Chapter 18: Dragonstone

Otto Hightower (107 A.C. First Moon)

Dragonstone

How long had it been since he set foot on this forsaken island? The last time was when he went to deliver the news of King Jaehaerys' passing. Now, five years later, he was back, hoping to finally put an end to Daemon Targaryen. If all went well, he would declare war, with Aemon having to kill Daemon and Caraxes, making him a public kinslayer. Perhaps even two dragons would be lost – one if Balerion was wounded, and if luck favored, Aemon might meet his end as well.

As he crossed paths with Daemon halfway across the bridge, he couldn't help but smile. Daemon, with his usual cockiness, held the dragon egg of Prince Baelon in his hand, and by his side, as expected, was his whore. A small bulge at her stomach betrayed her condition. The audacity of the man, accompanied by the Gold Cloak deserters trailing behind.

"Welcome to Dragonstone Otto," mocked Daemon, looking around at the group. "Your occupation of this island is at an end. You're to relinquish the dragon's egg, disband your army, banish your paramour, and leave Dragonstone, By order, off His Grace, King Viserys..." He intended to add 'and Prince of Dragonstone, Prince Aemon,' but Daemon cut him off, loudly asking, "Where is the King? I don't see him."

Chuckling, he replied, "His Grace would never lower himself to entertain such a mummer's farce." Daemon's smile faded, realizing that his provocation hadn't summoned the king. He smirked at Daemon, who, in turn, shifted his attention to Ser Criston Cole.

"Hmm, aren't you the one who got his horse by my baby brother? What was it, Ser Crispin, wasn't it?" Daemon mocked. Before he could retort, Ser Criston spoke, "Ser Criston Cole, My Prince." Daemon, with a heavy smile, apologized, "Yes, apologies. I couldn't recall." Ser Criston answered in kind "Perhaps my prince got hit on the head in the melee, by Prince Aemon, perhaps that's why you forgot."

Daemon's gaze bore into Cole. "My brother chose another lickspittle. For the wolflings," he said, injecting some anger into his voice. Cole's mention of Aemon revealed a mix of anger and pride. He thanked Ser Criston silently; Aemon was a sore spot for Daemon.

He intervened, "This is truly a pathetic show, Daemon. Openly insulting the heir to the throne. Are you so desperate for the King's attention that you've resorted to skulking like a common drunken lout?"

"I'm simply keeping with the traditions of my house, having a second wife, and also the succession laws of Westeros. I'm second-born, not Aemon, and I'm a man ahead of my niece and half-breed sister. Also, this dragon egg," Daemon said, displaying the red-bronze egg. "I'm only doing what my brother did for his heir," he added, smirking.

"The king named Aemon his heir, and the king's word is law. As for the dragon's egg, those traditions are for the trueborn children of royalty, not for common bastards fathered on a common whore," he countered.

Daemon, with disdain, said, "Oh, like my wolfling siblings. Those were fathered on a whore." He snorted at the sight and words. House Starks, despite their differences, had an ancient lineage. Any Lord or Prince would be honored to have a bride from such an ancient house.

"Stop this abomination and act like a royal prince. With every breath, you soil your name, your house, your brother's reign, and your father's legacy," he admonished, noticing a flash of anger in Daemon's eyes.

"Our love does not know titles and traditions," Daemon growled, looking at the pale whore of the pleasure house. "And what of you, men of the City Watch? Aiding the prince in his treason." He shouted.

"They are loyal to me; my brother named me their commander," he replied, aware that not everyone agreed, and some had already turned cloak.

"You come for the egg; here it is," Daemon said, extending the egg. He anticipated an attack but wasn't going to instigate it. "Are you mad, choosing violence here is to declare war against your King? You know your brother rides the Black Dread, and the king rides his Brown Beast. You would never survive a retaliatory encounter," he warned, noting a flash of anger on Daemon's face.

"Well, at least if we fight now, I can get to kill you," Daemon sneered. "You really wanted to fight with your child's mother so close. It will end with the child's death and the mother," he scolded, irritated by Daemon's reckless behavior.

