o. chapter seven

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CHAPTER SEVEN

Maegelle couldn't even stare at her uncle during breakfast

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Maegelle couldn't even stare at her uncle during breakfast. She could still remember the way her sheets were filled with her fluid while thinking about him. The man has bewitched her, and now he lives in her mind without charge. "How about you, Princess? Were you able to sleep last night?" her uncle questioned with a soft frown and she nods her head, trying to look away from him. 

If he stared at her any longer, she would've melted. "Yes, the sleep was quite pleasant." she lied and his attention turned towards other things. "I'm sure that you had enough time to think about your future," her father presented as if he was talking to a small child. Maegelle's mood dimmed, and the atmosphere slowly turned awkward. 

"You spent a lot of time with Lord Tyland yesterday. Was he enough?" Viserys questioned and the woman bit back a laugh. Tyland was crazy and his methods were for the ill-minded. Never in a thousand years would he be enough for a woman like her. "I'm afraid not," she replied with no second-thinking. 

"And marrying a lord with his own land would not prove good for us - I'm already torn between Kingslanding and Winterfell." Maegelle reasons, she couldn't have her father believe that she made the entire affair longer for no reason. She wanted to scold her father for his insensitivity. It was just a year since her husband died - and now he was pawning her off. 

King Viserys nods his head. "So you need a second-son?" Daemon chimed in while holding a small goblet on his right hand. Her eyes drift on the table again, her hands fiddling with the edges of the table-cloth. She was thankful that Jaehaerys wasn't here to witness this conversation. "Well - yes" she answers truthfully, but she was praying to the gods that he wouldn't present himself as a match.

"Ser Otto Hightower is a second-son. He already lives in Kingslanding." Viserys replied plainly, trying to find reasons in letting his daughter stay. Daemon laughs loudly - not caring for decorum. Rhaenyra rolls her eyes at her uncles antics, while also taking a sip of her wine. "I apologize brother." Daemon chuckles, trying to wipe the laughing tears from his eyes. 

"Your daughter is a goddess - and you would have her marry a house-pet?" he jested, earning a small giggle from Rhaenyra. Viserys' face turned sour as he exchanged a stare with his oldest daughter, deep in her eyes he could see that she agreed with Daemon. "We don't have a choice. Maegelle has already turned half of the realm away" the King argued, finding hopelessness in the situation. He fears that Maegelle has offended the realm with her disregard in marriage. 

"It's alright father, I'm sure that we'll find someone." she soothed, placing a hand on his forearm. When her children had tantrums, this was what she'd always do. "Marriage shouldn't be rushed, and I plan on taking my sweet time." she adds and Viserys releases a deep breath. 

The King was stressed.

——

She was camping in her father's solars again. The little back and forth during breakfast did nothing to stop the men from attempting to court her. Thus, she was here again - hiding and hoping that they'd all disappear. "Issa hāedar. (My girl)" Daemon enters the small room and her head peers through the small gap on the curtains. "Kepus." she replied with the same vigor. 

He took his boots off, laying them on the top of the stairs. His foot gently landing on the carpet. He could sense her fear of marriage - he almost felt guilty for antagonizing his brother. "Marriage is stupid." he opens the conversation, this time - he was holding a basket filled with oranges. Maegelle laughs bitterly at his statement. "You know nothing about marriage, my prince." she answered with a small smirk, watching as his figure began to sit down beside her. 

"When done with someone who respects you. It becomes beautiful." she enunciates, still missing the years in Winterfell. Daemon's lips turned into a thin line. Marriage had to be done for duty. "I wonder what food they fed you up North. It's turned you into an idealistic little girl." he joked, handing her a small orange. 

The fruit came from Highgarden - he flew from dragonback just to get it. 

She takes it from his hand, muttering a soft thanks before beginning to peel its edges. "Your father's suggestions are not born of nothing. Surely, this is Ser Otto's doing." he manipulated the conversation, his eyes twinkling at the next words that would exit his mouth. "You need to be engaged - he needs to be stopped." he dallied around the topic, and she raises an eyebrow. 

Her hands reach for the basket, placing all of the orange-peels back. "Engaged to whom?" she inquired, not understanding his point. His eyes narrowed, finding her cluelessness adorable. "Sȳz riñītsos, (good little girl)" he mumbled underneath his breath, also throwing his orange-peels back on the basket. "What is it?" she inquired further and he leans his back into the wall. 

"Be engaged to me," he proposed with a smug grin, and she rolls her eyes. "Are you drunk?" she replied taking a piece of the orange and popping it in her mouth. "Darling, I do not seek for your hand in marriage. Simply pretend to be enamored with me, until you find someone else." he explained and she takes a deep breath, sucking on the orange in her mouth. 

His proposal made sense. 

She frowns quickly. He wouldn't do anything without something in exchange. "What's the catch?" she questioned colloquially and his smug smirk began to return. "I want a kiss," he whispered and her eyes widened. 'That didn't make sense' she thought, moving her face a few inches away from him. "A kiss?" she repeated and he begins to nod. "A simple kiss." he confirmed. "Why?" she inquired and he shrugs. 

"I want to taste you," he answered darkly, his voice sending waves of lust back into her. 'Fuck' she cursed herself. But she couldn't deny it. She's thought about this for a while. 

She wipes her orange-filled hands on a towel, before releasing a deep exhale. "Sure," she agreed mirroring his smirk and he smiles. "Come closer," he demanded cupping her cheeks and coating her face with orange-zest. "Is it more of a small kiss or?" she questioned and he shrugs.

"I don't plan things - I drink and things happen." he replies, seeing the distance between their lips beginning to thin. He pushes her head closer - allowing their lips to become one. 

There was fire in it, a spark that renewed both of their souls. Daemon's hand began to creep down her neck, eliciting a gasp from her - and letting his tongue enter her mouth. This was a dragon's life. It was filled with multitudes of schemes, and dozens of thrill. 

A gasp emerges a few feet away from them, and she pulls away. It was Ser Harold. 

But before any of them could stand up, the man was already sprinting towards the exit. 

"You are most welcome," that was all Daemon could muster out. 

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