after thinking so much about how rhaenyra idealizes daemon as a male version of herself, about her jealousy of the freedom with which he moves through the world while she is caged, about all the years she spent feeling like to be a woman was a death sentence (but he can shed an enemy’s blood in a fight while she has to bleed and bleed), how lost she felt without him (not knowing he felt the same) and how she thought she needed him to strengthen her claim—after all that, it was both satisfying and horrific to witness the moment that jealousy turned over. the moment daemon realized viserys never truly considered him his heir, never took him seriously. it was always rhaenyra. now they both know it.