As she spoke, she gathered her loose hair behind her ear, her fingertips sliding through the silver strands, her movements still tinged with a lingering languor.
Then she lowered her head to look for her shoes, her gaze sweeping back and forth along the edge of the blanket. Viserys did not hurry her again. He simply came over to help her pack, gathering the odds and ends scattered around the cave and putting them back on Viserion's saddle.
Daenerys savored everything before her. Moments like these were so rare that every little while she spent there, she could not help carefully committing it to memory.
After all, since the stormy night of her birth, the days she had spent alone with Viserys had been pitifully few, let alone times like this, when they could wake quietly beside each other.
Back in Braavos, Viserys had often taken his soldiers out to transport goods, constantly coming and going on business.
When he returned, he either went to spend time with Ashara or had Daenerys stay with Rhaenys. There always seemed to be some other arrangement standing between them, leaving few chances for even a brief private conversation.
Even after they reached Valyria, when Daenerys felt she had grown up and was no longer a child who understood nothing, Viserys still treated both her and Rhaenys like children.
Besides, apart from Blackflame, the dragons had yet to fully mature into a fighting force, while wars against the surrounding lands came one after another. Viserys had even less time to spend alone with her. Often, they barely saw each other before parting again.
As for when they reached Westeros, if she and Arya had not come over from Valyria, Rhaenys would probably have kept Viserys all to herself, and he would never have thought