"Sheathe the fucking steel," he commanded, and his entourage obeyed. The unmistakable roar of a dragon echoed, and from above, the Black Dread descended. The Yellow Dragon of the Princess and Vhagar followed suit.

Aemon Targaryen (107 A.C. First Moon)

The morning after

He lay in his bed, waking with the memory of the previous night as if it were happening again. He had done a dishonorable thing, breaking a vow he swore never to break again after Ygritte, though it hadn't stopped him from bedding Daenerys either. Even though the end hadn't been planned that way totaly, deep down, he knew he wanted it as well.

Still, he couldn't deny that he had enjoyed it. To be honest, it was something both sides had desired. Alicent was a beautiful woman, and her red-brownish hair reminded him of Ygritte. Alicent, even more than him, had wanted what had happened. She was to be wed without having any choice in the matter. Her controlling father left her no freedom, and he felt a sense of pity for her. She had cried, and he could see her gratitude in her eyes both during and after the act. Even some love she held for him, though he knew it could never be answered by him—just the love of a friend for a friend.

He had started to fall in love with both Rhaenyra and Laena, with the latter being a longer-lasting affection. Still, he betrayed the trust of both women. If the worst were to happen, he now had a song to sing if needed, an even bigger one if something else occurred. It would be laughably ironic if Alicent had disguised a bastard in this timeline, though Viserys hadn't spoken about Alicent to him. He wasn't sure why, most likely because he would tell him to stop it. But he could hardly tell to stop it. It's not like it was done openly and Viserys Guard and Kingsguard were in the king's full trust. So when had lain with her, he knew of her visiting his brother, and building a bond. At least it there weren't any other ladies, and unfortunately, if that were happen they would be an unknown player most likely. Alicent wasn't, so he lain with her both out of need and love for his friend. and my the this is what happened was a contingency plan if Visenya wasn't betrothed to Viserys.

His thoughts were interrupted when Ghost licked his face. "Ghost, yes, I'm coming. We're going to Kingswood." However, it seemed the wolf wanted him to follow. "Fine, Ghost, I'm coming." He quickly washed his face in a tub, donned a black tunic and breeches, and left to follow Ghost.

In the end, he reached the door of Rhaenyra's chambers. "In there, bud?" Ghost seemed to almost nod in response. Ser Clement Massey stood at the door. "Princess, His Grace Prince Aemon." He walked into the room and found Rhaenyra putting on her riding gear. "Rhae, what are you doing?" He asked as she looked at him. "I'm going to Dragonstone. You can't stop me. It's time Daemon learns he can't hurt us like this. Also, I don't really think Otto Hightower will be any good in parlay with Daemon. I'm surprised you sent him, and that father agreed." Rhaenyra said with her hand crossed over her chest.

He smirked, thinking that he wouldn't have minded if Daemon killed Otto; it would certainly put an end to his plotting. One less Hightower ally. "He is the king's hand, but true, he shouldn't have gone, Daemon hates Otto, just as much if not more than me," he admitted. A smile came to her lips, and he would tell her later why he sent Otto there. "Well, we are the only ones who can make it in time. With you and me, we can make Daemon back down. Perhaps we even have Laena with us as well. It would show the world we stand united." She said in response, Niece you're starting to become smarter. Although he couldn't tell her to let Otto die, that would raise to much suspension. "Very well. Well, it seems we have some traveling to do today." He said, looking around to ensure no one was in the chamber. He kissed her on the lips, feeling a sense of guilt towards Rhaenyra after sleeping with her best friend. After breaking apart, a small blush appeared on her face. "Kepus," she said in a high Valyrian, in a shy tone. He smirked and told her to meet him at the Dragonpit after he went to get Laena.

Dragonstone.

