Daella Targaryen, Master Tower – Potter Manor

BOOOOOM!

Daella could not help but shudder at the titanic thunder produced by the monstrous storm that struck the Crownlands. The young princess looked out from the balcony of her new room, shuddering as she watched bolt after bolt of lightning strike the same place in the distance beyond the castle.

In the distance, Daella could see a burning tree, but it was too far away for her to see what was really happening. However, the presence of Fulgarion, her beloved's Thunderbird familiar, betrayed the arcane nature of this monstrous storm.

The princess sighed heavily. The storm was so powerful that huge waves lashed the castle walls fiercely. Normally, if a storm like this struck any other castle in Westeros, including the Red Keep and Summerhall, Daella would have to endure leaks, intense cold, and deplorable conditions.

But not Potter Manor. Here, every room was warm, extremely luxurious, and protected from the hardships of the outside world. She could walk within these walls completely naked without any problems, and she would never feel cold, the Targaryen princess thought with a sigh of pleasure as she tied the thin, warm silk robe around her body. Meanwhile, Daella caressed the choker around her neck, the one the beautiful princess had not taken off since her owner had placed it there.

The object marked her as the property of House Potter, she thought with a shudder, still lost in thought and worried about the more-than-strained relationship between Harrys and her family.

The entire Targaryen clan was pleased by her closeness to Harrys, no doubt relieved to have tangible ties between the powerful and dangerous Lord and the Royal House. The princess still remembered her father's pleased and relieved expression when he saw Daella come down to breakfast one day dressed in a beautiful and luxurious gown in Potter colors, made entirely to measure and of much better quality and luxury than anything Daella had ever owned. She also remembered the proud smiles of her grandmother and Uncle Baelor.

Although, if her family knew the things Daella did beneath the sheets for Harrys's wicked pleasure, she was certain they would have a stroke on the spot, she thought with some amusement, trembling as she recalled her last session with Harrys and Gwyn.

Her man continued... punishing Daella in the most painfully delicious way possible. During the day, Daella dedicated herself to studying the books Harrys allowed her to read, taking on more and more responsibilities in the name of her Lord.

But at night...

Daella ceased to be a princess. The respect shown by Harrys's soldiers and servants disappeared, and the Valyrian maiden, a woman of the highest birth and a member of the Royal Family, gave way to a needy whore entirely at the disposal of the Lord of the castle.

And no one else, she belongs to Harrys, forever.

He hadn't fucked her yet. In Harrys's own words, Daella still hadn't earned the right to share his bed and carried his seed, limiting their nightly activities to pleasing the vapid Ashford girl until her tongue grew dumb for his enjoyment.

Oh, the humiliation, Daella thought with a heavy sigh, remembering with a grimace of annoyance the countless nights she'd spent on her knees, with her tongue between Gwyn Ashford's thighs, licking her shaved cunt gently as Harrys used his magic to induce orgasm after orgasm in Daella's body.

She was nothing more than his toy...

And the worst thing was that, to the princess's growing embarrassment, she liked it more and more. She woke up every morning thinking only about the pleasant nightly session, finding a strange satisfaction in pleasing Harrys and obeying his orders, as if... something inside her told her that this was the natural order of things.

That she, as a Valyrian maiden, existed only to satisfy the carnal desires of the last of the Peverells.

Oh Gods, how she missed Harrys, thought the absent-minded princess, so lost in her own world that she did not even notice the stealthy arrival of her aunt Shiera. Just like Daella, she wore a scandalous dress that left practically nothing to the imagination, proudly displaying the Peverell colors, with a matching choker.

"Oh, dear niece!" she said in a sweet but dangerous voice, drawing the princess's attention and pulling Daella out of her thoughts. Daella met the smiling and pleased gaze of her grandfather's sister.

"What are you doing here?" Daella blurted out with veiled contempt, watching the ethereal vision of Shiera Seastar enter her room with that silky, elegant stride the young princess had once admired.

She had always thought Shiera was elegant and beautiful. Everything she did looked... right. It was as simple as that. Her grandfather's bastard sister was pure seduction, with a beautiful body, large, upturned breasts, a narrow waist, and wide hips. She was a woman who didn't hesitate to use her blessed body to get whatever she wanted.

Countless were the cocks the blonde woman had ridden, although apparently, she was quite comfortable with the Peverell choker around her neck.

