121 A.C
~Driftmark~

... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ..

The chamber was cloaked in a heavy silence, the only sound the rhythmic breathing of the two boys beside her. Lucerys had fallen asleep quickly, curled on his side with his hand still half-reaching for where Daenys had been moments ago. Jacaerys, too, his chest rising and falling in the steady, exhausted pattern of dreamless sleep.

But Daenys couldn't rest.

She tossed under the thick blankets, turning from side to side. Each time she closed her eyes, the shifting shadows cast by the moonlight leaking through the window seemed to twist and move along the walls. Horrid shapes loomed: great beasts with gnashing teeth, slithering serpents made from nothing but her imagination.

She pulled the covers up to her chin, but it didn't help.

A soft whimper escaped her lips before she could stop it. She sat up, her small back pressed tightly against the carved headboard, clutching her flower book to her chest like it might shield her from the darkness. Her wide, violet eyes darted around the room as the faint outlines of furniture became grotesque creatures under the silver moonlight.

She squeezed her eyes shut tightly, willing herself not to cry, not to whimper again.

And then—

"Daenys?"

The voice was thick with sleep, confused and worried.

Her eyes flew open. She turned her head to see Jace sitting up, rubbing the heel of his palm into his eye, blinking against the shadows.

In the dimness, she could see the way he frowned, noticing her sitting upright and tense.

Daenys gulped, her throat tight. She twisted the fabric of her nightdress nervously between her fingers and whispered hoarsely, "I'm... I'm sorry..."

Jace leaned closer, careful not to wake Luke who still slept soundly between them. His brown eyes blinked at her with patient confusion.

Daenys took a deep, shaky breath and admitted in a broken whisper, "I usually sleep with a candle lit... in my chamber... at the Red Keep. I—I don't like the darkness..."

For a moment, Jace didn't say anything.

Then, a slow, understanding smile spread across his face — though she couldn't quite see it in the darkness. Without a word, he swung his legs off the bed and padded barefoot across the stone floor toward the writing desk in the corner, where an unused candle sat.

Daenys watched him with silent awe, her book still pressed tightly to her chest.

She heard the faint clink of flint striking against steel, and after a few moments of soft scratching sounds, a warm golden flame bloomed to life, throwing gentle light across the room. The ugly monsters on the walls shrank away, chased into the corners by the simple power of fire.

The tiny candle flame flickered, casting a soft, soothing glow.

Jace carried the candle back carefully, placing it on the small bedside table beside Daenys's side of the bed. He gave her a small nod, his hair messy, his movements still heavy with sleep.

Daenys's heart squeezed in her chest. Her lips trembled, but she smiled through it and whispered, "Thank you..." with all the sweetness in her little soul.

Jace nodded again, this time offering her a half-smile as he returned to the bed. He climbed back under the covers on his side, facing away again to give her space.

Daenys watched the little flame dance for a few moments longer, feeling the tight knot in her chest slowly loosen.

Gently, she placed her precious flower book on the nightstand beside the candle, close enough that its pages seemed to catch the golden glow too. Then she snuggled down beneath the heavy covers, the light warming her small frame, her eyelids growing heavier by the second.

With the safe flicker of the candle by her side, and the soft breathing of her best friends near her, Daenys finally let herself drift into a deep, peaceful sleep.

... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ..

Late into the night, the stillness of the guest chamber shattered when Jace was violently shaken awake.

"Jace, Jace. Jace, wake up! Wake up!"

He blinked rapidly, disoriented, his hand instinctively reaching out. The shapes of Baela and Rhaena materialized next to the bed, both girls wide-eyed and panicked, still in their nightclothes.

"Someone stole Vhagar," Baela whispered, her voice trembling with fury.

Jace sat up, his heart pounding. "What?" he gasped, still not understanding.

The noise had woken Lucerys and Daenys too. Luke rubbed his eyes sleepily while Daenys hugged her flower book to her chest, confused.

"What's happening?" Daenys whispered.

But no one answered — there was no time.

The five children crept through the dark stone corridors of Driftmark Castle, barefoot and shivering in the cold sea air.

Luke clung tightly to both Jace's hand and Daenys's small one. "Jace... what are we doing?" Luke mumbled fearfully.

Jace only pressed his brother's hand tighter, determination fueling his every step.