 "You made a difficult decision yesterday, but it was the right one, Aemon. It will give strength if a war breaks out. Although I can't say it will be received too well by your loves," Balerion seemed to have noticed his turmoil. "True, I have betrayed them. It will be a stain on me, much like I was on Lord Eddard Stark's honor. But honor isn't what brought Aegon's kingdoms. Honor brought me death. To be honest, this isn't the most dishonorable deed I've done." Oh, that was true; it was either killing Daenerys or making Gilly give up her baby and switch with Mance so the babe wouldn't be burned. Now thinking back, didn't the baby not being Mance's lead to the death of Shireen?

He sighed, reflecting on that time. Sometimes, he felt this was all a cruel joke, and one day, he would wake up in hell. All his new family would be gone.

Then Dragonstone came into sight. "Laena, you come from above; Rhaenyra, you will come from the gate. I will dive into the clouds; we have to close in Caraxes to make sure the beast doesn't attack." He shouted, and both his loves nodded in understanding. He dove down into the clouds, flying close to the water with Balerion when Caraxes roared. Balerion answered with a roar, echoing across the bay. He loosened his saddle, and as Balerion flew close enough to the brig, he jumped off. Balerion landed away on the hills, announcing his dominance with a blast of black flame into the sky. Behind, Syrax landed on the brig, and Vhagar, with Laena, remained vigilant for any dangers.

Otto gave him a look of complete shock. Ser Criston gave him a smirk. To be honest, he found out he had liked Ser Criston. He was lowborn, and they found they had many things in common due to his previous status as bastard. Ser Criston proved his place in the Kingsguard, and the other knights were honorably dismissed or took a place in the Oathguard. Now, with Criston, he had two, maybe three, loyal knights in the Kingsguard.

"Prince, my princess, what are you both doing here?" Otto asked after bowing his head toward them. "Ser Criston, please escort the Prince and Princess to safety," Otto said after receiving no word from them. Then, Syrax and Balerion roared in protest. "Be careful, my lords, not to startle our dragons; they are very protective of us," Rhaenyra warned with a smirk, and they walked toward Daemon. He gave Aemon a disgusted look, but Rhaenyra seemed somewhat more friendly.

"Uncle, my father named your brother Prince of Dragonstone," Rhaenyra began, speaking in high Valyrian as she walked up, holding his hand. Daemon scoffed at his niece. "It's true, brother; that's my castle you're living in. I know that because the decree is in the Kingslanding archives," Aemon said, his voice low and firm. "Tell me, did Otto give you the offer, or did you both have pissing consent? Sorry for my crude words, niece," he said, giving her a smile.

"You think you can usurp me, brother? I'm the second-born heir to the throne. Not you, no matter what a paper may say." He shook his head. "A paper, uncle; you have acted without honor, shown disrespect, failed to follow orders, and failed in your duty." Her voice was breaking a little; he knew how much pain Daemon's words had caused her. She had said as much to him in private.

"You have disrespected the king and angered him greatly again. Three strikes were the offer. This would be your last; after this, there wouldn't be any mercy for you," he said, looking at his brother with a look of fury. "Why is the king angry? I'm to be wed, making sure my child isn't a bastard," Daemon said. A sense of stupidity washed over Aemon. Then his thoughts went to Alicent; he had condemned a child to that life if it came to pass, all for the greater good. If his seed had taken hold in her womb.

"This required you to steal my brother's egg. You couldn't have picked any other; it had to be that one," Rhaenyra said, her voice harsher now with anger. Daemon looked at him with some mock shock. "You shared your cradle with a dragon's egg when you were born. I want the same for my child." Fed up, he punched his brother in the face. "That is for Baelon, you arrogant piece of shit," he said as Daemon stumbled back. His Gold Cloaks moved forward, but Balerion's roar changed their minds.

He gritted his teeth and spoke toward Otto. His anger slowly subsided. "Otto, come here; give the dragger." Otto stepped forward, giving him the dragger. "There are three of these—one for me, you, and our brother. It's a sign of brotherhood. Be kin, for one's do your duty, return to Runestone; send your whore away. You can send her to Seadragon Point for your baseborn to be raised there. Or send them across the Narrow Sea, where they can live healthily on the crown's pay." Saying those things about an unborn child made his stomach turn, but it had to be done. Mysaria looked at him as he said the words, giving him a glare before leaving.

