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Nights in Dorne were a respite from the heat of day, though even with the breeze flowing through the windows, warmth could be found elsewhere.

And it was warmth in her bed she sorely missed, for the sheets were cold and lonely. But if she were to bed every man that took her fancy then her reputation would grow, and though Dorne would not care the rest of Westeros might. She did not need a trail of jilted lovers following her north.

But still, when her brooding was interrupted by a man's request to join her, she did not fail to oblige him.

He was tall, his hair a shade lighter than she may have liked, but he was strong-jawed with blue eyes. I've always been partial to a pretty pair of blue eyes, she thought, and his reminded her of a clear sky on a summer's day.

"May I ask how it is you know my name?" She asked, as he took the seat to face her, "Since I do not know yours."

"I am Ser Daemon Sand, my lady," he told her. A bastard, she realised. Forced to bear the shame of his parents in his name. A injustice, she was sure. "And I'm afraid you're the talk of Dorne. Or, at least Sunspear."

"Oh, really." She replied, placing her elbow on the table, laying her chin on top of her knuckles, "And what is it they say of me?"

"Mostly, they talk of your beauty. I suppose not many know you well enough to talk of anything else." Daemon said, "Though, many share wild stories about your life before Dorne."

"What do these wild stories entail?" She asked, "I would very much like to know the past that has been created for me."

"I heard that you came here to seduce Prince Doran," he said, a small smile forming in the corner of his mouth, "That you were trained either in the pleasure houses of Lys, or on the Summer Isles. Is there any truth in any of that?"

"Wouldn't you like to know." Layla said, raising an eyebrow at him, slyly grinning over the cup of wine she pressed to her lips. Dornish Red was delightful, almost as much as the wine of the Summer Isles. "Fear not, I have no desire for your Prince."

At least, not the prince that he spoke of. Though, if the rumours she had heard were true, Dadmin himself was no stranger to such desires.

"Then why are you in Dorne?" He asked, perhaps with more suspicion than intended, but that was something one becomes accustomed to when they are forever the foreigner

"I like to travel, to learn, to meet new people and see new things." She explained, "It is such a shame so many see so little of the world. It is a vast and wondrous place."

"Prince Oberyn said something similar to me once." Daemon said, seemingly satisfied with the answer, "Will you tell me where you're from?"

"And ruin my mystery," she said, "No I think not. But," she continued, leaning forward, "I will give you one question, to which I will answer truthfully to the best of my ability."

She knew she might regret this offer if his question was not to her liking. And even though she could always lie, she had given her word. If there was one thing she did not do, it was break her word. To a certain extent.

"What do you want?"

It was a simple question, but there was no simple answer, nor had there been one for most of her life. There were too many things that she wanted, and all in conflict with each other. A part of her wanted to live in a house by the sea, with a man who loved her, and children to cherish. Another part wanted adventures and thirsted for experience. And the last part, wanted power and status, to lead and rule.

What was one to do when they wanted everything that life could offer?

"I don't know." She admitted, "But does anyone really?"

"I do."

All he needed to do was flick his eyes to her lips to tell her exactly what he wanted. And she wanted it too. Kiss me, she pleaded, kiss me, love me, I need you, I want you.

It was an agonising wait for his lips to meet hers, but if this was what he wanted then he would come to her. This kiss was slow at first, until she gripped the back of his head to pull him closer. It seemed this was all the encouragement he needed, for the kiss grew more hurried, and wanted nothing more than to flick away the table that lay as a barrier them.

But then he pulled away, leaving her lips cold.

"Forgive me, my lady," he said, "That was improper."

"There is nothing to forgive." She assured him, reaching out to take his hand, "Have your wants now been satisfied?"

"No." Daemon answered, "I want to kiss you until all you want are my kisses."

"A noble quest indeed." She said with a sly grin, "My noble knight."