They finally reached the entrance of the caves near the beach, where the salt air was thick and sharp.

From the shadows, a figure emerged — tall and confident, walking toward them with a smirk.

"It's him!" Jace snapped.

Aemond stepped fully into the moonlight, his white hair tousled, his chest puffed up with pride. "It's me," he said, smug.

Daenys gasped, her violet eyes wide. "Aemond?" she whispered, stunned. She took a step forward, her hand reaching out toward him.

Aemond's eyes flickered, seeing her for the first time — but he said nothing. His smirk only widened.

Baela's voice rang out, furious. "Vhagar is my mother's dragon!"

Aemond turned to her coolly. "Your mother's dead." He took a step closer. "And Vhagar has a new rider now."

Rhaena's hands clenched into tiny fists. "She was mine to claim!" she shouted.

Aemond sneered, venom in his voice. "Then you should've claimed her!" He tilted his head mockingly. "Maybe your cousins can find you a pig to ride. It would suit you."

Daenys frowned, her heart squeezing painfully. "Aemond, stop..." she whispered, stepping forward again, desperate.

She reached out her hand toward him — but Aemond shoved her aside roughly.

Daenys cried out as she hit the sand hard, the breath knocked out of her small body.

"Daenys!" Luke yelled, fury igniting inside him.

Without thinking, Luke lunged at Aemond, followed by Baela, Rhaena, and Jace.

The fight exploded into chaos — fists flying, sand kicking up around them.

"Stop! Please! Stop!" Daenys sobbed from the ground, tears streaming down her face, but they couldn't hear her over the screaming and shouting.

Aemond shook them off violently. He pulled away, breathing hard, his face twisted with rage.

"Come at me again, and I'll feed you to my dragon!" he roared.

Jace shouted back and landed a hard punch across Aemond's jaw.

Aemond shoved him down easily and turned to Luke — grabbing him by the throat and lifting him off the ground slightly.

Luke gasped and struggled as Aemond snarled into his face, "You will die screaming in flames just as your father did, bastards!"

Tears sprang to Luke's eyes. "My father's still alive!" he cried.

Aemond laughed cruelly. "He doesn't know, does he?" he taunted looking at Jacaerys, voice dripping with hate. "Lord Strong."

Jace, furious beyond words, pulled a dagger from his belt.

Daenys, sitting up in the sand, sobbed harder, dragging herself forward. "Stop! Please, stop this!" she begged through choked cries.

For a second, Aemond froze — his gaze meeting Daenys's tearful one. His features softened just slightly, recognition flashing.

But then his face hardened once more.

He turned and shoved her violently — Daenys's small body slammed against the rough stone wall of the cave with a sickening crack. She slumped to the dirt, blood beginning to trickle down her temple.

"DAENYS!" Luke screamed, managing to wrench free from Aemond's grasp.

Jace lunged at Aemond, their bodies slamming into the sand. Jace's dagger slipped from his hand, falling nearby.

Aemond grabbed a heavy rock, raising it above his head as he approached.

Jace, desperate, blew a fistful of sand into Aemond's eyes, blinding him momentarily.

Luke seized the moment — he scrambled, grabbing the dagger, and with a shaking hand, he slashed across Aemond's face.

Blood gushed from Aemond's eye. He screamed — a wail of pure agony and rage that echoed against the stone walls.

Luke stood frozen in horror, the dagger falling from his hand.

He turned and stumbled back to Daenys, who lay motionless on the ground, her delicate face bloodied and pale.

"Nyssi... Nyssi, wake up... please..." Luke sobbed, sinking to his knees and taking her cold hand in his.

Jace, Baela, and Rhaena gathered around them, silent and trembling.

Guards arrived moments later, their armor clanking loudly as they flooded the cave.

"Cease this at once!" commanded Ser Harrold Westerling, shoving the children apart.

"Get away!" another guard barked, trying to separate them.

Ser Harrold knelt by Aemond, whose face was covered in blood, one hand clutching his destroyed eye.

"My Prince, my Prince, let me see," Harrold said urgently.

Aemond's hand trembled as he removed it, revealing the gruesome wound.

"Gods be good," Ser Harrold breathed, blanching at the sight.

Meanwhile, another guard spotted Daenys's small body lying in the dirt.

"Ser! Over here!" the man called.

