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60: The Son of Ice and Fire, Love and Heartbreak
🕑 Added 2024-09-03 08:58:15 +0000 UTCMaekar
Kingswood
Maekar did not plan this excursion into the Kingswood.
Their group rode leisurely through the dense greenery of the Kingswood, the path ahead winding and narrowing as it led them deeper into the forest. He rode at the front, taking in the landscape, while beside him, Ser Lyonel Storm kept a vigilant watch. Viserys and Daenerys rode side by side, her handmaidens trailing just a short distance behind, engaged in quiet conversation. Ser Oswell Whent followed behind them all.
Maekar couldn’t help but smile as he glanced at Ghost, his loyal direwolf walking alongside Daenerys’s horse. The direwolf had grown significantly since he had first brought him to King's Landing. Now, Ghost was almost the size of a small pony, his white fur standing out against the dark green of the forest. Despite his intimidating appearance, the direwolf was gentle with Daenerys, walking closely by her side as if protecting her from the world around them.
The clearing where the Tourney was to be held soon came into full view, a large expanse of open space where workers were busily setting up the grounds for the grand tourney. It was a hive of activity, with men shouting orders, hammering stakes, and hauling timber.
"Well, well," Viserys said, urging his horse to trot closer to Maekar. "It seems Rhaegar has spared no expense in preparing for this tourney."
He glanced at his uncle, noting the mixture of admiration and skepticism in his tone. "It is a celebration of three centuries of Targaryen rule, after all," Maekar replied, his voice steady.
He had grown closer with his uncle in the time since he arrived in the city. Viserys was a good man, noble in spirit and intent. Unlike others in the family, he harbored no hidden ambitions, no desire for power beyond his due. He had supported him in several of his mercantile endeavors, helping to secure valuable partnerships in Essos. If Viserys had been the heir to the throne, Maekar might have set aside his own ambitions entirely, confident that the realm would be in capable hands under Viserys’s rule.
The man was honorable, just, and would undoubtedly make a good king.
As they reached the edge of the clearing, he dismounted smoothly, handing his reins to a nearby servant. Ser Lyonel and Ser Oswell followed suit, assisting Daenerys’s handmaidens as they dismounted. Viserys was already on the ground, offering a hand to help Naerys down from her horse, his usual kindness evident in the gesture.
He moved to assist Daenerys, but before he could reach her, Ghost was already at her side, nudging her leg with his large, white-furred head. Daenerys smiled brightly and petted Ghost's head, her delicate fingers running through his thick fur. The direwolf, as silent as always, leaned into her touch, his red eyes half-closed in contentment.
"You’ve stolen my direwolf," Maekar said with a grin, watching the interaction with amusement.
"It’s not my fault that he likes me more," Daenerys replied playfully, her hand still gently stroking Ghost’s fur.
He helped her off the horse, and Daenerys turned her attention to Ghost once more.
He had always been keenly aware of Daenerys’s vulnerability at court. Though beloved, she had often been sheltered from the political machinations that swirled around her. He recognized early on that she would need to develop a sharper understanding of the subtleties of court life if she were to survive—and thrive.
Over the past few months, he had taken it upon himself to guide her, slowly but surely helping her break out of her shell and teaching her how to navigate the treacherous waters of court politics.
He would point out the nuances of a conversation, explaining how a simple phrase could carry hidden meaning or how a courtier’s smile could mask a dagger aimed at your back. He taught her to listen not just to the words spoken, but to the tone, the body language, and the intent behind them. He knew all too well how easy it was for someone inexperienced to be taken advantage of, and he was determined to make sure Daenerys didn’t fall into that trap.
Daenerys, for her part, had absorbed his lessons like a sponge. She had quickly grasped the importance of understanding these subtleties, and one day, she had asked him directly to continue teaching her. That request had led to them spending even more time together, their bond deepening with each passing day. He found himself enjoying her company, her eagerness to learn, and her sharp wit. Sometimes, in these quiet moments of teaching and conversation, he almost forgot that he was planning to usurp his brother and take the throne for himself. Almost.
Daenerys was starting to become his weakness, and despite knowing the danger, he couldn’t bring himself to stop it.
“This will be a grand tourney. They haven’t even finished clearing out the forest yet,” Valaena remarked, looking around at the work still to be done. The wooden structures were only skeletons at this stage, the framework of what would soon be stands, tents, and pavilions.
