Arianne was lying on his bed wearing nothing but a thin layer of gauze.
Her figure was petite, but every curve of her body was clearly outlined beneath the fabric.
Her slightly curled black hair spread beneath her head, and her dark eyes carried a mix of shyness and surprise.
"Arianne...?"
"Vi—Viserys..."
Her voice trembled slightly. This bold girl had somehow turned soft and hesitant.
"What are you doing here?"
The moment the words left his mouth, Viserys regretted them.
What kind of stupid question was that?
Ever since he had grown into adulthood, he had never really thought about this sort of thing.
Now, caught off guard, he found himself awkward and unsure, blurting out something foolish.
"I'm leaving tomorrow. My mother said... it seems like there's no future between us..."
Arianne sat on the bed, her posture neat but vulnerable, hands resting in front of her as she lowered her head.
There was a faint note of grievance in her voice.
Her carefully arranged hair dipped forward, and a tear fell softly onto the sheets.
"Viserys... have you really never thought about us?"
She lifted her head, her expression pitiful and earnest.
"I..." Viserys hesitated.
It was not that he did not have an answer.
From a political standpoint, he truly had little interest in a marriage alliance with Dorne. In the future, such a union would bring more complications than benefits.
But looking at Arianne like this, he found it difficult to say something so cold.
Before he could respond, she cut him off.
"That's enough. You don't have to say it."
Sometimes, she knew, a person did not need to hear the rejection out loud.
At that moment, a voice came from outside. "Your Majesty? Are you alright?"
"I'm fine. Leave."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
Silence returned.
The faint fragrance of the girl lingered in the air, and it would be a lie to say Viserys felt nothing.
Then, as if making up her mind, Arianne lay back on the bed and spoke.
"Before I leave... I want to give you something to remember. At least in that memory, I'll always be there. I would be your first... right?"
Her eyes were slightly red as she looked at him.
The sight of her lying there made restraint difficult.
Viserys stepped closer to the bed. Arianne's heartbeat quickened.
They were both at an age where desire came easily. Under normal circumstances, the night would not end quietly.
But instead, the young king sat down beside her and spoke calmly. "Arianne, I'm honored by your feelings. But as a king, I will not do this."
He did not need to say more.
She understood.
Sometimes, rejection made a man more compelling rather than less.
Arianne pulled the blanket up to cover herself, her cheeks flushing.
"My goal is to reclaim the Iron Throne," Viserys continued, "but I will not abandon Essos either."
"In the future, I may follow the traditions of Valyria and take more than one wife. I don't want you to regret this choice."
As he spoke, he removed his black coat and placed it in front of her.
"Put this on. I'll walk you back."
Though disappointed, Arianne felt her dignity had been preserved. She quietly slipped into his coat.
She had no shoes, so Viserys gave her his slippers.
The coat was far too large, hanging on her like a loose dress.
As they passed a mirror, she caught a glimpse of herself—wrapped in his coat, wearing his oversized slippers.
For a brief moment, a strange image crossed her mind. She looked like a widow in mourning.
At the door, Viserys turned to the guards.
"Face the wall."
The guards hesitated for only a moment before obeying.
He glanced back at Arianne, and she quickly followed.
They moved through the corridors, avoiding patrols with ease. Viserys knew every route, every pattern.
Halfway there, Arianne suddenly asked, "Will you marry Daenerys... or Rhaenys... or both?"
"Yes."
His answer was immediate.
"Arianne, people like us shouldn't chase love. Maintaining the stability of the realm is part of our duty.
The gifts of fate always come with a price. You can't take power while refusing responsibility."
In recent generations, many Targaryen rulers had defied their duties in marriage.
Their love stories were remembered. But they had also brought instability.
By contrast, his mother Rhaella had chosen duty.
When she was young, she had loved a man from the Stormlands. Nothing had come of it, but the feelings had been real.
Still, she married Aerys II Targaryen.
As Arianne listened, she looked at Viserys walking ahead of her. For a moment, he seemed impossibly distant, impossibly resolute.
That kind of restraint only made him more irresistible.
Soon, they reached the residence where Arianne and her mother were staying.
The guards at the entrance hurried forward, only to freeze in shock when they saw them.
"Your—Your Majesty?!"
"Let me not hear a single word about tonight. Do you understand?"
His voice turned cold.
"Yes, Your Majesty!" They bowed repeatedly.
Viserys then turned to Arianne. "Give my regards to Prince Doran."
She watched him walk away, her gaze lingering, unwilling to let go.
Viserys did not regret his decision.
Gohor had no shortage of beautiful women. If he wanted, he could have anyone.
But if he let desire bind him to Arianne tonight, he would lose control of the situation.
Melisandre's warning had briefly tempted him to live without regrets.
But in the end, he still wanted to live. Acting out of character now would only raise suspicion.
So he restrained himself.
In the end, it came down to one simple truth.
Being king was not easy.
Leaving Arianne's residence, sleep no longer came to him. He walked alone into the garden.
There, beneath the moonlight, sat a girl quietly playing with the hem of her dress.
The silver glow turned her pale golden hair into something almost white, giving her a faintly melancholic air.
Viserys stepped closer and recognized her.
Rhaenys.
He frowned slightly. "Why is no one sleeping tonight?"
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