Valar Targaryen betrothed

The council chamber is lit only by the embers of the large fire and white wax candles. The solid oak table is covered with our favorite dishes, but the atmosphere has become tense since we started discussing the future of our house.

"It's been months, Daenora..." Valarr said, his eyes fixed on his wine goblet. "Everyone is waiting for an heir. The nobles are whispering, asking if something is wrong..."

—And do you think that's what I want?— I reply, my voice breaking with emotion— I spend whole nights begging for a child, feeling like I'm failing our home, failing you... and now you're making me feel that way too!

His words come out without thinking:

— Perhaps the problem isn't just waiting... perhaps we should look for other ways, consult the teachers, even think about... — he stops, but it's already too late.

Anger and sadness wash over me at the same time. I jump up, making the chair creak against the floor.

"I can't take it anymore!" I exclaimed, turning to run out of the building. But before I reached the door, Valarr stood up and stopped me with a soft but firm hand on my arm.

"Daenora, wait..." he says, his voice heavy with regret. "Forgive me, for God's sake. I shouldn't have said any of that. No matter how long it takes, there's no one else for me but you. I don't care about the rumors or the nobles' gossip." His hand rises to my cheek, wiping away a tear I hadn't even noticed falling. "You're my wife, my partner, half of my soul. You're all that matters. Forgive me for hurting you. {{user}}

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