Maekar observed the scene with a critical eye. The outlines of the tourney grounds were beginning to take shape, but there was still much work to be done. The wooden beams stood tall and bare, waiting to be fleshed out with canvas and decorations. The clearing itself was vast, the size of several small fields, and the edges of the forest loomed close, creating a natural amphitheater of sorts.
Daenerys nodded in agreement with Valaena’s observation. “Let’s take a closer look,” she suggested.
Maekar walked at the back of the group, keeping pace with Viserys and Ser Lyonel Storm. Ahead of them, Ser Oswell and four guards escorted Daenerys and her handmaidens, with Ghost padding silently by her side.
He glanced at Lyonel, who was quietly observing the surroundings. "Lyonel," Maekar called, his voice steady, "why don't you go ahead and accompany my aunt."
Lyonel nodded without hesitation, jogging forward to join the group ahead. Maekar watched him go, thoughts swirling in his mind. He was set on making Lyonel a Kingsguard. The man was a warrior of unmatched skill, reminding him of the legendary Sir Galahad from the Arthurian legends. Maekar knew he would have to teach Lyonel to be more flexible morally, but even with that, Lyonel was a once-in-a-lifetime talent.
Viserys, who had been quiet until now, suddenly spoke, a hint of amusement in his voice. "That is definitely a Baratheon."
Maekar nodded, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Yes, I'm pretty sure he's Robert's."
Viserys turned to him, wide-eyed. "Then why is he here?" he asked, clearly puzzled.
Maekar met his gaze, his expression calm. "Because he’s the best warrior I’ve ever seen—better than Ser Arthur even."
Viserys stopped in his tracks, prompting Maekar to do the same. Viserys looked at him, concern and confusion clouding his features. "Maekar, he is the son of the man who rebelled against our house."
Maekar turned to face his uncle fully, his expression serious as he locked eyes with him. "Yes, Uncle. Let's start judging sons by their fathers' sins. I’m sure we’ll have quite a lot to talk about."
Viserys visibly recoiled, taking a step back as the weight of Maekar's words hit him. He looked down at the ground, a flush of shame creeping up his neck as memories of his own father surfaced.
"I apologize," Viserys said quietly, his voice tinged with regret. "Perhaps I was too hasty."
Maekar’s expression softened as he saw the conflict in his uncle's eyes. "I apologize as well," Maekar replied, his tone sincere, "for bringing up Aerys."
He took a moment, glancing ahead at Lyonel, who was now walking alongside Daenerys. "He doesn’t even know about Robert or that he is a Baratheon. I only confirmed it after I found out Stannis Baratheon sends regular stipends to his mother. Lyonel believes his father died bravely fighting in the rebellion."
Viserys, still visibly shaken, looked at Maekar with newfound understanding. "Is he truly that good? Comparing him to Ser Arthur?"
Maekar nodded, his gaze unwavering. "He is. I plan to make him Kingsguard."
Viserys's eyes narrowed slightly, his thoughts clearly shifting as he heard the word "king." His expression turned more serious. "Ah, King… that reminds me," Viserys said, lowering his voice. "It’s good that we are alone now."
Maekar raised an eyebrow, studying Viserys’s face. The shift in his uncle's demeanor told him that this conversation was about to take a more serious turn.
Viserys took a deep breath. "My mother used to tell me stories about how great a king Rhaegar would be. She believed it with all her heart, and so did I. I looked up to him, idolized him. But over the years, I watched as Rhaegar never lived up to that promise. The divisions in the kingdoms continued, and Rhaegar… he remained only slightly better than our father, Aerys."
Maekar listened intently as Viserys continued.
"Did you know, Maekar," Viserys went on, "that I returned to the Red Keep ten years ago? Mother had taken Daenerys and me to Dragonstone because she hated the city and the keep all the scheming and plotting. But I wanted to be with Rhaegar, to help him in any way I could."
"Why did you return to the island?" Maekar asked, curious about what had drawn Viserys back.
Viserys’s voice grew somber as he replied, "When I got here, I realized Rhaegar was not the great king our mother hoped him to be. He was too focused on other things—prophecies, his own obsessions. Others ruled for him, and the realm was left to rot. Just like father.”
“Some lords hated him, Maekar. They despised him, and some even approached me, suggesting I should rebel, to usurp him."