Daella couldn't blame her, to be honest. Harrys was young, with an extremely high libido and a dominant streak that turned even the bravest of women into a docile and dutiful bitch.

Somehow, the so-called most beautiful woman in the world had managed to place herself under Harrys's protection, something Daella still didn't dare to ask her Master about.

"Oh! Why so much hostility, niece?" she asked with a purr as she pouted, although her eyes remained attentive and focused.

Daella couldn't help frowning. She was filled with anger just by seeing her aunt's face, while Shiera seemed totally indifferent to the princess's annoyance.

"I don't know what the fuck you're playing at, but I won't let you hurt Harrys!" Daella declared with strength and determination in her voice, making Shiera look at her in surprise for a moment before letting out a loud but sincere laugh, much to Daella's obvious annoyance.

"What the fuck are you laughing at?" she blurted out furiously, demanding an explanation from the woman.

But Shiera took her time answering, focusing those two-colored eyes on Daella's purple orbs.

"Oh, dear niece, I am extremely flattered that you believe me capable of hurting someone like Harrys Potter," the woman said with a smile before shaking her head and continuing as usual.

"I couldn't overlook the hostility you've shown toward me. Do you have anything to tell me?" Shiera purred as she sat in front of Daella, crossing her legs with that damned elegance Daella detested and admired at the same time.

Every movement, even the most insignificant one the woman made, was... pure seduction. That had to be an impressive talent.

"Why would I have a problem with you? It's not like you've thrown yourself at my man's feet and offered yourself to him like a whore," Daella blurted out furiously, her hands clenched tightly.

Her aunt laughed softly before shrugging her shoulders and answering.

"Come on! Did you want to monopolize that delicious, powerful, and dangerous man for yourself? Don't talk nonsense, niece. My submission to Lord Potter is a strategic decision on my part. I'm not getting any younger, you know? It's smart of me to look for a powerful man to spoil in exchange for a little pampering and luxury" Shiera said with obvious amusement, causing fury to invade the young princess.

However, before Daella could respond, another powerful rumble lashed the skies, while more lightning struck one after another on the outskirts of the Palace.

BOOOOOOOM!!

The dark, stormy night brightened for an instant, interrupting the conversation between the two women.

Daella frowned slightly, feeling an unpleasant chill run down her spine. There was something about this storm that made her hair stand on end, something she couldn't identify, and it seemed to get worse with every thunderclap that rumbled over the Palace. The wind slammed violently against the windows, rattling the transparent glass as lightning flashed through the room.

However, the princess suppressed that uneasiness almost immediately, concentrating all her attention on the woman in front of her. Her expression hardened as her eyes fixed on her aunt's face. Far from being intimidated by Daella's obvious fury, Shiera simply returned her gaze with a smile full of sarcasm.

That damned smile the princess had admired before. She had once associated it with a strong woman, but now... it only caused her revulsion, a constant reminder of all she had lost through her own stupidity.

Daella clenched her fists slightly, feeling her patience begin to wear thin. Her aunt seemed to be enjoying the situation immensely, and the gleam of amusement that lit up her eyes only confirmed her suspicions. There was no shame in her expression, not even an attempt to disguise her true intentions.

Harrys's favor. And although Daella had reluctantly accepted that Gwyn would be above her in the hierarchy within House Potter, she would not allow Shiera Seastar to meddle in what was hers.

"You know perfectly well that is not true," the princess finally snapped, her voice as cold as it was curt. "You could have any man you wanted, and we both know it. Any fat, wealthy magister in Pentos would be happy to have you by his side, humiliating himself and going bankrupt for a single one of your caresses. You might even find a lord willing to offer you his name and his protection."

The princess paused again as more thunder echoed throughout the Palace, so loudly that the luxurious glass windows shuddered from the force of the storm outside.

Daella paused slightly, inhaling deeply as she tried to contain the growing indignation that threatened to boil over. Her fingers closed tightly around the delicate fabric of her silk dressing gown, which she wore every night in case Harrys wanted to exercise his rights over her body. Nevertheless, she kept her back straight and her chin slightly raised, refusing to show weakness in front of this woman.

