Early in the morning.
Flea Bottom, a stone building.
A ray of sunlight penetrated the narrow window and hit the straw mat.
Daemon was wrapped in bandages and opened his eyes because of the light.
In the dim backlight, stood a slender woman in a white dress.
Pale skin, long black hair, and charming looks.
"You treat me as a prisoner?"
Daemon was dizzy and recognized who the other person was.
His former mistress, "White Maggot" Mysaria.
Mysaria fiddled with the medicine pot and asked back: "Like you used to treat me?"
Daemon turned his head away, too lazy to bring up the past.
The two separated a long time ago, or the other party dumped him.
"You should be glad that I am your protector."
Mysaria walked to the straw bed with her slender legs: "The king is the one who really treats you as a prisoner, and the gold cloaks are looking for you all over the city."
I can't imagine what happened last night.
The brothel with hundreds of people burned down overnight, leaving only solidified lava with charred corpses.
If her people had arrived a step later, her old lover would have been burned to ashes.
"Hiss~~"
Daemon felt dizzy and shivered when he heard it, and he was shaking with pain when he moved his body.
Mysaria put the medicine in his hand and reminded him: "Drink it, you are covered with wounds, and you broke a leg."
Daemon was startled when he heard it, and then he realized the injuries all over his body.
His neck, upper body, and right hand were all wrapped in bandages, and his left leg was fixed with a splint with a wooden board.
He touched his forehead with his left hand, and half of his face was swollen like a steamed bun, covered with a layer of sticky ointment.
"Why am I here?"
Daemon finally remembered that he didn't spend the night here last night.
"Your son almost killed you."
Mysaria rolled her eyes and said with contempt: "Because you stole his beloved girl, you are so shameless."
If she knew the situation in advance, she would not help him.
He caused a lot of trouble for nothing.
"I would rather he kill me."
Daemon laughed at himself.
Mysaria had a blank expression on her face and stretched out her hand to ask for money: "Then you have to pay me for the consultation and accommodation first."
"My leg was not broken by that boy."
Daemon cursed the bitch inwardly.
"I broke it when I rescued you. It cost me dozens of gold dragons to save this leg and the tendons of my right hand."
Mysaria counted one account after another, and said with a business mind: "If you don't pay, I will notify the golden robes to arrest you."
Daemon spilled the medicine in his hand and said in despair: "I don't need a prostitute to protect me."
"I'm not an ordinary prostitute."
Mysaria's face changed.
Before treating the injury, the other party should first cure his arrogance.
Daemon was unwilling to bow his head: "Okay, an ordinary prostitute."
He was now frustrated and in no mood to talk about anything.
He wanted to hook up with Rhaenyra and become a king's husband for his son.
But Rhaenyra didn't have him in her heart.
He could only settle for the second best and find someone to teach her some bed knowledge.
Although he was selfish, he stuck to his bottom line.
"You should have stayed and burned to death in the fire last night."
Mysaria picked up the cup, annoyed that her subordinates acted on their own.
Creak!
The door opened and a thin orphan walked in.
This room is a basement, and the upstairs leads directly to a brothel.
Mysaria stood up and said proudly: "I have long bid farewell to the past. The flesh trade can only give me very little."
The orphan walked closer and handed over a handful of gold royals.
Daemon was used to the other party's independent consciousness: "You have always been restless."
The orphan gave the money and left with ease.
Mysaria counted and sighed: "Life is full of surprises and betrayals. Even though someone provides them with food and clothing, they still easily sell their self-esteem."
What she desires most is respect.
There are always people who don't cherish it.
"You are just a maggot in the pit."
Daemon adapted to the severe pain all over his body, and wanted to get up but fell heavily.
Mysaria was not angry, and walked out of the door gently: "I hope the king will not chop off your head. The golden robe will pay for your medical expenses and accommodation."
Bang!
The door was closed, not a single ray of sunlight could penetrate.
...
Red Keep.
Princess's bedroom.
Aemon was lying on a couch, a small dress covering his face.
He was still asleep.
Before he knew it, he had entered a dream.
A towering mountain.
The mountain was covered with lush vegetation, and there was a thin mist halfway down the mountain.
Boom—
a huge monster shuttled through the clouds, its bronze scales glowing with metallic luster, and its slender dragon tail flashed by.
Aemon walked on the rocky path, his hands piercing his flesh as he climbed.
He was not conscious, and he only knew to climb up.
It seemed to be the Lonely Mountain.
But under the mist, Driftmark island could not be seen, nor could the long lake where black swans roamed.
Ring!
Suddenly, a ring of bells rang out.
Aemon looked up blankly.
A huge bronze tree took root on the top of the mountain, with thirty-six branches piercing the mist, and palm-sized bronze leaves swaying in the wind.
At the top of the giant tree, a disk emitting heat hung high, like a second sun.
The light was so blinding that the entire outline of the giant tree could not be seen.
However, many of the branches were hung with small copper bells.
Every time the giant tree shook, the bronze bells made a crisp sound.
"What?"
Aemon was confused.
The giant tree seemed to be calling him, asking him to kowtow.
"You are just a tree."
Aemon was simple-minded.
The giant tree shook violently, as if it was going to shake the bronze bell down and crush the disrespectful person.
"No, I planted you."
Aemon verbally rejected this unscrupulous behavior of repaying kindness with enmity.
The giant tree stopped.
The mist on the hillside slowly dissipated, revealing a magnificent palace built of white marble and a huge fortified city protected by two high walls.
The people inside lived and worked in peace and contentment, with happy smiles on their faces.
Aemon:?
I don't agree, I'm attracted to the people in the city.