Maekar's eyes widened in surprise at the revelation.
Viserys shook his head, a bitter smile playing on his lips. "I hated being in the city. I despised Rhaegar’s inability to take control, to be the king he was supposed to be. And I couldn’t stand how he treated Aegon. The boy had no joy in his life, no freedom.”
Perhaps that’s why he is the way he is now," Viserys muttered, almost to himself.
He paused, his gaze distant as if reliving those memories. "I understood then why our mother didn’t want us in the city. When she died, I left. I returned to Dragonstone and never looked back.”
“There was a scheme to marry me to the Princess of Dorne, but fate had other plans. It led me to meet Allyria," he said, a small, genuine smile appearing on his face at the mention of his wife.
"Where are you going with this, Uncle?" Maekar asked, his voice gentle but probing.
"I know when a court is taking sides, preparing for a conflict. I saw it when some tried to turn me against Rhaegar. The same undercurrents, the same whispers in the shadows."
Maekar's eyes narrowed at his uncle’s words, the implications clear and unsettling.
"And now," Viserys finished, "it seems my niece and nephew are plotting to usurp the Crown Prince."
"That is a bold accusation, Uncle," Maekar replied, his tone careful, though there was a sharp edge to it.
Viserys chuckled, a sound that was both amused and bitter. "I was approached as well, you know. Once again, as another choice, other than you three," he said, clearly entertained by the thought.
This revelation took Maekar by surprise. He hadn’t expected that his uncle might be seen as a contender in this growing struggle. The idea unsettled him.
"Why?" Viserys asked suddenly, his gaze piercing. "Why are you doing this, Maekar?"
Maekar hesitated for a moment, then decided on the truth—or at least part of it. "To tell the truth, Uncle… because I feel I am better," Maekar said, his voice firm.
"That's it?" Viserys asked, searching Maekar’s eyes for more.
"Yes," Maekar replied, meeting his gaze steadily.
"No plot for revenge for the rebellion? Not a pawn of your uncle or Lord Arryn?" Viserys pressed.
Maekar laughed, the sound sudden and genuine, catching Viserys off guard. "No, Uncle, not a pawn. If anything, I'm the one moving the pieces. I even had to convince uncle Brandon of my plans.”
“He had no plots against our family. He was content to see me married to a northern lady and stay in the North."
Viserys frowned, still not entirely convinced. "Then why, Maekar? Why are you doing this?"
Maekar tilted his head slightly, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Let me ask you a question, Uncle. Do you think Aegon will be a better king?"
Viserys hesitated. "With the right guidance..."
Maekar interrupted with another laugh. "Come now, Uncle. Aegon before he was taken by Euron, perhaps. But the man I rescued from Skagos is not fit to be king, and you know it as well."
Viserys’s resolve wavered. "You can't know that for sure."
"I am the only one who knows it, or I am the only one with the will to act on it," Maekar replied firmly.
Viserys remained silent for a moment, the weight of Maekar’s words sinking in. Finally, he spoke, his voice heavy with resignation. "I want no part in this conflict, Maekar. Neither does my wife, nor does Daenerys."
Maekar nodded, understanding his uncle's position. "I respect that, Uncle."
Viserys sighed heavily, as if the weight of the world rested on his shoulders. "That being said," he continued, "I do not know what my niece Rhaenys is planning, but if you get her on your side, your path to the throne will be easier."
"I’ve been trying," Maekar admitted.
"You’ve also made powerful enemies," Viserys pointed out.
"The Reach and the West," Maekar acknowledged. "I have plans for the West..."
"No, I meant Lord Qoherys," Viserys interjected.
Maekar’s expression darkened slightly as he considered his uncle’s words. He had decided long ago to keep a close eye on Quenton Qoherys, knowing full well that the man was playing all three sides—Aegon’s, Rhaenys’s, and his own. Maekar had thought it would be easier to have Quenton against him than to keep him close, but the situation was becoming more complicated.
"Quenton has been making his displeasure known about being excluded from your plans for the trade fleet," Viserys continued. "He’s firmly with Aegon now."
"And with Rhaenys as well," Maekar added, his tone more thoughtful than concerned.
"No, he’s with Aegon," Viserys corrected. "Quenton finds him more malleable."
Maekar shrugged, starting to walk again. "I have no worries about Quenton."
"You should, nephew," Viserys cautioned.