"Uncle, we stand here as the next in line, the reason you were disinherited. All we have to do is kill us. But remember, this you will burn soon after our deaths," Rhaenyra said in a more aggressive tone.

Daemon gripped the dagger out of his hand and left, taking something else with him. He threw the dragon egg toward Rhaenyra, who gave him a smile. "Brother, I sent you a letter. I will give you the answer where I sent Mysaria, as well as needed passage for my men to Runestone." Daemon said, his voice full of anger, and a small piece of blood dripping from his nose, and walked away.

Aemon sighed in relief; perhaps there was some chance of redemption in Daemon's eyes. He walked back, and his niece placed the egg near her. She gave him and Otto a smile and mounted Syrax while he waited for Balerion to arrive. "I see you back in the capital, Ser Otto," he said, mounting Balerion, who gave him a grim look but bowed slightly.

Daemon Targaryen (107 A.C. First Moon)

He walked into the war room with the painted table, a silent rage bubbling up within him. He had been utterly humiliated; his brother had come, and with him came his niece and great-cousin. His gaze shifted to Runestone on the table, and he absentmindedly touched his sore nose—a reminder of the punch delivered by the damnable bastard. At least the boy had some guts.

His attention then turned to the Vale. It was his last chance, his remaining hope. He wouldn't go east; he would wait for now. Runestone would be his, even if he had lain with the Bronze Bitch. Despite that, she was still a bitch. Even if a bastard came from it, it would allow him to take control of Runestone. He would bide his time. What he had done grudgingly, in the hope that his brother would see reason, had been too rash. There was a small hope that Viserys would recognize the necessity. However, it seemed that Aemon had fully integrated himself into Viserys' head. Going to Corlys wasn't an option; even the Stepstone wars wouldn't be enough to pit him against his brother—the chance for his blood on the throne.

So, it was either total exile across the Narrow Sea or a slim chance to let the realm know who Daemon fucking Targaryen was. His eye caught the dagger, as well as the note his brother had left him. He opened it, and his eyes went wide.

Brother,

This missive bears the weight of sentiments unspoken, a plea from a sibling estranged by the twists of fate and the clashing of wills. We may not have been close, our paths often veering in opposite directions, but in the name of our father's love and our elder brother's affections, I implore you to heed these words.

Go to Runestone. It's not a suggestion, but a command born out of duty and a demand for you to prove your allegiance to the family that shares your blood. I understand the reluctance, the resentment that boils beneath the surface, but duty often calls us to places we'd rather avoid.

Consider it a chance—a chance to show that you can still be counted among us, that family and duty are not just words but principles to live by. I know the marriage is not of your choosing, and I acknowledge the burden it brings. Yet, in embracing it, you showcase a commitment that extends beyond personal desires.

If you decide to send Mysaria and your child to Seadragon Point, rest assured they will be cared for. The child will have a keep, a legacy to uphold, and a name to bear. It's not just about you; it's about ensuring the survival and prosperity of our bloodline.

Be vigilant, brother. The maesters hide more than they reveal, and the shadows of our family's history are darker than we can fathom. Aemon's fate, the mysteries surrounding Baelon's birth—they and Aemma's death demand scrutiny. I suspect a deeper conspiracy, a web of deceit that we must unravel together.

Choose family and duty over the surges of pride and vanity that may cloud your judgment. The time for reconciliation is upon us, and I hope, amidst the currents of anger, duty, and a shared bloodline, we can find a common ground.

With a heavy heart and a stern resolve,

Your brother, Aemon Targaryen

The letter made him angry; the hate he held toward the she-wolf and the betrayal toward his mother were still there, and now Aemon was heir—a slight against him, stating he wasn't worthy.

Aemon's plea struck him like a battering ram. It was a demand veiled in brotherly concern, a command wrapped in the cloak of familial duty. The mention of Runestone ignited a spark of contemplation. A chance, Aemon had called it—a chance for reconciliation, a chance to prove allegiance to the Targaryen bloodline.

