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Summary
No one would be able to argue that the princess was anything less than delighted on her wedding day. She was all bloodstained smiles and pretty blonde hair, and Daemon wouldn’t have her any other way.
But she was still young. And so, the union would remain unconsummated until Rhaenyra’s first heat.
He didn’t think it would be long before the fever took her. Leaving her flushed and writhing and wanting, in a way that only he could sate her. For he was her husband now, and one day soon he would mate her.