“I have the Vale and the North behind me, two of the most formidable regions in the realm. Among the lords of the northern Crownlands, I’ve found allies who are more than willing to back my claim. With the trade fleet and other guarantees, I’ve secured the loyalty of the lords of Blackwater Bay. In the Stormlands, houses like the Tarths, Carons, and Dondarrions, as well as some of the coastal lords, have pledged their support. I have strong ties in the Riverlands, and soon... I have plans that will see the entire West come under my influence."
He paused for a moment, letting the weight of his words sink in before continuing. "And let’s not forget King's Landing itself. I have control of the city through the Goldcloaks, who are loyal to me. Aegon may hold the title of Crown Prince, but he will not hold the city when the time comes. The streets, the walls, the gates—they will answer to me, not him."
Viserys's eyes widened as he absorbed the scope of Maekar’s alliances.
Maekar stopped walking and looked at his uncle, a faint smile on his lips. "Uncle, for a man who doesn’t want to take sides, you seem very worried about me."
Viserys sighed again, his eyes filled with concern. "I don’t want to see you…” he paused.”Maekar. You’re playing a dangerous game, and the pieces you move aren’t just yours to command. They have their own agendas, their own ambitions."
"I know, Uncle," Maekar replied softly. "I am set in my plans and have no intention of stopping."
Viserys nodded, though his worry remained evident. "Just be careful, nephew. The crown is heavy, and those who seek it often find themselves crushed beneath its weight."
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They made their way to where Daenerys and the others were gathered, hearing the sound of soft conversation and the occasional laugh drifting through the air as they approached. They noticed the group huddled around something on the ground.
"What’s going on here?" Maekar asked as he and Viserys drew closer, curiosity piqued.
Daenerys, who was speaking with the overseer of the construction, turned toward them, her bright smile causing Maekar’s heart to flutter unexpectedly. She held a delicate purple flower in her hands, the petals shimmering slightly in the dappled sunlight filtering through the trees.
"Look at this, Maekar!" Daenerys said excitedly, holding the flower up for him to see.
The flower was unlike anything he had ever seen. Its petals were a deep, vibrant purple, almost velvety in texture, with a subtle gradient that shifted to a lighter lavender toward the edges. The center of the flower was a striking gold, with tiny filaments that seemed to glow softly.
Ser Oswell, who had been standing near Daenerys, spoke up. "The princess has found herself a rare bloom, my prince. This flower, known as the Moonshadow, only grows in the Crownlands and is said to bloom just once every twenty years."
"Yes, apparently today is the day," Daenerys added, her excitement evident.
"William here," she gestured to the overseer beside her, "was just telling me where to find more of these beautiful flowers."
Maekar's eyes gleamed. "Oh, a hunt for flowers, then? Let’s see who can pick the most for the most beautiful princess in the realm."
Daenerys blushed at his words, her cheeks tinged with a soft pink that only made her more radiant. Ser Oswell, Viserys, and Lyonel all agreed to the impromptu challenge with enthusiastic nods.
"And I shall search with the princess herself," Maekar declared, quickly stepping onto the path where William had pointed, Daenerys giggling at his eagerness.
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They wandered through the woods with Ghost following behind them. They moved slowly, their eyes scanning the forest floor for the elusive Moonshadow. Every so often, Daenerys would let out a delighted gasp as she spotted another flower, and they would crouch down together to pick it, carefully adding it to the growing collection in her hands.
Ghost would do his part and spot some as well, getting praise from Daenerys.
"My fierce direwolf turned into a flower picker," Maekar remarked, a playful smile on his lips.
“He is the most wonderful thing in the world,” Daenerys said as she took a flower offered by Ghost again.
Maekar looked at the flowers in her hands. "Perhaps you should make me a crown with these flowers."
Daenerys laughed softly, the sound like music to Maekar's ears. "A crown? Isn’t it supposed to be the other way around? Aren’t I the one who should be given a crown?"
Maekar grinned, leaning in slightly as he held up a particularly large Moonshadow. "Make one with these, and I shall crown you," he said, his tone teasing yet sincere.
Daenerys blushed, her cheeks warming as she shyly looked away. "You do know how to charm a lady, Maekar."
They continued searching for the flowers, their banter light and easy as they enjoyed each other's company. It was a rare moment of peace for him.
"I'll be going to Driftmark soon, and I plan to visit Dragonstone as well," Maekar mentioned as they searched.
