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Chapter 43

"How far man can fall when necessity demands." -From the Saga of Tanya the Evil Vol. 13

Otto had been caught completely off guard by the sudden turmoil. He was speaking with Lord Estermont about the dangers of Daemon's potential adventurism in Essos when the commotion occurred. He arrived near the end when Viserys demanded the hall be cleared.

Fool, better to let the crowd be distracted by the feast than to let the last thing on their minds be accusations and conflict.

Otto was worried and cursed his nephew in Oldtown. Yes, he had instructed them to steer the boy toward the arms of the Faith while subtly pressing the issue of bastardry, but not to make a public accusation! Daeron could easily doom Otto's family with a careless word here.

Why am I constantly surrounded by incompetents and failures? Must I do everything myself?

Jason Lannister, the spineless wretch he was, allowed himself to be intimidated and gave away a staggering amount of gold. He was now saying that, despite the ineptitude and the debasement of the Seven Kingdoms' repute that Rhaenyra's reign would bring, it was better to endure such indignities than to face the wrath of the Dark Storm.

It all came back to Laenor, the man who had utterly and potentially irrevocably doomed Aegon's chances of taking the throne.

I must adjust my plans. No matter how great a warrior Laenor is, much of the outcome will hinge upon dragons. If Laenor could be separated from Seasmoke, and I have Aemond slay Seasmoke after the King's death… hmm, yes, it could work. The might Laenor and Seasmoke displayed in destroying in the Dornish and Triarchy fleets no doubt stemmed from Laenor's brutal ruthlessness and tactical acumen. Vermithor is at least thrice the size of Seasmoke; it should prove little challenge.

Having at least the beginnings of an idea of a plan to right the scales made him feel a bit better, yet the dreadful sense of doom still hung over him as they waited impatiently for hundreds of guests to depart. The Essosi delegation appeared perplexed, and Otto could only shake his head at the loss of prestige the Iron Throne had suffered due to the King's hasty actions.

"Send the children not involved in the incident away," Viserys ordered.

Those who remained were Jace, Luke, Baela, Rhaena, Aemond, and Daeron. Otto's eyes flashed as he saw Aemond glance his way. The boy had the good grace to look somewhat contrite. The adults still present were Ser Laenor, Daemon, Alicent, six of the Kingsguard, Lord Corlys, who had only recently arrived, and Ser Gwayne.

"Where is my daughter?" Viserys asked.

"My wife went with my sister for some air. With the feast hall emptying, they likely cannot push past the crowd," Laenor supplied.

"No matter, she will be here soon enough. For now, we will settle this. Once and for all," Viserys said firmly.

Otto looked at the King and felt a moment of pity for the man. His countenance bore an angry disposition, but his eyes appeared almost lifeless. The joy and mirth of the day had utterly faded.

All this suffering could have been avoided if you had just named Aegon heir when he was born.

"Your Grace, given the… heated nature of any discussion, perhaps it is best that all be disarmed, save for the Kingsguard." Otto suggested with a glance at Laenor.

Daemon laughed, "You really are a craven, aren't you Hightower."

"It is unnecessary, Otto, my family will obey me."

"Now, Daeron, my son, both Rhaenyra and Laenor have stated that Rhaenyra's children are his. Rhaenyra and Elaena are both my daughters, and yet you can see differences in their appearance. Laena has given birth to both Visenya and Maegor, and the two look nothing alike. My dearly departed friend and former Hand gave birth to Lord Harwin and Lord Larys from the same mother. This childish notion that children must take after their parentage perfectly is sheer folly." Viserys kept his voice tight and controlled, but the undercurrent of bitter anger was keenly felt. "Who has told you these absurdities about my daughter, the heir and future Queen of the Seven Kingdoms?"

Daeron had a stubborn look on his face and Alicent was at his side.

"Daeron, please my sweet boy, we know you are just repeating what you have heard. You are oft in far-off Oldtown, taking lessons from Maesters who obsess over books. You travel the streets of a busy port where all manner of different folk from all corners of the Seven Kingdoms gossip and speak of every matter under the sun. Just tell your father what you heard," Alicent desperately attempted to persuade.

Daemon let loose a sharp laugh. "How transparent can this mummery be, brother? Daeron heard these lies from the Hightowers. Or maybe from Alicent herself, not some sailor on the streets of Oldtown."

"Let him speak," Viserys demanded.