He rushed over, finding Luke crying hysterically, still clutching Daenys's limp hand.

"My prince? What happened with her?" the guard asked gently, horror dawning in his eyes.

Luke shook his head frantically, unable to speak through his sobs.

Jace, his face hard and pale, came to stand protectively over them. Baela and Rhaena hovered close behind, shivering.

Baela muttered brokenly, "Aemond pushed her..."

The guard cursed under his breath and carefully lifted Daenys's body into his arms, blood staining her pale hair and green gown.

The guards ushered all the children back toward the castle, some carrying the wounded.

The night air felt heavier than ever, thick with blood and sorrow, as they headed grimly to the Great Hall of Driftmark.

Their childhood, in many ways, had ended that night.

... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ..

The Great Hall of Driftmark was filled with tension, the storm outside nothing compared to the storm inside.

The torches flickered low against the salt-stained stone. Daenys lay unconscious, slumped carefully in a cushioned chair, her small body limp, a thick white bandage sewn across her temple, a hint of dried blood staining her silver-gold hair. Her breathing was soft, shallow.

Next to her sat Aemond, upright but pale, his face a mask of pain. One eye was still intact; the other was crudely bandaged, blood still weeping slowly through the stitching that Maester Kelvyn had just finished. His jaw was clenched, his hands gripping the arms of the chair with white knuckles.

Across the hall, Aegon and Aenora stood by the fireplace, stiff and uncomfortable, refusing to meet anyone's gaze.

By the far wall, Jacaerys and Lucerys huddled together tightly, still shaking, whispering quietly. Their eyes flicked constantly to Daenys. Baela and Rhaena stood with them, still in their nightgowns, hair windswept and faces swollen from crying.

And at the center, upon the Driftwood Throne, King Viserys, aged and frail, his crown crooked, face pale with fury, slammed his cane against the floor.

"How could you allow such a thing to happen?" he thundered. His voice cracked with age, but the anger was sharp as a blade. "I will have answers."

Ser Harrold Westerling, head of the Kingsguard, stepped forward, bowing his head humbly. "The princes were supposed to be abed, Your Grace..."

Viserys's eyes flared with disbelief. "Who had the watch?!" he demanded.

Before Harrold could answer, Ser Criston Cole stepped forward, face cold. "The young prince was attacked by his own cousins, Your Grace, as well as by..." he hesitated, eyes flicking toward Daenys, "his own sister."

Viserys's hands trembled as he stood, his voice shaking with wrath. "You swore oaths to protect and defend my blood!"

Harrold bowed his head again, voice gentle. "And I always have, Your Grace... but the Kingsguard has never had to defend princes... from princes."

Viserys's voice cracked as he shouted again. "That is no answer!"

A tense silence fell.

Near the fireplace, Alicent Hightower was kneeling beside her children. Her hands fluttered over Aemond and Daenys, her face pinched with anguish. She turned quickly to Maester Kelvyn, who had just tied off the final stitch over Aemond's ruined eye.

"It will heal... will it not, maester?" she asked, her voice hopeful, desperate.

Kelvyn slowly packed away his bloodied tools. "The flesh will heal, Your Grace..." he said softly, "But... the eye is lost."

Alicent swallowed, tears brimming in her eyes as her gaze drifted back to Aemond. His face was blank, unmoving.

Kelvyn continued quietly, "Princess Daenys will be fine. I've stitched the wound. She may be dizzy for some time, and the scar will remain, but she will wake soon."

Alicent's shoulders sagged with relief, but it was brief. Her expression darkened with fury. She turned toward the fireplace, eyes narrowing at Aegon and Aenora.

"Where were you?!" she snapped.

The eldest siblings blinked.

"Us?" they said in unison, startled.

Without warning, Alicent's hand flew, striking Aegon hard across the cheek then doing the same to Aenora.

"Ow!" Aegon recoiled. "What was that for?!"

"That was nothing compared to the abuse your brother and sister suffered while you were drowning in your cups or doing gods-know-what!" she hissed. Her voice quivered with rage and maternal panic. "You fools."

Aenora rubbed her arm, avoiding her mother's gaze, and muttered bitterly under her breath, "Didn't know we were babysitters..."

Alicent turned sharply toward her. "What did you say?"

Aenora said nothing more, glaring down at the floor.