Daenerys halted, turning to face him, her expression suddenly serious and filled with longing. "Maekar, take me with you. The keep is becoming so dull, and I long to see Dragonstone again," she said earnestly.
"You truly wish to come along?" he asked, a soft smile forming on his lips.
She nodded eagerly, her violet eyes shining with excitement.“Yes, Take me on an adventure."
Maekar looked at her, surprised by the earnestness in her voice. "An adventure, you say?" He paused, considering her request, then smiled warmly. "If it's an adventure you want, Dany, then I shall make it one you will never forget."
Her face lit up with happiness, and before he could react, Daenerys threw her arms around him, hugging him tightly. He was taken aback for a moment, but then he wrapped his arms around her, holding her close.
When Daenerys finally pulled back, they found themselves staring into each other’s eyes. The world around them seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them. Maekar felt a pull in his chest, a connection that seemed to bridge the gap between them as they slowly began to lean in, their faces drawing closer together.
But just as their lips were about to meet, a voice rang out from behind them. "Daenerys! Where are you?"
It was Valaena; her call broke the spell between them. They quickly looked away from each other, both of them feeling disappointment.
"We should head back," Maekar said, his voice slightly strained as he turned to lead the way back to the clearing.
"Yes, we should," Daenerys stammered.
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Maekar
Red Keep
“My prince, Princess Arianne will be here this afternoon," Basil said.
After returning from the excursion with Viserys and Daenerys, Maekar had retired to his chambers. He had asked Princess Arianne to meet with him to discuss a possible alliance with the Martells regarding the pirates in the Stepstones. He could not move ahead with his plans for the trade fleet without first removing those pests from the island chains.
He acknowledged Basil's words with a nod, taking a seat at his desk. "Thank you, Basil," he replied.
Moments later, the doors to the chamber swung open. Ser Oswell stepped forward to announce the visitor, but the person did not wait for formalities. Princess Arianne strutted forward, walking past the Kingsguard, who, at Maekar’s nod, returned to his post outside.
Arianne was dressed in a gown that could only be described as daring. The fabric was a deep, rich purple that clung to her voluptuous body like a second skin. The neckline plunged low, revealing an ample amount of cleavage, and the cut of the dress accentuated every curve of her figure. Her hips swayed slightly as she walked into the room, and the slit up the side of the gown revealed a long, toned leg with every step.
Maekar remained composed. His eyes roamed over her body, taking in every detail with a calm but appreciative gaze. "Princess Arianne, I did not expect you to be so early," he said smoothly, his tone revealing nothing of the effect her entrance might have had on him.
Arianne’s lips curled into a playful pout as she crossed the room. "Is that all, Prince Maekar? Nothing else?" she teased. She let out a playful sigh before seating herself on the long, plush couch by the window.
"You may leave, Basil," Maekar said. Basil bowed and quickly left the room.
He allowed a small smile to play on his lips. "Well, now that you are here, Princess, can you help with the pirates? Is the Martell fleet prepared for an assault on the pirates?"
Arianne’s tone shifted to a more serious note. "The fleet is almost fully recovered. We’re eager to deal with the pirates as well. They’ve disrupted trade in Sunspear for two years now."
Maekar nodded, his gaze still lingering on Arianne. "I’ll speak with my father about deploying the royal fleet. It’s a matter that can’t be delayed any longer."
Arianne nodded.
A silence enveloped them and Maekar quickly broke it.
"Isn’t it a bit early to be dressed for the feast?" he asked, his eyes roaming over her attire.
Arianne smiled, a hint of amusement dancing in her eyes. "Ah, the feast. I won’t be attending."
Maekar raised an eyebrow, feigning disappointment. "Too bad. I’ve been looking forward to it."
"Why?" Arianne asked, genuinely curious about the reason behind his words.
Maekar allowed a brief pause before responding, a faint smile playing on his lips. "I made a promise to Joffrey Lannister, and I intend to keep it."
Arianne’s brow furrowed slightly, confusion evident in her expression. She opened her mouth to question him further, but Maekar smoothly changed the subject before she could delve deeper.
"So, what is my sister doing these days? I haven't seen her since Castle Hayford."
Arianne's lips curved into a teasing smile. "Planning the feast for today and, oh… I believe she’s hiding from you," Arianne replied.
