, my Prince." The words are out of her mouth before she can check herself. "I wish you would not speak of her in that way."

"In what way?"

Myranda lowers her gaze to stare at his boots. Oh no. She has spoken out of turn. Worse, she has spoken out of turn to a Prince reputed for being dangerous, impulsive, unpredictable and easily offended. What was she thinking?

Daemon grasps her chin between his thumb and index finger, tilting her face up.

"In what way, Lady Myranda?" The smile on his lips doesn't reach his eyes. He's angry. She can feel it in her bones.

She swallows the lump in her throat. It's too late to back out now. "Disrespectfully, sir."

He clicks his tongue. "I will speak of my wife as I wish." The Rogue Prince is not a man to be trifled with. Some call him a hero, but others -like his wife- say he is the blackest of villains. Myranda can guess why. "Do you understand me?"

"Y-yes my Prince."

"Good." His eyes drop to her lips and his expression changes. It doesn't soften precisely. It just shifts. His thumb wanders up from her chin to trace the seam of her mouth before gliding over her lower lip. She doesn't dare move. Daemon keeps staring.

Then abruptly, he releases her, and continues on up the stairs as though nothing occurred.

***

Daemon Targaryen has been known to say that in the Vale, the sheep are prettier than the women. But if he truly believes this, then why do his eyes follow her wherever she goes?

Yes, Myranda has been called a beauty before. She's known as 'the most comely girl in the Vale'. Many men have asked for her hand, but her uncle is 'saving her' for someone 'special'... like a Lord from a great House.

Still, Prince Daemon must have seen far prettier ladies in a great city like King's Landing surely. How could a provincial miss like her ever compete? Not that she cares. He's married to her cousin. She would never...

She can't decide whether she finds his interest in her exciting or unsettling. Either way, it's not something to be encouraged, and she does her best to steer clear of him.

It's not easy. The prince has never been in Runestone so long before. His hatred for his wife -and all the Vale for that matter- are well known. He's very forthright with his opinions. But now it seems his brother, the King, has ordered him to remain here. Myranda wonders how long he will stay.

Life will be much more comfortable once he's gone again. Life will also be much duller.

From a safe distance, Myranda carefully observes the prince. She does not think him a handsome man -at least not in the traditional way. But there's something about him all the same. Something in the way he walks, like he owns every room he steps into... in the way he laughs, throwing his head back like a child.

Best not to dwell on his attractions. Myranda's heard all the stories about "Lord Flea Bottom" from her cousin Rhea. She will not be lured in.

***