Meanwhile, Aemond sat still, blood drying across his cheek, refusing to cry or speak.

A flicker of movement drew all eyes, Daenys stirred, her lips parting with a faint whimper. Her brows furrowed in pain as she blinked slowly, disoriented.

"Nyssi?" Luke whispered from across the room, his voice cracking.

Daenys blinked again and turned her head sluggishly toward the sound. She saw her best friend standing with red, puffy eyes, clinging to Jace's hand.

She gave the smallest nod.

Alicent rushed to her side, kneeling. "My sweet girl, you're alright. You're alright."

The double doors of the Great Hall burst open, Corlys Velaryon and Princess Rhaenys rushing down the stairway, their cloaks billowing in their wake.

Baela and Rhaena immediately broke into sobs and ran to their grandmother. "Grandmother!" they cried in unison.

Rhaenys knelt swiftly, pulling them both into her arms, her voice urgent, shaken. "Baela, Rhaena! What happened? What happened?"

Corlys's voice boomed through the hall: "What is the meaning of this?!" His eyes roamed over the chaos—the blood, the injured, the confusion—and finally settled on Aemond, seated with one eye covered, and Daenys, pale, her face streaked with tears and bandages.

Before anyone could answer, Rhaenyra stormed into the chamber, her face pale and wild, her gown soaked from the sea air. She rushed to Jacaerys and Lucerys, falling to her knees.

"Jace? Luke!" Her voice cracked. "Show me. Show me where it hurts." She examined them both, gently brushing a finger over Luke's broken nose.

Then, more softly, like a whisper:
"Who did this to you?"

The room suddenly exploded into shouts from all sides—

"They attacked me!"
"He attacked Baela!"
"He broke Luke's nose!"
"He stole my mother's dragon!" cried Rhaena.
"He pushed Daenys!" sobbed Luke. "He wanted to kill Jace!"

Aemond, blood still drying across his cheek, shouted from his chair, "I didn't do anything!"

"Enough!" Viserys bellowed, trying to rise to his feet.

But no one listened.

"It should be my son telling the tale!" Alicent snapped, trying to regain control.

Jace, stepping forward, hissed, "He called us—"

"SILENCE!" Viserys screamed, slamming his cane to the ground. The entire hall stilled.

Jace turned to his mother, whispering, "He called us bastards."

A heavy, deathly silence settled.

Viserys slowly descended from the Driftwood Throne and approached Aemond, face grim.

"Aemond... I will have the truth of what happened. Now."

Alicent stepped in, voice sharp. "What else is there to hear? Your son and daughter have been maimed. Her sons are responsible."

"But... no—" Daenys whispered, her voice trembling, but Alicent's glare silenced her.

Alicent's glare snapped to her.
She hissed low, "Not a word."

Daenys bit her lip, tears threatening, and turned away — but not before casting a longing glance over her shoulder, seeing Luke clinging to Rhaenyra, his eyes pleading.

"It was a regrettable accident," Rhaenyra said evenly.

Alicent scoffed. "Accident? The prince Lucerys brought a blade to the ambush. He meant to kill my son. And he hurt my daughter."

Daenys broke down in tears.
"That's not true! Luke would never—"

Alicent gripped her arm. "Enough."
Daenys sobbed. "Mother, please—"

"See?" Alicent snapped, pointing to the bandage across her daughter's temple. "Look at what your grandsons have done."

Luke shook his head, eyes wide. "I didn't hurt Nyssi!"

Rhaenyra, pulling him close, whispered, "I know. I know, my sweet boy."

Then, Rhaenyra stood tall.
"It was my sons who were attacked and forced to defend themselves. Vile insults were levied against them."

Viserys narrowed his eyes. "What insults?"

Daenys tried to pull away from her mother's grasp again, her fingers stained with dried blood.
Rhaenyra held her ground. "The legitimacy of my sons' birth was put loudly to question."

Viserys stilled. "What?"

Jace spoke, head held high. "He called us bastards."

Daenys added softly, "Yes. He did."

Alicent gripped Daenys's arm tighter, leaning into her ear. "One more word from you, young lady, and you'll be severely punished. Now be silent."

Daenys winced. "Let me go!"

Alicent exhaled sharply and released her. Daenys stumbled on her feet standing beside her mother.

