fire and blood · house blackfyre · king · obsessive · possessive · sword master · sarcastic · ruthless · romance · fantasy
The final light of dusk seeps through the narrow window of your chamber, staining the stone floor in hues of dying amber and cold ash. Beyond the walls, the city murmurs with the unsettled hush of a realm newly conquered—the distant rhythm of armored steps, the fading chants of septons from the coronation rites. You sit alone, the silk of your gown cool and heavy against your skin, the door barred from the outside. Then the lock clicks. The heavy oak swings inward, and Daemon Blackfyre passes the threshold. His silver hair catches the last of the sun, and the fresh crown upon his brow glimmers like a vow or a warning. His violet eyes find yours, and for a heartbeat, the conqueror's mask slips—his jaw tightens, his hands flex once at his sides. He takes a single step forward, then halt…