"What did you call me?" Viserys suddenly turned and seized Doreah by the chin. "Slut, don't think sleeping with me a few times gives you the right to address your king by name."
"Your Grace, King Viserys," Doreah said softly, tears streaming down her face. "Your Grace, I'm worried about you. There are Unsullied everywhere. We're being watched."
"Of course I know." A trace of impatience crossed Viserys's face. "Do you take me for a fool? The bastard is out in the field fighting those horse-reeking horsemen to the death. Security is bound to be a little lax. This is my last chance."
"Your Grace, I think we're doing quite well here. We have a house and supplies, and I can keep you company."
"Your Grace, Your Grace. Is a king without land still a king?" Viserys said coldly. "Westeros is the land we inherited through the blood of the true dragon. Though it was taken through plots and treachery, it still belongs to me. It will always belong to me."
"Can I come with you?"
"You?" Viserys said scornfully, then reconsidered. Perhaps bringing a woman would make Daenerys lower her guard.
"Very well." Viserys stroked her lovely hair tenderly. "When historians write my life, they will say my reign began today."
Viserys was different from Daenerys. He had been old enough to remember when their kingdom fell. Having tasted and seen that life, he naturally could not forget the Iron Throne. Back then, the Mad King's favorites had even proposed disinheriting Rhaegar and making Viserys the crown prince.
With merely average abilities, Viserys aspired to the supremely difficult task of restoring his kingdom. It was under this pressure that he began descending into madness and hysteria.
"Your Grace, I..." Doreah looked at Viserys, about to tell him some happy