Daemon's grip on the dagger tightened, the metal biting into his palm. He couldn't deny the allure of Runestone, a stronghold that could be his redemption, a seat of power independent of the Targaryen turmoil, and a place to grow stronger. The letter, however infuriating, carried a weight that demanded consideration.

As Mysaria's voice cut through the silence, her accusation hanging in the air, "Are you sending me away? I'm carrying your child, Daemon."

He sighed. What would he do? Sending Mysaria and the child to Seadragon Point would allow for the child to become a hostage. Sending them to Lys wouldn't allow that to happen. "I must. I can't take you to Runestone, where I will go. I will set you up in Lys, where you and the child can grow, and when I have more leeway, I will call for you," he said, and there was some hurt in the woman's eyes.

"You told me we would be wed, and now I will be carrying your bastard. We will become an afterthought for you, as you will become the moment the Bronze Bitch gives you an heir. We won't matter," Mysaria hissed at him.

"No. When I take back what is mine, I will order a legitimization for the child and marriage for us. My Bronze Bitch won't live long," he said with a smirk.

"You better hold that, Daemon, or you will regret it," Mysaria hissed, but he couldn't take it. As quickly as she spoke, he was on her, holding her tightly. "I'm one to take you out of the brothel; I will not be treated with disrespect by you. You have value, as does the child, but don't ever speak to me like that again. Or I will send you back there after the child is born." His tone was full of authority and scorn.

"Fine, I will go," she said grudgingly and left the room as he started contemplating his next move. His plan was to let the world and histories know who Daemon Targaryen was.

Viserys Targaryen (107 A.C. First Moon)

He sat in his chambers, looking forward to the night when Alicent would come over. Those times were always peaceful, and Alicent had been a source of solace during his grief. His thoughts wandered as he gazed at the stone dragon. The realm was suspecting a new queen, and Aemon's proposal was valid, even though Visenya was only eight years old. Otto, too, had supported the match but argued that six years would be too long for the realm to wait. Tomorrow, he planned to announce the betrothal between his brother and his daughter, with the marriage to follow in a moon's turn.

Heading to the council chamber, he hoped to find either Beesbury or Strong, as both hadn't been heavily involved in the marriage match. Upon entering, he saw his master of laws sitting and working on some papers. "Please, Lord Lyonel, remain seated," he said.

"I've come seeking an unencumbered opinion," he told Lyonel with a serious expression. "That's all I would ever give, Your Grace," Lyonel responded faithfully.

"I have an important decision to make. My brother has proposed a betrothal between me and our sister Visenya. I'm hesitant to accept the proposal. What are your opinions on the matter?" he asked, silently hoping for disapproval.

"It's a well-considered proposal, Your Grace. Princess Visenya is your heir's sister and yours, and would likely support him even if she bears you a son. She carries the blood of two prestigious houses—the Ancient Valyria and the Kings of Winter. It would also please the lords of the North, and Corlys would be pleased to have a part of his family as queen," Lyonel explained.

"It would bring the North in completely, considering the history of marriage between your father and Princess Lyanna and the work your brother has done in Seadragon Point. The realm has never been as connected to the other kingdoms as it is now. It's also a way for you to grieve for the late Queen," Lyonel added, acknowledging that the betrothal with Visenya would allow for more time.

"What if I were to reject the proposal?" he wondered.

"Considering the war in the Stepstones, it wouldn't be wise. The conflict might involve your heir, and strengthening ties with him would benefit the crown. The more you bind Aemon to you, the more House Velaryon will be appeased, as he has integrated himself with them quite heavily," Lyonel responded.

"I never asked to remarry," he stated as a well-explained reason not to accept the proposal.

"As King, you have a claim on all things, even those you don't want. Marriage isn't something you can put off for long," Lyonel explained in response to that reasoning.

"Your brother has made a calculated proposal, one that is fair and well-considered. As I said, it would allow for time and strengthen your ties with the family and the realm. With his calculated approach, he has laid out a foundation that extends beyond personal preferences. It is a move that not only secures your family's support but aligns the North and the Velaryons with the crown," Lyonel said, his voice low but clear.