Daeron looked the King in the eye. "Your Grace, I have heard sailors speak rumors of Rhaenyra laying with Ser Harwin. And her uncle. And a dozen others. I've heard she's slept with the suitors for her sister, I've heard that she's been with Lord Corlys, and I've even heard that she has lain with her good-sister."

Alicent smiled, "Do you see? These are foolish tales that our young child thought true…"

"Mother, I am not finished. I've heard it once, I've heard it twice, I've heard it near over a hundred times. I've heard it within the Hightower, within the Starry Sept, within the Citadel, and I've heard it at tourneys. It is on every lip, because the truth is obvious."

Alicent gave an audible gasp and Lord Corlys moved closer to the King and spoke.

"This cannot go on, Your Grace."

"I know that, Corlys," Viserys said with a heavy voice. "I have sought mercy for you in light of your youth and that you are my son. And you throw it back at me? Do you think you are immune to consequences, and so repeat these vile affronts that threaten to drive this family apart?"

"My love," Alicent began, "tempers are high, he knows not what he is saying. We have not been there to raise him; perhaps my cousin has been remiss in his duties in rearing Daeron, but let me explain things to him, and we can discuss this again on the morrow."

Ah yes, negligence instead of open treason, not an awful alternative.

"That is insufficient," Daemon said forcefully. "He has not only compounded his slander, but he has also included myself, my wife, and my good-father. I demand satisfaction, and I shall have it."

As Daemon spoke, Princess Rhaenyra, Lady Laena, and Lord Harwin just arrived.

***

​

Rhaenyra found the pageantry of the wedding well pleasing. Her younger sister literally shone with an outward radiance that matched her inner light.

Finally it is on display!

She found the shocked and outraged glances of the court an entertaining bonus. The shackles of propriety were all the more loathsome, given the tales of debauchery she'd heard. Harwin's younger brother had shared quite a few scandalous accounts. Half the court made use of brothels or lay with other men's wives, their lovers' actual husbands none the wiser. At least she and Laenor had an understanding.

Laenor had doubted the wisdom of her and Laena's dresses, but it was too delicious a notion to resist. Rhaenyra had not graced court functions in several years prior to the attack on High Tide, and it was time the Seven Kingdoms were reminded that she was no meek maiden. She was bold, she was Rhaenyra, she was the heir.

Though I must admit, if only to myself, it was mostly to tweak the nose of that sanctimonious bitch that married my father.

The feast was wonderful, with countless dishes, each prepared with exceptional care. The musicians were masters of their craft, and she danced in earnest—with Laenor first, of course, who proved quite able. Though they did not share a bed, theirs was a marriage of abiding friendship and joy. Rhaenyra could not fathom the people's fear of him. Yes, he was a mighty warrior, a dragonrider of impeccable skill, but what of it? He wielded his power with restraint. Daemon, too, was a mighty warrior, and while their time together was far from gentle, it had never turned deadly.

Not all possess my strength. They behold Laenor's exploits, and it fills them with terror. I am of a different nature. Cole is my enemy, yet I do not tremble in his presence. It is but further proof that my father was right to keep me as heir. I have the strength and the will to rule both firmly and justly.

When her father announced that Elaena and Kevan had departed, she was taken aback. She had wished to impart some sound, sisterly advice, and now it seemed the opportunity was lost. Yet, never one to be deterred by a setback, she seized upon Laena and Harwin to see if they might intercept her sister before she left King's Landing.

They knew they had failed when they saw the silver outline of Viktoriya on the horizon.

Laena giggled, having had a bit more wine than usual. "For a moment, I was confused. She appeared most like Seasmoke from a distance."

Rhaenyra squinted a bit; the dark night made it hard to recognize all but the most basic details of the dragon. She could see why her good-sister would say that.

Rhaenyra sighed in disappointment. "Unfortunate that we have missed her, but I can always impart my worldly wisdom another time. Come, let us return to the festivities!"

She was greatly confused when she saw the hall emptying. When she inquired of someone, they merely looked wide-eyed at her and said that some of the children had been fighting.

Instant worry sobered her earlier merriment and she bade Harwin fight against the press to get them inside. The people parted, but little time was gained as the hall was near empty when they arrived.

"That is insufficient," Daemon said, his voice powerful and demanding. "He has not only compounded his slander, but he has also included myself, my wife, and my good-father. I demand satisfaction, and I shall have it."

