Chapter 33

Otto's jaw tightened. "Of course, I want to know what Aerion did last night. The king called for a small council meeting suddenly, and he isn't even willing to disclose the matter to me." His frustration was palpable.

"I can feel his defense against me in his eyes. And above all else, I want to know how he was able to heal the king. The Maesters are still in shock—not even a scar is left, and Viserys isn't just cured; he's returned to youth," Otto pressed, his voice rising with agitation.

Alicent's gaze hardened, but she spoke steadily. "I don't know why Viserys called for a small council meeting, but I was there when he healed my husband."

Otto's eyes flashed with anger. "Then... what took you so long to inform me of such important information?" His voice rose slightly, a hint of anger creeping in. "Do you have any idea what this means for Aegon and his succession?" His tone was now laced with accusation.

Alicent's frown deepened, her mind echoing Aerion's words from the previous night. She could feel her frustration bubbling to the surface.

"What of Aegon's succession, Father, when he has none to begin with? Rhaenyra is heir and has always been. I have said this many times—we, like all houses in Westeros, have sworn an oath to her!" Alicent's voice rose with conviction, her anger spilling over.

Otto was momentarily stunned by her outburst. He hadn't expected such defiance. He quickly recovered, though, glaring at his daughter, his anger barely contained. "You speak as if the throne is a matter already decided," he said through gritted teeth.

"Aegon is Viserys legitimate first son and rightful heir to the throne, But things have changed. Viserys' sudden recovery, his newfound youth—it alters everything. We must think of Aegon's future, of our family's future."

Alicent shook her head, her frustration evident. "And I am thinking of my childrens future, Father. But undermining Rhaenyra will only bring chaos. We need stability now more than ever."

Otto's eyes narrowed "Alicent, which part of our earlier discussion are you not understanding? The oath was before Aegon, the legitimate first prince of House Targaryen," Otto explained, his voice strained with the effort of holding back his fury.

Alicent's eyes flashed with frustration. "Before or after Aegon, what does it matter? My husband only has Rhaenyra as heir in his mind, and not every lord out there would break their oath like you," she retorted, her voice wavering. "And Aerion... he would stand with Rhaenyra for her right to the throne."

Otto stepped closer, his presence imposing as he held his daughter's gaze. "Alicent, I can assure you the kingdom, the nobles, nor the smallfolk would not accept Rhaenyra—a woman—as their next ruler." He continued, his expression growing even more serious.

"Viserys may be blinded by love for his family, but the kingdom isn't. They will question Rhaenyra, and once that happens, whether you like it or not, Rhaenyra can only secure the throne if she is the only heir."

"I don't think she is that cruel. I will let my children support her claim to the throne," Alicent said, her voice weak and lacking confidence.

Otto's gaze softened slightly, but his resolve remained firm. "You must understand, Alicent, the game of thrones is unforgiving. We must do what is necessary for our house, for Aegon. The future of the Seven Kingdoms may very well depend on it."

Alicent Hightower stood before her father, Otto, the Hand of the King, her eyes filled with a storm of emotions. "Father, please stop this. Have your ambitions turned you mad? You are asking me to send my son to a war that is unnecessary. Please, he is your grandson as well." Alicent pleaded, hoping he would stop his actions.

"We can't win this. I have thought about it all night. You may be right—Aegon may be seen as the rightful heir, but I can name strong houses that would stand with Rhaenyra to keep their oath. And above all, no matter how much you may try, we will never win this battle," Alicent explained, her voice a mixture of desperation and certainty.

Otto looked deep into her eyes, his gaze intense. "Alicent, look at me. Yes, you speak the truth. The lords would stand with Rhaenyra for the Oath or for loyalty towards Viserys, but what you forget is the fact that Rhaenyra won't be seated on the Iron Throne in a day or two." His expression was convincing and serious. "And she definitely won't be seated in another five years. During this time, in the majority of the houses, the next generation would take charge."

"So what?" Alicent asked, confused.

"Do you really believe these young, prideful men would bow to Rhaenyra, a woman, and accept her as the queen, especially when Aegon is alive and of proper age?" Otto asked.

"I will teach my son well so that he won't rebel against his own family," Alicent said with conviction.

"The lords don't need Aegon's permission to rebel in his name, my daughter. They will take up the banner and charge for him as they aren't really fighting for Aegon but for their pride that doesn't allow them to bow to a woman," Otto said seriously.

His words made Alicent hesitate once more. After what she saw yesterday and talked with Aerion, she had some hope for her children, but hearing her father's words made her doubt again.

Otto, a man of stature and power, looked at his daughter, who seemed defeated even before the war had started. "Why? Why do you think we will not win?" he asked, his voice echoing off the stone walls.

"Because of Aerion! We have no chance to win, at least till he supports Rhaenyra. No matter how many houses stand with us, we will not win," Alicent said, her mind replaying the blood ritual she witnessed the previous day.

"Aerion?" Otto's expression shifted from concern to disappointment as he raised his voice. "Alicent, have you gone insane? You're afraid of that bastard boy with no dragon or influence?"

Alicent stood her ground, her face determined. "Father, you don't understand. Aerion may be just as basterd as you say, but he possesses the lost knowledge of blood magic from Ancient Valyria," she replied, her voice trembling slightly but resolute.