"If you truly want my unencumbered opinion," Lyonel asked, looking him in the eyes. "I do."

"You should accept the heir's proposal and engage in a betrothal with Princess Visenya, unifying the realm," Lyonel concluded, making his opinion more than clear.

Just then, the door opened, and Ser Steffon walked in, speaking, "Your Grace, the Prince, Princess, and Lady Laena have returned from Dragonstone."

"Dragonstone? What happened now? Did those three go to comfort Daemon?"

His chambers

His brother and daughter walked in, both with windswept faces, confirming the report from Ser Steffon. "Your Grace," they both said, holding their hands together.

"You both disobeyed me. You fled King's Landing without a word, putting yourselves in danger, not to mention Lord Corly's daughter as well," he said, raising his voice to the two of them. Aemon, despite being his brother, nearly matched him in height. "Then let's not forget you acted without The Crown's leave," he added, looking at them both. He grabbed both their shoulders. "You both are my chosen heirs. You both could have been—" He spoke more forcefully.

"May we sit?" His daughter asked in a level tone. It wasn't what he expected, but he nodded and sat down with a sigh. "You two went to Dragonstone."

"Yes, we did, and we retrieved the egg without bloodshed, brother," Aemon said. "A feat I wouldn't say Ser Otto would have accomplished alone," his daughter continued.

He gritted his teeth and spoke, "Yes, well, you both are very much like your mothers." It was true; his daughter looked and acted a lot like his younger Aemma, free-spirited and all, while Aemon was Lyanna through and through. His father's dutifulness also came through in him.

"Aemma's absence is a wound that will never heal," he said and smiled a little when he saw Aemon taking his daughter's hand in comfort. "Without her, I fear the Red Keep has lost a light that will never recover, although Visenya and Lyanna's return do their best." Speaking Visenya's name brought the proposal back to his mind.

"It pleases me to hear you say this," his daughter said with a sad smile. "It's good to hear you speak of your grief. I wasn't too sure. I knew of the rest, but yours you haven't spoken much about it. Although I had others for comfort." She looked at his brother, smiling. "I'm sorry I wasn't there. As before, I know you are in good hands with my brother. Although I wish I had known better to know what to do in the aftermath," he said with a sad smile.

"Seeing you now, and you too Aemon, you both have grown. I know that you, Rhaenyra, know what is expected of me." "Aemon has told me about the proposal, father. It is also your duty to take a new wife," Rhaenyra said with a smile.

"I could never replace your mother, no more than I intend to replace Aemon as heir and break the marriage between you two and Laena. If I were to marry again, it would strengthen our line. Right now, you two are my only heirs, and Visenya is still young. Even Daemon could claim the throne through her if something were to happen to me and you," he said, pausing. "If I were to remarry, I would be able to strengthen our line."

"Your daughter understands this, brother. You should have seen her on Dragonstone. She defends me and you in front of our brother. She understands duty well enough," his brother said, ending with giving his daughter a kiss on the cheek, making her blush and himself a little awkward at the sight of the affection. "I do not wish to see us estranged, Rhaenyra." He asked his daughter, his voice filled with some angst. "You are the king, and your first duty is to the realm. Mother understood this; that is why she did what she did and the love she had for Baelon. I also understand my duty and what your duty is." His daughter ended with a bright smile, and Aemon gave him a nod.

The next morning, he woke with a terrible headache. Lying in his bed, he rubbed his head, trying to alleviate the ache. He noticed he was lying naked in his bed. Then he noticed he wasn't alone, and his breath caught in his throat when he saw who it was.

Rhaenyra Targaryen (107 A.C. First Moon)

She felt nervous; it was the day her father would announce her marriage to Aemon. It would be a relief to no longer have to withhold her affection for him in the open. She knew the realm would likely be shocked. Polygamy wasn't something that had been seen since the Conqueror and his sisters. But she didn't doubt that, together as dragons, their sigil, they would stand strong. Another thing she would accept was that her father had to remarry, and yesterday's talk had calmed her. Visenya was someone she didn't know well, but from what Aemon had told her, a wonderful sister.

