LYRA opened her viridescent green eyes to a stream of golden sunlight and glistening silver. Violet amethyst gazed back at her under heavily lidded eyes and she smiled endearingly. Daemon brushed her dark hair from her face, lips curving in reciprocation.

"Good morrow," he murmured.

"Wake up, husband," she said, "today is a big day for you."

He hummed in response before leaning forward to kiss her lips. Lyra felt her heart sing with love as she caressed his cheek gently. It was an important day indeed, one that would mark a change for the entire realm as well as their future.

They got up from the bed together and went to wash themselves before the servants entered their bedchamber. Her handmaidens placed screens across the middle of the room to protect her modesty while the male servants helped Daemon to dress for the ceremony.

Lyra changed into a beautiful silver dress with sequined embroidery of a dragon along its bodice. The sleeves and hem were encrusted with a dusting of tiny sapphires that weighed heavily over her limbs. She then had her raven hair done in intricate braids coiled above her head with silver ornamental pins.

Once she was ready, the handmaidens brought the screens away. Daemon stood in front of a long looking glass wearing a black surcoat that was embroidered with thick golden thread along the hems and buttons. Around his shoulders was a thick black cloak that was lined with red sik inside and black felt around the edges.

"You look very handsome," she complimented as he adjusted the collar around his neck.

He looked at her through the reflection and smirked. "When have I not?" he responded cheekily.

Lyra rolled her eyes as she approached him. She adjusted the cloak's golden clasps and smoothed the surcoat's folds. "I heard Hobert Hightower arrived yesterday evening."

Daemon grunted in approval. "As he should if he doesn't want to be charged with treason. I'm sure Otto Hightower is not that stupid."

"Well, just to be safe, I'll keep an eye on them," she said. "We wouldn't want a coup on our hands."

He grinned devilishly. "I'm sure neither Dark Sister nor I would mind the diversion."

She narrowed her eyes testily. "Daemon!" she admonished.

His laughter filled the air. He stroked her hair while placing a peck on the crown of her head. "Your will is my command, ñuha jorrāelagon."

Even after so many years, he was still as insufferable as the first day she met him. Lyra took him by the arm and steered him towards the door. "Come, you mustn't be late for your own ceremony."

"But it is precisely because it is my ceremony that I can be late," he objected, turning around and fixing her with a roguish smirk. "I dare say we have some time together for ourselves."

She smacked him on the arm. "Daemon! The entire realm is waiting for you!"

"They can wait for another ten minutes," he responded with a vexatious grin.

Lyra pushed him forwards. "They will not!" She wrenched the door open before he had another chance to protest. The Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, Ser Harrold Westerling, was waiting outside for them along with Ser Elwyn. They turned to bow before them.

"My prince and princess," Ser Harrold greeted. "If you're ready, my prince, we may proceed to the Great Hall."

"Yes, he's ready," Lyra replied, sending Daemon a pointed look as he kept his smile on his face. "Lead the way, Ser."

"You're looking very kingly today, my prince," Ser Elwyn said with a star-struck gaze in his blue eyes. He seemed as proud as Lyra felt for the man.

"Don't I always do?" Daemon responded, lips pulling back to reveal his teeth like a grinning lion. Lyra let out a weary sigh at her husband's witty behaviour but she couldn't complain. That was one of the many reasons she fell in love with him.

They traversed the winding corridors of Maegor's Holdfast, crossing the moat into the administrative halls of the keep. The heavy wooden doors of the Great Hall loomed in front of them soon enough and Daemon clasped Lyra's hand as they paused at the threshold. She looked up at him and into familiar violet eyes that reflected the same affection she held within.

"I will see you in front of the throne," she said, breath wispy as she felt her heart surge with electrifying emotion. The moment their lives would change stood before them and she would walk that uncertain path with him to its end, wherever it may lead.

"Ñuha dāria," he whispered and she almost shivered at the thought of being the next queen. "I owe this — everything — to you. Iksā se sȳrje run naejot massigon isse ñuha ābrar."

You are the best thing to happen in my life. The words echoed in her ears and Lyra smiled, jade eyes sparkling under the radiance of the resplendent light of day. He was a silver vision of dreams made flesh, steel edges melting away to silk and snow and midnight whispers. She cupped his face between her hands and leaned forwards to press her lips against his cheek.

