Dany remembers a night with King Robert.

“You look like him,” King Robert's words were harsh and slurred, the voice of a man already deep into his cups. “Your shit brother, the man who started all this,” he clarified, waving his hand around, the ale in his cup slushing over the edges spilling to the floor and onto his lap.

“Took everything from me.” he half muttered gazing at her emptily.

Everything? Daenerys rolled her eyes, rich from a man who had slaughtered her family and usurped her throne and Kingdom. The Maesters could add being a hypocrite to the long list of character faults when they wrote King Robert’s history.

He was staring at her again, a look she had become quite familiar with. He put his cup down. Private meetings with the King were always a mistake, especially when he had been drinking, but what choice did she have, he was the King.

She had once overheard the King tell Ned Stark that he dreamt of killing her brother Rheager every night, that he relived his triumphant victory at the Trident. She wondered what the honorable Ned Stark would say if he knew what he did to her most nights.

Why settle for simple dreams of killing the last dragon when you could spend your nights fucking one.

Robert stood and she flinched, her back going straight. He stepped forward, one hand heavy on the table, she looked at him.

“Up, girl,” he demanded then reached for her, his large hand grabbing her shoulder. She stood, took a step back but he held still, his hand going from her shoulder to her neck, before burying itself in her silver hair.

He was close enough she could smell the wine on his breath.

“Your Grace,” she whispered, as he leered down at her. She could already hear the increased pace of his breath, see the quick rise and fall of his chest.