"By the Seven Hells! Even the Sealord of Braavos himself would gladly accept you as a concubine, perhaps even as a wife," she continued, raising her voice slightly, revealing the dragon within her. "You are not a helpless maiden, Aunt. You have beauty, education, and enough charms to get virtually any powerful man."

A new flash of lightning lit up the room, casting long shadows on the walls. Daella barely noticed it, too focused on the amused expression of her interlocutor, who seemed to find each of her accusations more entertaining than the last.

"So don't try to fool me," the princess went on, taking a step forward until she was only a few inches away from her aunt, who seemed totally calm and in control of the situation. "We both know perfectly well that you are not after Harrys because you need protection. You could get it anywhere else, with any other man, but you have decided to set your sights on him."

The last statement left her lips with a resentment she didn't bother to hide. Daella held Shiera's gaze, feeling jealousy and indignation mingle within her chest. She wasn't naïve, much less willing to stand still while another woman tried to approach her man.

Her Harrys.

It was bad enough that Gwyn Ashford was part of the equation, but Daella wasn't stupid enough to try anything against the young black-haired woman.

Whether Daella liked it or not, Gwyn was part of the arrangement if she wanted to stay with Harrys, and the young woman wasn't such bad company, at least compared to her own aunt.

"And I'm going to make one thing perfectly clear to you," she said, uttering each word with deliberate slowness, frustration and resentment guiding her actions.

The princess straightened her shoulders and raised her chin slightly, adopting a proud, defiant posture. Her eyes remained fixed on her aunt's, refusing to let the woman's mocking smile make her retreat even a single step.

"I'm not going to let you get anywhere near my man. I don't care what you try to achieve with your games or how many excuses you try to invent. Harrys is mine. I won't let you get near him."

Daella took another step toward her, further reducing the distance between them.

"Do you understand me?" she finally snapped with barely contained fury, the Targaryen flame within her roaring furiously as another thunderclap shook the fortress, so powerful that the windows vibrated inside their frames.

However, the princess did not take her eyes off the dangerous woman, determined to make it absolutely clear that, as much as this woman enjoyed provoking her, she had no intention of giving ground when it came to Harrys.

However, Shiera's response was... interesting.

Evidently, and as Daella had expected, there was no fear, respect, or any other emotion in her powerful gaze, but her expression slowly gave way to a smile of... pride and amusement?

What the fuck was going on? Daella wondered cautiously and furiously, watching as Shiera prepared to answer.

Shiera adjusted her hair in an elegant motion, brushing the silky strands away from her face with a naturalness that was as seductive as it was deliberately provocative and mocking. An amused smile curled her crimson lips as she fixed her eyes on the furious princess, regarding Daella's indignation as if this confrontation were nothing more than particularly rewarding entertainment.

Perhaps it was, the princess thought bitterly.

"You're right," she finally replied, with a calmness that contrasted insultingly with the fury of the young princess. "I'm beautiful, the most beautiful and desired woman in the world, even. A goddess incarnate. And men... well, my dear, you know how most of those creatures are. Weak in body and simple-minded. It's enough to give them a smile, a discreet caress, perhaps show them a tit at the right time, and they practically become your most faithful dogs, like my foolish and insipid brothers Brynden and Aegor" Shiera said with the same affection with which someone might speak about a pet.

Daella watched as the woman let out a small chuckle, evidently pleased with herself. There was no shame in her words, much less regret. Shiera knew perfectly well the effect her beauty had on men, and she had never thought it necessary to feign ignorance of the advantages it could bring her.

She found her manipulations stimulating and entertaining.

"And although you are right in saying that I could get myself a useful and powerful lover whom I could handle as I please, there is something you seem to be overlooking," she continued, tilting her head slightly and looking at Daella as someone might observe a little girl. There was a certain tenderness on her face, as if the Princess of Summerhall were a mere diversion. "Why should I settle for such a low-quality specimen when I have the most powerful man on the entire continent practically at my fingertips?" her aunt said, her eyes dilated, maddened with desire and lust at the mere thought of Harrys Potter.

Daella's face contorted furiously as Shiera's smile widened when she spoke those words, her eyes gleaming with thinly concealed lust.

"Harrys is young, tall, and strong. He's stupidly rich, he's got more power on his pinky than most kings could even imagine, and judging by the screams young Gwyn lets out every night, he seems to be an extraordinary lover, too. All without even counting his magic," she added with unabashed matter-of-factness, as if she were listing the virtues of a stallion she'd just acquired.