She walked into the council chamber, donned in a wonderful gown of black with red and white, a nod toward her future husband and loyal white wolf. The thought of Aemon as her husband made her stomach feel funny. Laena was there and gave her a small smile as she stood behind her father. The maester looked like he knew what was going to happen, as Aemon had said much before the Sea Snake had signed the contract.

What surprised her was the appearance of Alicent. It made her feel a bit guilty that she hadn't told her friend about the marriage. She had suspicions that her friend had feelings for Aemon, but they never really spoke about it. They both knew at the time that Aemon would marry Laena. Her father stood at the front of the table, and as she looked, she saw the scrolls that would herald in a new law for the realm. One was the agreement between Corlys and the Crown, and the other was the new law of the three-headed dragon.

"My lords, when I named my heir, Aemon, I started thinking hard about the Targaryen line. It isn't strong; only six members remain alive today. So as of today, with the help of the doctrine of exceptionalism, a new law will be entered for the king and heir," her father announced, receiving intrigued looks from the gathered crowd.

"As we all know, my heir will marry Lady Laena. But it is not yet known if my daughter, and only child, will marry Aemon." There it was, the announcement. "Your grace, the faith will never accept this. It's wrong in their eyes," Otto spoke up rather quickly, although not in the most forceful tone.

"In that, you are wrong, Ser. The Doctrine of Exceptionalism has already opened the door. Also, this isn't for all members, only for the heir and king, as my brother said. It was meant to stabilize the succession. In this scroll is all you need to know. On the other, are the terms between House Velaryon and House Targaryen," her betrothed answered toward the hand.

"I will not hear no protest. It was already decided the moment I chose Aemon as my heir. Two days ago, Lord Corlys, Aemon, and I have come to an agreement. The crown will help fund an expedition into the Stepstones. It will be meant to control the future trade of the Stepstones and hold it for the Crown. All the details are to be made after the expedition," her father announced, giving the room a look.

Her eyes fell on her friend then, and it seemed she had tears in her eyes. She tried to give her friend a weak smile, but her eyes fell on Aemon, who gave her a sympathetic smile. Aemon seemed to know her feelings; it seemed, and she would talk with her later to explain. Why she couldn't have told her?

"May I be the first to express my congratulations on the marriage of the princess and the heir. May theirs and Lady Laena's be a happy union," Lord Beesbury said with a happy tone. "As would I, the doctrine certainly is law-abiding, Your Graces; it will help ease the transition of the new law," Lord Strong spoke up after the lord.

"Thank you for your kind words, my lords," Aemon said, giving the two lords a nod. Then Otto spoke up, "My princess and Prince, I wish you a happy union." It gave the room a frown. Otto seemed far too easy today; she had expected more pushback from the man. "Thank you, Lord Hand; I appreciate the sentiment," she said toward the hand.

"There was also another matter I wanted to announce today," her father said after she had spoken. Her father gave her a look, and she gave him a nod. "I have decided to take a new wife." But then she saw him look at Alicent and speak the words that shocked her to her core. "I intend to marry Lady Alicent Hightower. I will marry her a week after my brother's marriage to my daughter and Lady Laena." No, no, how, why? How could they do this? Why not choose Visenya? It was supposed to be her; she was the one she thought of yesterday. All those thoughts went through her head when Lyanna spoke.

"This is an insult to my daughter, your grace. She is a princess of the realm." Her future mother-in-law announced. "Brother, you can't be serious; I understand you are the king, but—" Her father held up his hand to silence Aemon. "Brother, I gave support before, with endeavors, now you will mine." Aemon gave her a look, and her brother before grimacing and nodding. Not much later, Lyanna walked from the room, closing the doors with a clap.

Her own eyes started to tear up, and she felt the room as well. She heard her father call out to her faintly from behind. She did not care or where she was going.

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