[ He leaves her again, wrenches himself from her and it's like a copy of a memory. Rhaenyra pulls her dress down as he stands, cheeks burning with angry humiliation, but the rage quickly turns embarrassment to embers. Then she cools, watching him stand there. Exposed. He hasn't run off yet.

Maybe this isn't the same as last time. She gets up slowly, fusses almost shyly at her hair to get the leaves and twigs out of it as she approaches him. When he lets her, she lays her small hands on his chest, looks up at him with eyes glinting in the strangest golden way now, fierce with lust and hurt, all mixed up in one. ]

So treat me as you believe I deserve and let us be done with this game.

[ Of push and pull, of secrecy and empty promises. Let it be what it is and for that, she understands now that she needs to hold the door open for him. ]

I want you, Daemon. That's all. As I always have.