"Beast. Tyrant. Merciless. They whisper these names behind my back. But when I say, I love you, it is not out of desire, nor out of denial. It is not for my sake at all. I love you for what you are, for what you do, for how you fight. I have witness...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
A brilliant torrent of fire shot out, engulfing the pyre in blinding gold and red. Queen Mellario and Prince Baelon vanished in an instant, consumed by the sacred fire. The crowd gasped, taking several steps backward, shielding their faces from the heat.
All except Daemon.
Among the gathered mourners cloaked in black, one woman stood apart, not by position, but by presence. Lady Selena Dayne, draped in flowing Dornish mourning silks the color of twilight, kept her hood low, but not low enough to mask the expression in her eyes.
Her grey gaze was glassy with grief, rimmed red from tears that may or may not have been real, but her lips, just faintly, curved with something sharper than sorrow.
Grief mingled with satisfaction.
She stood behind the Martell household, far enough not to be noticed by them, but close enough to watch Maegor's every breath. Her fingers trembled slightly as she brushed her hand across her belly, a subtle, almost unconscious gesture.
She said nothing. She didn't need to.
Her cousin, Mellario was dead. The Queen was ash now, wrapped in flame and legend, but Selena was flesh, breathing, waiting.
She had played her role in silence for too long. Rumoured whispers had trailed behind her like perfume in the Red Keep's corridors: Maegor's mistress... the Star of the Dornish Marches... the shadow in Mellario's light. Now the light was gone.
A gust of wind stirred her cloak, revealing the barest glimpse of a silver pin in the shape of a sword and star, House Dayne's sigil. Her eyes lifted to the King, just as he stood like a monument of ruin, staring into the fire that devoured his wife and son.
She did not weep again.
Instead, her lips barely moved as she whispered to herself, Soon.
Howbeit, King Maegor stood still, letting the heat wash over him like penance. A single tear slid down his cheek as he watched the two he loved most vanish into smoke.
Then, quietly, he reached up, removed his crown, and handed it to Rhaenyra. "Go back to the Red Keep," he said, his voice dull.
Rhaenyra blinked. "Uncle? Where are you going? Uncle....Your Grace?"
He said nothing.
"Maegor!" Daemon called, but was ignored.
The King walked toward the cliff's edge.
Valérion sensed him, shrieked, and flapped her wings. The nobles looked around in confusion and fear as Maegor mounted his dragon. Valérion roared once more, shaking the earth.
Before he vanished into the clouds, Maegor looked back. His gaze found Alicent's
Their eyes met.
It was brief, but the pain in his expression tore at her, an ocean of grief behind red-yellow eyes. Then, he was gone, swallowed by sky.
![TO LOVE A KING || Maegor II Targaryen [SLOW UPDATES]](https://img.wattpad.com/cover/367641067-64-k416897.jpg)