"Hae iksā se vēzos hen ñuha ābrar," she whispered back. The sun that breathed her reason for living. Conscious of the time, she pulled away from him and let her hands slip from his face. His violet eyes followed her longingly and another smile quirked her lips. "I can not wait to see Otto Hightower's face when every high lord in the realm kneels before you."

His roguish grin returned, all teeth and snark and wild ferocity. "I will relish every moment of it."

Lyra turned to Ser Elwyn who looked so touched at their brief exchange that he might have almost wept. She nodded to him and he cracked open one of the doors of the Great Hall. The murmurs of the nobility spilt out as she slipped inside. She weaved through the crowd, spotting her father amongst them, and brushed past him with a wide smile. Lord Stark gave her a small nod back as she continued to the front of the hall where everyone else awaited her. Rhaenyra immediately found her hand and beamed in greeting with sparkling lavender eyes. Baelor, Vaegon and Alyse were standing attentively on her other side.

She looked up to Viserys who sat on his throne of swords and nodded to him. He then signalled for one of the knights and the doors to the Great Hall were thrown open to reveal Daemon at its entrance. He strode forward confidently as a squire announced his arrival. The murmurs around the hall halted as the world watched him stand before the king. He faced the hall, looking as regal as the clothes he donned.

Corlys was the first to walk forwards from the crowd to kneel before Daemon and the king. "I, Corlys Velaryon, Lord of the Tides and Master of Driftmark, promise to be faithful to King Viserys and his named heir, Prince Daemon. I pledge fealty to them and shall defend them against all enemies in good faith and without deceit."

Next was her father who knelt with a pleased smile at his good-son. Lyra could feel the warmth and pride exuding from him. "I, Rickon Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North . . ."

Decades ago, the Northmen had always shown their dissatisfaction at the Crown for taking away their land in favour of the Night's Watch; only to see it decline to ruins. Now they rejoice whenever they heard the beat of dragon wings and the glint of crimson scales in the pale wintry skies.

"Will we have to move to Dragonstone?" Baelor asked quietly and Lyra felt Rhaenyra squeeze her hand tightly.

"We haven't decided that yet," she replied.

"I want to stay here in King's Landing," he said.

"We'll talk about it later," Lyra told him.

"I, Lord Hobert Hightower, Beacon of the South, Defender of the Citadel and Voice of Oldtown . . ."

Daemon wore a smug smile as his violet eyes wandered the crowd. Lyra glanced over her shoulder and met Otto Hightower's icy glare. She bit back the smirk she wanted to bestow him and turned her attention back to the throne. Daemon caught her eye and she could practically hear his musical laughter in her ears.

Once the pledges of fealty were over, Viserys stood from his throne with Blackfyre in his hand as his eyes briefly swept over the teeming hall. Lyra had always believed him to be a fine king, he always endeavoured to do well for his people and the realm. Under the iridescent light that poured through the stained glass window behind him, she was reminded of the old King Jaehaerys and his peaceful reign. She hoped it would last forever.

He started to recite with a solemn voice, "I, Viserys Targaryen, first of his name, King of the Andals, and the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm, do hereby name Daemon Targaryen, Prince of Dragonstone and heir to the Iron Throne."

The highborn lords and ladies of the seven kingdoms bowed their heads to them in obedience and respect. Lyra peered up at Viseryes and they shared a silent agreement with one another. The hands of fate had ordained this day with its fiery brand of promised destiny. Daemon would make a good king, she vowed to herself. A great king that would set his mark on the pages of history and bards will sing his song for days to come. With every breath she took, she swore she would see it to be true.

AUTHOR'S NOTE
helloo i'm back! i'm so sorry this chapter took me way too long to write. i also developed a huge ass crush on aemond recently bahaha. but daemon is officially the new heir! i can't wait for the stepstones war coming after this <3

btw is anyone else annoyed that the new wattpad update changed all the cute moon symbols into emojis or is that just me?? also i bought this nice winter-scented candle but when i burn it, there's no smell :'( i wanted my room to smell of christmas huhu

Translations:
ñuha jorrāelagon - my love
Ñuha dāria - my queen
Iksā se sȳrje run naejot massigon isse ñuha ābrar - you are the best thing to happen in my life
Hae iksā se vēzos hen ñuha ābrar - and you are the sun of my life