"Very." His voice was lazy and laconic, and his crooked smile was true. Daemon didn't stop her from reaching out to touch; his skin was nice and warm under hand, if marred with the hardships of his life, written there in leather.

He hadn't come to King's Landing to rule it, but rather to exact justice, or vengeance, either one; it didn't matter with him. But rather than stand by and let lesser men squabble over power they'd never be able to control hadn't really been the best option either.

So here he was; a bastard-born King, with a wife from the North, both of them brought together by fate. And while there might not be love, not yet, there was at least companionship, and life really wasn't so bad, judging by his current mood.

"Not so bad, is it?"