You want me to slay the evil king before I wed you? Like the hero in a song?

[He doesn't like to hear no, but it's a good look on her, and only her. Still, he bargains. He's still on his knees. Naked and prostrated, something a Targaryen prince-- king!-- should never be. He moves into her space, though he barely ever left it.]

You know the rules of songs, Rhaenyra. [He leans in. His mouth is curved into mischief's bow.] Kiss me again.