TO LOVE A KING || Maegor II Targaryen [SLOW UPDATES]

017 ▪️THE LAST ATTEMPT

King Maegor Targaryen sat beside her now, his crimson eyes thoughtful, one hand trailing lazily in the bathwater, the other resting on the arm of the velvet-cushioned stool.

He looked like a war-god carved from pale marble and fire, his long silver hair swept behind his shoulders, his expression unreadable but intense.

The black leather of his tunic glinted with gold embroidery shaped like dragons in flight. He was every inch the dragonlord his bloodline promised, yet softened in this moment by the intimacy of husband and wife.

A lull settled between them, warm and companionable, until Mellario's voice turned contemplative. "Has there been word from your dear brother?"

Maegor sighed, his hand leaving the water. "Daemon and I spoke few days ago. Briefly, before he vanished into the clouds again on Caraxes. I'll admit, I was grateful, he saved my life at Harrenhal. I offered him anything he wanted as thanks."

Mellario raised a brow, suspicious already. "Anything? That's dangerous ground, Maegor."

Her husband chuckled darkly. "You know Daemon. He asked for the annulment of his marriage. Again."

Mellario gasped, her eyes widening. "Gods preserve us. That's the twentieth time he's brought it up, is it not? He's relentless. And Lady Rhea... the poor woman. She's become a punchline in court gossip."

Maegor's gaze flickered. "Viserys and Aemma arranged it. I honored their will. It wasn't my doing."

"No, but it was your grandmother's wish," Mellario reminded him, voice soft but firm. "Queen Alysanne hoped to unite the Vale and the Crown through House Royce. Rhea is the heir to Runestone. That alliance matters."

"I know." He looked away briefly, frustration clouding his face. "But Daemon never cared for alliances. Or traditions. I told him I would consider it after the heir's tournament."

That made Mellario pause, eyes narrowing with concern. "Runestone will not take that lightly. And yet... I suspect even they might feel relieved."

Maegor leaned back, the corner of his mouth twitching. "Daemon is chaos given form. I love him as my brother, but every choice I make for his benefit feels like a gamble."

"He's dangerous," Mellario admitted, "but loyal in his own way. Still, his absence from the small council is conspicuous."

"He has not attended a single session since I named him Commander of the City Watch," Maegor muttered. "He prefers the shadows of Flea Bottom to the walls of the Tower of the Hand."