Ring!
Suddenly, a crisp bell sounded in his ears, waking him up from his dream.
Aemon's feet were empty and he lost consciousness.
Outside world.
"Squeak~~"
The golden-nosed rat's eyes were full of revenge, holding up the bronze bell and shaking it in his master's ear.
Aemon suddenly opened his eyes and slapped it hard.
Pah!
There was only a miserable rat cry, and the world was quiet.
Aemon pinched the small clothes on his face and got up sleepily.
It was the critical moment of the dream.
I haven't figured out what happened yet.
Looking around, the room was in a mess.
"Are you awake?"
Rhaenyra was wearing a silk nightgown and standing in front of the glass mirror combing her hair.
The sun shone on the nightgown, revealing her well-proportioned figure.
The silver-gold slightly curly long hair was scattered around her waist, and was gently combed with a wooden comb.
The picture was quite peaceful.
Aemon rubbed his eyebrows and said with a headache: "What did I do last night?"
He seemed to have killed Daemon.
The other party should not be able to withstand the dragon flame of Vormithor.
Rhaenyra turned around, her beautiful eyes turned, and admitted: "I!"
Aemon was stunned for a moment, speechless: "I believed your nonsense, but your brain is still a pile of shit."
How big a face can you give such an answer.
"You scolded me again."
Rhaenyra bit her lip.
He had scolded her all night last night.
"I can apologize."
Aemon began to dress.
"No need."
Rhaenyra turned back and continued to comb her hair like a punching bag.
Let her scold.
She had endured the inhuman treatment last night by gritting her teeth.
It wouldn't hurt to be scolded.
Aemon was surprised by her reaction, which was completely different from her stubborn appearance before.
Rhaenyra took a peek and saw that he was not angry. She waved: "Come here."
Aemon walked to the glass mirror.
"Help me comb my hair."
Rhaenyra handed over the comb expectantly.
"Comb it in the style of Queen Visenya?"
Aemon started to operate.
Rhaenyra raised a smile: "Anything is fine."
She was looking for a way to give warmth.
Aemon was not on the same channel, repeating the actions mechanically.
After a night of thinking, many things were traceable.
Daemon seduced Rhaenyra not just to become the king's husband.
But his actions and thoughts were full of confusion.
It was like a person driving an ox cart, suddenly jumped off the cart, picked up the ox, and then pulled the cart for two miles.
It was incomprehensible.
"Aemon, are we still the same as before?"
Rhaenyra hummed a little tune and leaned her head on his broad chest.
Aemon was a big sex addict.
Although Rhaenyra was as stupid as a pig, she was really beautiful.
The affection of many years of companionship and the important position made him degenerate.
But it was certain last night.
Rhaenyra's belt was tight, keeping her virginity intact.
"Don't ignore me."
Rhaenyra looked up and said pitifully: "I am stupid."
Aemon's breathing stagnated, and he suspected that his ears were blind.
Numb!
What strange attribute did she awaken?
How can she be so thick-skinned that she can always say "I am stupid but I am right"?
Rhaenyra was afraid of being abandoned, and was eager to show: "We are still the same as before."
This is how she made up for her mistake last time.
It was not only Rhaenyra's stupidity that made him angry.
She appeared in the brothel with Daemon, even if nothing happened, some ideas took root.
He faced Rhaenyra, more of a responsibility.
. . .
Morning.
Daemon returned to the Red Keep, his head nearly touching the ground.
He was not alone.
Several men in golden robes approached him, looking serious, and arrested him like a prisoner.
Harold, the commander of the Kingsguard, led two other Kingsguard members and hurried out just in time to meet them.
Without saying a word, the two knights twisted Daemon's arms and detained him on the spot.
"Hiss!"
Daemon woke up instantly and gasped in pain.
He was covered in wounds.
Harold looked down at Daemon coldly and said indifferently, "The king wants to see you, prince."
The two Kingsguard brothers lifted Daemon up and walked forward as if he were a dead dog.
"Let go of your dirty hands!"
Daemon gritted his teeth; one of his legs was in a splint.
Harold glanced at him and pretended not to hear.
As a close minister of the king, he knew the details.
The man in front of him did not deserve special treatment, and he had to endure the pain.
The group hurried into the throne room.
The two Kingsguard brothers were even ruder, throwing Daemon onto the cold floor.
Harold led the team away.
Viserys walked out from the side. His voice was inaudible. "Last night."
Daemon grimaced, unable to get up because of the pain.
"You don't even deny it?"
Viserys looked at the jackal in front of him with cold eyes.
Daemon groaned in pain. "I have to know the charges first. Then I'll know what to deny."
"You want to ruin this marriage!"
Viserys hated how stubborn he was and kicked him viciously.
"Uh..."
Daemon was kicked in the abdomen, and the wound immediately bled, seeping through the bandage.
Viserys resisted the urge to kill him and circled around. "Still not going to admit it?"
"You didn't do anything."
Daemon spoke his true thoughts: "I just feel sorry for Rhaenyra. I want her to learn how to control men."
Viserys laughed angrily. "That's a brothel. You lead by example."
"When we were Rhaenyra's age, we slept with every brothel in King's Landing."
Daemon turned over, revealing his disfigured face.
Viserys's smile froze. "We are young men. She is a girl. She is engaged."
"The boy took her back."
Daemon interrupted and said casually, "He won't reject this political marriage, and they'll still love each other."
Viserys opened his eyes wide and could not believe his ears.
"You fucking—"
Viserys cursed and leaned down to grab his collar as fast as a shadow, yelling, "You want to destroy them!"
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