Daemon had managed to sneak away from his guard during supper. He had spent the supper time with his family, as expected. The Targaryen children rarely talked to one another during the time but it was better than nothing. They could have decided not to spend supper together or even to not eat. So, Daemon would gladly take the silence if that meant he knew his siblings were eating.
Once he deemed it polite to do so, he excused himself from the table and exited the room. For some reason, a walk seemed like a fine idea. He had little desire to return to his chambers and even less of a desire to deal with his personal guard. So, he quickly turned the corner and set off for a walk.
When he finally sensed that he was alone, Daemon released a soft sigh and ran his fingers through his white blonde hair. The stress he had been feeling was beginning to show on his face. He didn’t like people worrying about him. It was one of the reasons why he rarely cried. Even after his parents’ death, he hadn’t shed a tear. He was sure it would all crash on him one day but as for now, he must remain strong for his siblings.
Footsteps that were not his own echoed in the empty hallway. Daemon glanced up and stopped immediately when he spotted Ryon Stark. His violet eyes scanned their surroundings and realized that his thoughts had carried him all the way to the North Wing. Frowning slightly, he fixated his eyes back on Ryon, shifting awkwardly as he did so.
“…Lord Ryon.” Daemon said stiffly. He hadn’t been prepared to see him. Attempting to clear the stress and sadness from his face, he looked away again. He hadn’t seen Ryon in weeks. And it was hard to forget their last visit. Daemon remembered it all so vividly - his lips on his, his body pressed to his. But it had all been ruined by a couple of men who happened to stumble upon them. Ryon had made it clear that whatever they had was not going to work out after he killed the two men. “H-How are you?”