Rhaenyra's voice was iron. "My sons are in line to inherit the Iron Throne. This is the highest of treasons. Prince Aemond must be sharply questioned, so we might learn where he heard such slanders."

Alicent gave a bitter laugh. "Over an insult? My son has lost an eye."

Viserys turned to Aemond. "You tell me, boy. Where did you hear this lie?"

Alicent stepped in. "The insult was training yard bluster. The lot of boys—"

Viserys cut her off, cold and sharp. "Aemond... I asked you a question."

Alicent's eyes darted around. She knew.

"Where is Ser Laenor, I wonder?" she asked, her smile a razor. "The boys' father. Perhaps he might have something to say."

Viserys turned to Rhaenyra. "Yes. Where is Ser Laenor?"

Rhaenyra swallowed. "I do not know, Your Grace. I... could not sleep. I was walking."

From the shadows, Daemon Targaryen leaned casually against the doorway, watching all of it unfold, unbothered. Daenys spotted him — confused by his stillness. But Aenora only scoffed, muttering under her breath. "Whore.."

Alicent's grin sharpened. "Entertaining his squires, I'd wager."

Viserys returned to Aemond.
"Look at me. Your king demands an answer. Who spoke these lies to you?"

Aemond's eyes flicked toward Alicent, then dropped. He muttered, "It was Aegon. And Aenora."

Aegon flinched. "Me?!"

Aenora crossed her arms defiantly, saying nothing.

Viserys spun on them. "And you two? Where did you hear such calumnies?"

Aegon opened his mouth — nothing came out.

Viserys bellowed. "Tell me the truth of it!"

Aenora shouted back. "STOP YELLING, FOR GODS' SAKE! IT'S OBVIOUS! LOOK AT THEM! THEY DON'T LOOK ANYTHING LIKE US!"

A gasp filled the hall.

Viserys's eyes burned into her, then slowly turned away.

His voice was loud and furious.
"This interminable infighting must cease. All of you. We are family. Now make your apologies and show good will to one another. Your father... your grandsire... your king demands it."

Alicent stared ahead. "That is insufficient."

Viserys sighed. "Aemond has been damaged, permanently. I cannot restore his eye."

"No. Because it's been taken." Alicent's voice rose, cold and deadly. "There is a debt to be paid. I shall have one of her son's eyes in return."

Gasps echoed again.

Daenys sobbed openly now. "Mother, no! Please, stop!" She tugged at Alicent's sleeve, her voice cracking.

Alicent shoved her away.

"Alicent," Viserys warned.

"He can choose which eye to keep. A privilege he did not grant my son."

"You will do no such thing," Rhaenyra growled.

Viserys ordered, "Stay your hand."

"No! He is sworn to me!" Alicent barked at Criston.

Criston bowed slightly. "As your protector, my Queen."

Viserys's voice rang out. "Alicent, this matter... is finished. Do you understand?" Then louder. "Let it be known: anyone whose tongue dares to question the birth of Princess Rhaenyra's sons shall have it removed."

Rhaenyra nodded stiffly. "Thank you, Father."

But to Daenys, all the voices, the gasps, the crackling fire — they faded.

She only saw Luke, his face smeared with blood, wide eyes brimming with fear.

She broke into a sprint and ran across the hall.

"Luke..." she whispered softly, breathlessly.

Lucerys turned just in time to catch her in his arms.

They collided in a tight hug — blood and tears mixing, both shaking, holding each other like the world was crashing down.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't... I didn't want any of this to happen. I should've stopped Aemond. I should've—" Daenys muttered choking on her words.

"No, no... It's not your fault. It's not." Luke mumbled, shaking his head.

He pulled back just slightly to look at her face, noticing the bandage on her temple, the drying blood staining her hair. "I should be the one apologizing. I shouldn't have brought you to the cave with us. I swear I didn't mean—"

"It wasn't your fault. None of this is." Daenys pressed her forehead to his.

"You're bleeding..." Luke's voice trembled.

Daenys reached up and kissed the bridge of his broken nose gently — an innocent, shaky kiss.
"So are you."

He gave her a broken, soft smile. Then leaned in and pressed a kiss to her stitched temple, careful not to hurt her.

"I'm glad you're okay." Luke whispered.

"As long as you are." Daenys whispered back.

They didn't move, arms wrapped tightly around each other, shielding one another from the chaos swirling around them.