Maekar’s smile mirrored hers. "Oh, she’s hiding from me, is she?" he asked playfully, his eyes still intently focused on her.
Arianne held his gaze, her expression daring. Then, slowly and deliberately, she parted her legs, revealing the dark, inviting folds of her cunt. It was a thing of beauty framed by the smooth, dusky skin of her thighs. The lips were full and dark, the same rich hue as her skin, glistening with the first signs of her arousal. She was completely shaved, not a single hair to obscure the view.
Maekar's gaze lingered for a moment before he looked back up at her, his expression unreadable, a mix of amusement and something darker. Ariane bit her lower lip, her eyes never leaving Maekar's face as she deliberately taunted him with her exposed flesh.
Maekar stood up, his towering figure casting a shadow over Arianne as he approached her. She mirrored his movement, rising from the couch to stand before him, her eyes locked onto his. He could feel the heat radiating from her body, the scent of her arousal filling the air.
"What do you want, Arianne?" he asked, his voice a low rumble, barely concealing the desire that threatened to consume him.
Arianne's lips curved into a wicked smile, her eyes gleaming with lust. "You know what I want, Maekar," she purred. "I want you."
He could feel his cock stirring, hardening at the thought of taking her, of burying himself deep within her inviting depths. But he hesitated, a war raging within him between duty and desire.
Arianne’s playful demeanor shifted, her eyes darkening with a rare seriousness. She leaned forward slightly, her voice soft yet laced with intensity. "Maekar, I’ve been with many men, but none of them have ever made me feel the way you do." Her gaze held his, unwavering. "I’m drawn to you like I’ve never been with anyone before. I don’t just want you for a night; I want you by my side.”
"Imagine it—you could marry me and become the Prince of Dorne."
Maekar was momentarily taken aback by Arianne's boldness. He hadn’t expected this—such a direct proposal from her.
Arianne watched him closely, her expression a mixture of anticipation and resolve. She was waiting for his response, her heart clearly set on the possibility she had just laid before him.
Maekar finally found his voice, though his tone was measured, gentle yet firm. "Arianne, you are a beautiful woman, and any man would be fortunate to have you." He paused, choosing his next words carefully. "I would love to have you as well, but…"
Her eyes flickered with hope at his words, but the hesitation in his voice spoke volumes, more than any declaration could.
"But," he continued, "I have plans for something greater."
Arianne’s gaze narrowed slightly, her determination unshaken. "I can be part of that, Maekar. We could do it together. I can be by your side."
Before she could continue, they were interrupted by a voice from the doorway.
"Maekar?"
The sound of her name caught him off guard, and he turned to see Daenerys standing in the doorway. She was a vision in a beautiful silver dress, the very one he had bought for her. The fabric shimmered in the light, hugging her slender frame perfectly, and in her hands, she held a crown of flowers, the very one she had promised to make for him. Her violet eyes were wide with surprise as she took in the scene before her.
"Oh… you are with someone," Daenerys said softly, a hint of embarrassment coloring her voice as she began to turn to leave.
"No, no, Dany, we were just finished," Maekar quickly assured her, rising from his chair.
Arianne’s gaze shifted from Daenerys to Maekar, her expression darkening with jealousy. Her eyes locked onto Daenerys for a brief moment before she looked back at Maekar, her disappointment evident.
Without another word, Arianne turned and walked out of the room, leaving Maekar and Daenerys alone.
Daenerys stood there, looking at him with a confused expression, clearly unsure of what had just transpired.
"Come inside, Dany," Maekar said, his voice calming. "Arianne and I were just discussing matters on pirates in the Stepstones."
Daenerys entered the room, her smile returning as she held up the crown of moonshadow flowers in her hands. "I made the crown," she said, her tone light and proud.
Maekar’s expression softened as he took the crown from her hands, the delicate flowers intricately woven together. "And you promised me something," she reminded him playfully.
With a gentle smile, Maekar carefully placed the crown on her head, adjusting it slightly to sit perfectly. "There," he said, stepping back to admire his handiwork. "Next time, I’ll crown you at the tourney after I win the joust."
Daenerys blushed, the color rising in her cheeks as she looked up at him. "I’ll look forward to it," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper, before turning to leave, her face still flushed with warmth.
Maekar watched her go, as he considered the feelings stirring within him, ones he could no longer ignore.
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Alright here is the new and improved chapter 60.
