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

055▪️ A FAMILY, DIVIDED

The room was stripped of warmth. The fire in the hearth had long gone out, leaving only cold embers and the sound of boots scuffing against stone. Daemon Targaryen was packing like a man exiling himself from his own grave. His back was tense, movements sharp, the air around him thick with contempt.

Six Unsullied stood watch in the corners like statues carved from silence. Their spears gleamed faintly in the dim light.

Daemon glanced at them with disgust. "Does your King think I'll slit his throat on my way out? Or is this just Otto Hightower's latest show of power? Always was fond of theatre, that one."

He shoved folded tunics into his travel chest, then grabbed a half-rolled map from a shelf and crushed it into the side pocket.

"Tell your handlers this," he said loud enough for the guards, "Daemon Targaryen doesn't crawl. He leaves."

Just then, the door opened, Rhaenyra stepped in, hesitant at first, then rushing forward.

"Uncle," she said softly. "You don't have to do this. I've been to the council, I spoke to Maegor. There's still time to."

"To what?" Daemon interrupted, not looking at her. "Grovel? Swear false fealty to ease the King's conscience? No. That boy wears a crown, but he doesn't rule. Otto does. Through fear. Through whispers. Through her."

Rhaenyra blinked. "Her?"

"Charlotte," Daemon spat the name like venom. "You still don't see it, do you? Mellario's barely cold in the ground and that silver-tongued vulture is already coiling around the King. Or did you think it was love? Affection?"

Rhaenyra's voice broke. "She... she was my friend."

Daemon finally turned to face her. His face was twisted with grief, fury, something darker.

"She's no friend of yours. She's a covetous bitch, Rhaenyra. Like her father. Scheming. Watching. And you? You're too kind to see it. That's what makes you vulnerable."

Rhaenyra's tears had gathered now. She didn't speak. Couldn't.

Daemon locked the buckles on his chest. At that moment, two quiet servants entered and took hold of the luggage without a word.

He stepped toward her and lowered his voice.

"Look after yourself. Trust no one. Not your guards. Not your maids. Especially not your maids. Otto's ears are everywhere."

She wiped her cheek, but it did nothing to stop the tears.

Daemon looked at her one last time.

"And watch Maegor. He's grieving, even if he doesn't know it. All that pain and nowhere to put it... makes a dangerous king."

He pushed open the door and stepped into the corridor, his boots ringing sharply. Over his shoulder, he muttered, "Curse Maegor and his throne."

In the courtyard, the wind picked up, lifting Daemon's cloak as he stood beside his black steed. Rhaenyra followed behind him, her arms crossed against the cold but not the pain.