Then—

A scream.

A flash of Valyrian steel.

Alicent grabbed the King's dagger, lunging at Lucerys.

"NO!" Rhaenyra cried and pushed Daenys and Luke away.

They fell into Corlys's arms, still clinging to one another.

Rhaenyra caught Alicent's arm in the middle of the room. The blade was between them, pressing to Rhaenyra's breast.

The hall froze.

Blood dripped wrist as Rhaenyra's sleeve was cut, but her gaze never wavered.

From the side, Aenora smirked with approval. No shame.

Finally, Alicent released the dagger that fell on the ground, stepping back.

Aemond stood, slowly.

"Do not mourn me, Mother." His voice calm, cold leaning into Alicent who hugged him back. "It was a fair exchange. I may have lost an eye... but I gained a dragon."

Viserys turned, cane shaking in his hand.

"This proceeding is at an end."

... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ..

BLACKWATER BAY. ROYAL SHIP
The sea churned softly beneath the hull, waves lapping in a constant rhythm as grey skies bled light through thick clouds. The wind groaned across the sails like a distant moan of regret. Inside her small cabin, Daenys sat curled up on the edge of her narrow bed. Her knees were tucked tightly to her chest, arms wrapped around them like armor. Her forehead rested on bruised knees. The motion of the ship did little to soothe her; it only reminded her of how far from safety she felt.

There was a knock.

Soft. Hesitant. Too polite to be a servant.

Daenys didn't look up.

The door creaked open slowly. Light from the hallway spilled into the dim room, and there stood her mother.

Alicent.

Her hair was neatly pinned, her green velvet cloak still clinging to her from the sea air. Her expression was warm — falsely warm — eyes wet with the weight of guilt. She stepped inside gently, closing the door behind her.

"Daenys," she said in the same voice she used when Daenys was small and sick in bed with fever.

Daenys said nothing. Her eyes didn't meet her mother's.

Alicent walked to the bedside and sat beside her. The mattress dipped. Her hand reached out to find Daenys's, but Daenys flinched and pulled away before she could touch her.

A flicker of pain crossed Alicent's face. But she didn't pull back immediately.

"I came to say I'm sorry," she said softly, watching her daughter. "I didn't mean to frighten you last night."

Daenys lifted her head, eyes red and rimmed with exhaustion.

"You lied," she whispered. "You knew what Aemond did. You just didn't care. You lied to protect Aemond."

Alicent looked down, folding her hands in her lap. "You're right," she said after a pause. "He made a mistake. But Luke..." she inhaled through her nose, voice tightening. "Luke made a bigger one."

Daenys stared at her mother in disbelief. "He didn't mean to hurt Aemond. You know that."

Alicent didn't answer that.

Daenys's shoulders began to tremble. She turned away from her mother completely and buried her face in her knees again. Muffled sobs rose up and were swallowed by the sound of the sea.

Alicent sat for a moment, her lips trembling faintly.

She leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on Daenys's temple. "However much you may hate me," she whispered, "I love you. I love you so, so, so much."

Daenys didn't lift her head. She didn't speak. She didn't move.

Alicent stood slowly. Her cloak brushed the floor as she walked to the door and left without another word.

The silence in the cabin settled again. Only the creaking of wood and the distant cry of gulls.

Another knock.

Lighter this time. Then the door opened without waiting for permission.

Daenys didn't look up right away. She expected a maid.

But when she glanced toward the doorway, Aemond stood there, framed in the doorway like a statue carved from stormclouds. His silver hair was still tangled, his eye patch freshly tied. He stood stiffly, uncertain, the faintest limp in his step.

He didn't say anything.

Neither did she.

Aemond walked a few paces forward, standing now at the edge of her bed. His hands were behind his back, posture rigid — like he was trying not to look small.

"I'm sorry," he said finally, his voice low and hoarse. "For pushing you."

Daenys didn't respond. She rolled to her side, her back half-turned to him, eyes staring at the wooden wall.

Aemond waited for her to say something. Anything.

But the silence stretched.

He let out a breath — disappointed, but not surprised — and turned toward the door. His boots creaked against the floorboards as he walked away.

Daenys kept her face hidden in her pillow, silent tears slipping out again.

The door closed quietly behind him.

And she was alone. Again.

... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ..

MY BABY DAENYS😭🎀❤️