"Viserys."
"Kneel here."
Upon hearing his mother's request, the silver-haired boy hesitated for a moment.
However, neither Maester Daniel seated beside the throne nor Steward Daevi Sand showed the slightest surprise.
News from King's Landing had gradually trickled in. As Queen Rhaella and Viserys set sail away from Westeros, King's Landing had already fallen.
Lord Tywin led 12,000 soldiers under the pretense of loyalty to the king, only to be rebuffed by King Aerys II.
Grand Maester Pycelle, siding against Master of Whispers Varys, persuaded the king to open the gates and welcome the Westerlands' army into the city.
But as the gates of King's Landing opened wide and the Lannister army entered, the previously loyal and submissive Lord of Casterly Rock suddenly turned, ordering his troops to sack the city in the name of Robert Baratheon.
The city, never before breached by an external force, fell once again from within.
King Aerys II, still in King's Landing, was now of uncertain fate. No concrete news had come through, but his prospects seemed grim.
Hence, it wasn't difficult to understand Queen Rhaella's sudden decision.
"Your Grace."
At this point, the elderly maester seated nearby spoke up, then, trembling, stood with the help of his chair.
"If you wish to crown His Highness, we must follow the will of the Seven."
The coronation of a new king was a significant event, requiring an intricate ceremony. First and foremost, there had to be a proper cathedral. In the Targaryen dynasty, most kings were crowned in the Great Sept of Baelor.
On Dragonstone, there was indeed a sept, where, it was said, Aegon the Conqueror had knelt and prayed the night before sailing to conquer the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros.
However, according to Targaryen family records, this was hardly credible, as Aegon only converted to the Faith of the Seven after reaching Oldtown during his conquest.
Thus, the sept must have been built after the conquest.
But a cathedral alone was not enough for a new king's coronation.
The High Septon and several High Septons had to jointly conduct the coronation ceremony, which involved anointing with holy oil, reciting blessings, and more...
But impoverished Dragonstone, though possessing a sept, had little else – even Septonss and nuns were scarce, let alone High Septons and the High Septon.
Upon hearing Maester Daniel's words, Queen Rhaella appeared momentarily lost, then lowered her head and rubbed her brow.
"I apologize, Maester Daniel."
"I lost my composure."
Though the silver-haired woman appeared strong, the pain of a shattered kingdom and lost family gnawed at her like ants, leaving her somewhat disoriented.
All she wanted was to pass on the crown to her child and maintain that small flame of hope in her heart.
The Targaryen dynasty would not crumble in her generation.
"In that case, let us go to the sept."
The old handmaid helped Queen Rhaella up, while Ser Daevi Sand, sitting on the other side, leaned on his sword as he stood and spoke.
"Your Grace, I shall fetch a Septons."
"There's no need to find those Septons."
"Ser."
Nevertheless, the steward's proposal was immediately rejected by the silver-haired woman.
Queen Rhaella stood before the central seat of the round table, gazing at the gathered crowd. The golden crown embedded with a ruby at its center shimmered with dazzling brilliance under the torchlight.
Taking a deep breath to gather her spirits, she spoke.
"Now is a crucial time."
"I will crown Viserys under the watchful gaze of the Seven."
...
Inside the Dragonstone Sept, there were statues of the Seven Gods.
And at this moment, Viserys knelt before the statues, his mother, Queen Rhaella Targaryen, standing beside him.
Donning a new gown of black velvet, the queen appeared even more regal. Her slender, graceful figure was adorned with her long silver hair that cascaded down her waist. One hand rested on Viserys's head while the other held a written oath penned by Maester Daniel, her voice solemn as she recited the words.
"This feeling..."
Viserys knelt on the ground, feeling inexplicably uneasy, as if he were stripped naked and scrutinized by onlookers.
In the vast Sept, Queen Rhaella read the oath for her son, while Maester Daniel, Ser Sand, and others stood at a distance, witnessing the event.
As for the focus of everyone's gaze, the silver-haired boy seemed restless, squirming.
Then Rhaella held him still with her hand.
"Do you vow to bear a heart of kindness..."
His mother's voice resonated from above.
Viserys, however, felt his breathing grow somewhat labored. His face flushed, undetected by others, as if his blood was set ablaze within.
He heard his mother's words and could only nod blankly, saying "I vow," while raising his bewildered eyes to survey his surroundings.
The towering statues of the Seven Gods looked down upon the small folk below.
In Dragonstone's Sept, the Crone's eyes were pearls, the Father's beard gilded, and the Stranger resembled an animal more than a human.
The statues had been carved from the masts of ships, the very vessels that carried the ancestors of House Targaryen from Valyria across the sea. For centuries, they had been coated with layers of paint, gilded, silvered, and adorned with jewels.
There were also several altars in the Sept, painted glass reflecting dazzling light under the torch's glow.
"So hot..."
Viserys felt a burning sensation as his palms pressed against the Sept's floor, as if he were in a great furnace, flames consuming all.
"No..."
"Scorching."
Yet, no one around him seemed to share this sensation. Viserys alone was the exception.
"What is going on?"
"Why do I feel this way under the gaze of the Seven?"
Viserys was perplexed, yet his temperature continued to rise.
He knew the importance of the coronation ceremony and tried to maintain composure, concealing his abnormal state.
However, his breathing grew increasingly rapid with time. Viserys felt as if he were being melted by fire, his skin, muscles, blood, organs, and bones burned to cinders, eventually turning to ash.
And at that moment,
Queen Rhaella's lengthy oath finally came to an end.
Following this, the silver-haired woman removed the ruby-encrusted golden crown from her head and slowly placed it upon Viserys's.
"From this day forth,"
"My child..."
"You are the King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, the rightful ruler and protector of the Seven Kingdoms Viserys Targaryen the Third."
(To be continued.)