Shiera watched Daella's face intently, openly enjoying every little reaction her words managed to elicit. Her posture remained relaxed, almost indolent, as the storm continued to roar beyond the windows.

Daella felt her fury grow. Her body trembled with something close to hatred when she heard this... whore she called her aunt.

"So explain to me, dear niece, why the hell would I pass up such an opportunity? We're talking about the most powerful and important man in Westeros. A man whose influence surpasses even that of my own brother, the King. Do you really expect me to give him up simply because you've decided that he should belong exclusively to you? Sooner or later, Lord Potter will take what I offer him by the handful. I'll give him the fuck of his life, and I'll make sure to please him day and night, as many times as he wants, without giving a damn about the rest of the world. After all, who would dare interfere with Lord Potter after everything that has happened? My future by his side is assured. Wealth, magic, and power. What more could you ask for in life?" Shiera purred.

Her aunt's smile lost some of its lightness, though her gaze retained that defiant gleam which seemed to characterize her. She slowly straightened her back, assuming a much more stately posture without taking her eyes off the young woman before her, the image of a woman who had been forged in the ruthless Court of King's Landing.

"Don't be foolish or naïve, Daella," she said firmly. "This is a war, and I've given up enough throughout my life to continue doing so now. I've given up too many things, accepted too many other people's decisions, and allowed others to determine what I can or cannot have. Humiliations and insults from insignificant men and women who believe themselves superior to me simply because they were born from noble cunts. I'm not going to repeat that mistake when something I really want finally comes before me. From now on, I don't intend to answer to anyone, not even my brother or the Gods themselves. This body belongs to Harrys, and he's the only person I'm going to answer to. You can accept it, and we can both have a comfortable life full of pleasures, luxuries, and excesses, with both of us happy and eager to please our owner"

A flash of lightning illuminated her face, highlighting the almost arrogant assurance with which she held her niece's gaze. But just a moment later, that stern expression changed again into a charming smile, charged with a malice that was even more irritating.

"You don't have to worry so much, my dear, though," she added with obviously feigned sweetness. "Unlike you, I'm not selfish. We're Valyrians, after all. It's in our blood," her aunt purred as she licked her lips gently, leaving Daella paralyzed with disbelief and surprise.

Shiera tilted her head slightly, letting her hair slide over one of her shoulders as she stared at Daella with utterly shameless amusement.

"I'm pretty sure we can both please our man, take him to total ecstasy, and in due time... secure our places within these walls with our wombs."

And with these words, the beautiful woman smiled with almost insolent satisfaction, perfectly aware that she had just thrown even more fuel onto the fire of Daella's jealousy.

And she didn't care at all.

Before Daella could respond to what her aunt had just said, however, more thunder erupted across the sky, far more powerful and furious than before, all gathering at the same point on the outskirts of Potter Manor, with such fury that, for an instant, the whole night lit up.

The phenomenon lasted only an instant, and then... total calm. All the lightning disappeared instantly, leaving behind a serene and gentle rain.

As if, somehow... all the fury of the storm had been contained. But Daella's thoughts were interrupted by an explosion that erupted in the middle of her chambers.

A thunderous bolt of golden lightning burst into the princess's chambers, accompanied by a roar so powerful that it seemed to shake the very foundations of the castle. The sudden explosion of light illuminated every corner of the room, eliciting exclamations of surprise from both Daella and her aunt. The sound was deafening, almost terrifying, far greater than any of the thunderclaps that had accompanied the storm that night.

However, the princess's initial shock paled in comparison to what she discovered when the light disappeared. There, in the middle of her chambers, a male figure had appeared, whom she instantly recognized as the Master of this castle. The princess parted her lips slightly, unable to utter a single word as she gazed at the man who had just materialized before them.

"Well, just look at that... Welcome, my Lord. Do you wish to take your pleasure from your faithful concubines?" Shiera purred, slowly moistening her crimson lips with the tip of her tongue and devouring Lord Harrys with her eyes.

The beautiful woman's eyes swept with unabashed interest over the imposing silhouette of the young Lord, the lord of the castle, the master of them both. Her smile took on an overtly seductive quality, though even she seemed surprised by the extraordinary circumstances surrounding the man's appearance.

