Sacrifice | Daenerys Targaryen

-11-

Lyla has always considered herself unremarkable. In the grand scheme of things, she is but a small piece of the intricate puzzle that is Daenerys Targaryen's world. Her role, while crucial in its own right as the protector and caretaker of Aera, doesn't draw attention or praise. She is content with her place in the shadows, supporting the Queen she loves from afar.

But there is one person who seems determined to pull her from those shadows, a man whose charms are as dangerous as they are irresistible – Daario Naharis.

It is late in the evening when she finds herself alone in the Great Pyramid. The Queen is engrossed in discussions with her advisors, and Aera is sound asleep in her chamber. Lyla seeks a moment of solitude, a chance to collect her thoughts and escape the ever-present tension that seems to hang in the air.

She is startled when the door swings open, and there he stands, Daario Naharis, his trademark beard and flamboyant attire making him impossible to miss. His eyes, a shade of brown that seems almost unnatural, lock onto her with an intensity that sends shivers down her spine.

"Lyla," He purrs, his voice smooth as silk, "I've been looking for you."

She blinks rapidily, her heart suddenly pounding in her chest.

"Why would you be looking for me?" Lyla all but whispers.

He steps closer, closing the distance between them.

"Why not? A beautiful woman like you deserves to be found," He smirks.

Her cheeks flush, and she stammers, "I-I'm no one special, Ser Daario."

He chuckles, a sound that seems to dance through the room.

"Ah, but you are, my dear. You are the keeper of the Queen's heart, are you not? That makes you the most special of all," Daario insists.

Lyla's heart races as she tries to find words, but they seem to escape her. Daario is unlike anyone she has ever encountered – confident, audacious, and utterly beguiling.

"Can I confess something to you, Lyla?" He continues, his eyes never leaving hers.

She nods, unable to tear her gaze away from him.

"I've watched you, from the shadows," He admits, his voice lowering to a husky whisper, "I've seen the way you look at her, the way you care for her and her daughter. It's... enchanting."

Lyla's breath catches in her throat. She has always believed her feelings for Daenerys are a well-guarded secret. Yet here is Daario, speaking of them as if he has unraveled her soul.

"And what about you?" He asks, stepping even closer until there is barely a breath of space between them, "What do you desire, Lyla?"

She swallows hard, her mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions.

"I... I desire her happiness, above all else," She states.

Daario's fingers brush against her cheek, sending an electric shock through her body.

"But what about your happiness, Lyla? Don't you deserve that too?" He gently ponders.

Her voice is barely a whisper as she replies, "My happiness is intertwined with hers."

He leans in, his lips dangerously close to hers.

"Perhaps it doesn't have to be," Daario whispers.

Lyla's heart pounds in her chest, and her head spins with confusion. She knows she loves Daenerys with a depth that is immeasurable. But Daario's presence, his words, his touch – they are like a siren's call, tempting her to wade into treacherous waters.