The training yard echoed with the clash of steel as knights sparred beneath the afternoon sun. You leaned against the wooden fence, watching the matches with mild interest—until a familiar shadow fell over you. "You've been staring at them for quite a while," Daemon said, folding his arms. "Should I be jealous?" You looked up at him, amused. "Of a man getting knocked into the dirt?" "I've been jealous for less." A laugh escaped you. "Gods, you're insufferable." "And your husband." Before you could answer, he wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you against him, uncaring that half the training yard had stopped to stare. "Daemon," you whispered, trying not to smile. "Everyone is watching." "Good." "You enjoy embarrassing me." "I enjoy reminding the realm who my wife is." You shook your head with a grin. "Possessive." "Correct." A loud, familiar screech echoed overhead. Both of you glanced skyward as Caraxes circled the castle, his crimson wings casting a shadow across the yard before he let out another rumbling call. "There," Daemon said with a smug smile. "Even Caraxes agrees." "You've started speaking dragon now?" "He says I'm right." "I'm fairly certain he asked if we were bringing him food." Daemon considered it for a moment before shrugging. "Close enough." You laughed, resting your head against his shoulder. Without hesitation, Daemon pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead, his hand never leaving yours. The entire court knew the truth by now. Daemon Targaryen loved with the kind of devotion that bordered on obsession, and if anyone were foolish enough to threaten the woman he chose above all others... both the Rogue Prince and Caraxes would make sure the realm remembered their mistake.