Harrys was completely soaked. Rainwater trickled down his black hair, down his face, and dripped from his clothes into small puddles on the floor. His breathing was deep and slow as he stood motionless in the center of the room, surrounded by a magical presence so intense that it seemed to disturb the air around him.

But it was the blood that immediately attracted Daella's attention and concern.

Her Master's forearms were covered with it. Thin reddish trails slowly descended along his wet skin, following the contours of his muscles until they reached the hand with which he held a wand the princess had never seen before. The sight made her heart tighten with worry, though her eyes were soon captivated by the strange magical instrument.

It was not the wand Harrys had used until then, the one that had previously belonged to Lord James and had been broken a couple of days earlier. This one was completely different. It was made of dark wood, black as night itself, its surface seeming to absorb the dim lighting of the room. Delicate golden veins ran along its length and moved slowly, like small lightning bolts trapped inside the wood.

The instrument shone with incredible power, trembling slightly in the hand of their Lord, who noticed the concern of both women.

"Don't worry. The wand has only just been born. It will take a couple of days to calm down," he said with a sigh.

Daella didn't need to be an expert in magic to understand that the object was extraordinary, though she didn't like the fact that Shiera looked at the magical object with an almost unhealthy desire.

And while interesting, the wand was the furthest thing from the princess's mind. Her concern was Harrys's condition.

Her Harrys.

Her gaze then returned to her man's face, though she couldn't stop it from descending momentarily down his body. The linen shirt he was wearing was so soaked that it clung completely to his torso, revealing with surprising clarity the powerful musculature that normally remained hidden beneath his clothes. Daella felt the heat immediately rise to her cheeks and looked away for a moment, visibly blushing, while her crotch moistened unconsciously.

Her body, trained to please her Master and Lord, she thought with a shiver.

However, that fleeting distraction disappeared when she noticed his eyes. Those eyes in which Daella could lose herself without difficulty were... very different from what she remembered.

The emeralds that normally glittered on Harrys's face were gone. In their place, two irises of deep gold shone with an almost unearthly glow. The princess stood motionless, fascinated and alarmed in equal measure by this transformation.

The princess was so distracted that she barely noticed that, behind her man's imposing physique, there was a second person, one with whom Daella had a complicated relationship of love, hate, and desire.

The young woman who would be Harrys's wife, the title Daella had once had within her reach and had wasted.

Young Gwyn Ashford.

"Gwyn? What happened?" Daella asked, watching as the young woman panted in a peculiar way. Her dress was soaked, but the voracious desire in her blue eyes was as clear as water.

However, Daella could not hear young Ashford's answer, since Harrys spoke, not in the common tongue of Westeros...

But in an unknown, elegant, powerful, and ancient language, one Daella did not understand at all, and even so...

A language that made her obey instantly.

"Prostrate yourself before your owner"

Prostrate yourself before your owner, Daella thought instantly and unconsciously. Her pupils dilated when she heard that language, something that also happened to Shiera. The proud and seductive woman lost all her elegance as, like Daella, she knelt in total submission at Harrys's feet.

Being instantly rewarded by a sensation of indescribable pleasure, Daella moaned like a cheap whore as she felt a magical current rip through her cunt, flooding her with immense pleasure while ensuring that her orgasm did not come, leaving both the princess and Daeron Targaryen's bastard sister like trembling bundles at the feet of the Lord and Master of the Castle.

And then Gwyn stepped forward, her body trembling but her face full of devotion and total submission to Harrys.

"Concubines, before you stands Harrys Peverell, Lord of Storms, Lord of the Noble and Royal House of Peverell, Archon of Archons, and Lord of Death," Gwyn declared before she, too, knelt before Harrys.

Daella trembled with desire, the pleasure building to such an extent that her mind became clouded. Even so, when Harrys gave the following order in that unknown language, she obeyed unconsciously.

Trained to please her Lord, her Owner.

The Archon of Archons, the ruler of all Valyrians.

"The Ritual of Ascension has been completed, and the family magic demands total submission. A long and vigorous night awaits the three of you. I hope you are up to the task, I won't stop until my seed is leaking from all your holes" Harrys declared, taking Daella and Shiera by their beautiful hair, a domineering, humiliating, and extremely pleasurable gesture for both women.

The night was just beginning.