The King was about to speak, but then noticed Rhaenyra's arrival.

"And where were you?" he asked bitterly.

Taken aback and perplexed, she looked over the faces staring at her. Jace and Luke appeared angry, the twins concerned, Laenor resigned, Alicent worried, as were the Kingsguard.

"I was trying to catch Elaena before she made it to the Dragon Pit, but I was too late. What slander? What is going on?"

Her good-father spoke gravely. "Prince Daeron has challenged my grandsons' parentage and leveled further accusations against your conduct in open court during the celebration, including against myself and your uncle."

Rhaenyra froze in shock. Had Alicent put her child up to this? But no… she knew her once-friend well, and Alicent was barely holding her composure together.

Alicent filled the void of Rhaenyra's stunned silence, "My love, Daeron is merely repeating what others have said, not making the accusation himself."

The boy in question's jaw was clenched tightly. "I do not believe all the tales, nor do I accuse Lord Corlys of the act. But I do accuse…"

"BE SILENT!" Alicent screamed.

Her father raised a hand as several began attempting to speak at once.

"Daeron, you will not repeat that foulness again. This madness must come to an end. Who of note has repeated these vile tales? I do not care overmuch for smallfolk jealous of their betters, especially ones beyond my reach, but did Maesters speak of this? Septons? Nobles?"

"Father, you ask me to throw to the wolves those who believe the truth before their eyes. The Seven-Pointed Star says that…"

"I am your father! I am your King! I am commanding you to answer my questions. Speak, or my continued mercy will be withdrawn."

Rhaenyra saw avenues of advantage here. "Father, Daeron is loyal to those who have fostered him. The loyalty that rightfully belongs to you has been usurped. You know by whom. Lord Ormund Hightower departed this hall but a short time ago; let the confessors put him to sharp question. I would not see my daring half-brother maimed when the fault lies with the one who has poisoned his heart."

Rhaenyra thought this would have been well received. She had no wish to see a child harmed, nor should anyone else. The weight of judgment should fall upon the treasonous Hightowers. Even Alicent should have been pleased that her son would keep his tongue. To her unfortunate surprise, this was not the case, as nearly everyone raised their voice in opposition.

Daemon was angry that Daeron was not to be suitably punished.

Otto spoke out against the idea of torture being used against the Queen's kin to compel a false confession.

Alicent too defended her kin.

Lord Corlys warned that such a move based on so little but a child's refusal to speak would make every noble fearful and resentful.

Even Laenor frowned.

Rhaenyra felt heat rise to her cheeks. "How can all of you not see what is obvious before your eyes? What child cares for matters such as these? The Hightowers have long craved their blood upon the throne. Did you not once dismiss your Hand for badgering you over the succession?"

Her father shook his head in frustration. "Otto is my friend, and a devoted and loyal advisor. He has demonstrated humility, and has long since redeemed himself in my eyes. This entire time he was in King's Landing, and yet you throw barbs at him? Daeron's vile words are not excuse for you to settle old grudges."

Rhaenyra recoiled. "I am the wronged party here, father. Daeron is the weed; you can take his tongue, but until you destroy the root, more and more shall spring forth."

"If we are agreed, I can do it here and now," Daemon spoke. His words were simple, yet Rhaenyra felt a chill, for she knew he meant them. Daemon was not a man who minced words or made idle threats. If her father gave permission, it would be but a moment before the tongue was forever riven from Daeron's mouth.

Viserys turned away from Rhaenyra and grabbed Daemon by the front.

"I am King! Not you, and I have yet to make my decision."

Daemon glared at his brother. "Then follow the edict you made. Show the realm that you are a King, and that you will not suffer treacherous talk or betrayal – from anyone."

"The Queen has the right of it," Laenor said calmly, and shock appeared upon many faces. "Tempers are high. The guests have departed from the feast. Such weighty matters as law and punishment should not be assessed hastily. I am a wronged party in this, but I will not make demands of my King – I trust him to make the choice that befits his dual roles as King and father. It is not a task I envy."

Oh, how the realm misunderstands you, my husband. You became the Dark Storm out of necessity, not of want. You are not by nature a wrathful man.

Her father was nodding. "My wife and Ser Laenor are in agreement. What was the phrase my daughter used? Ah, yes – measure twice and cut once. I will ponder the matter, alone. In the morning, you will all return to the Throne Room for a private audience, and I shall render my decision."

He turned to go, but before he did, he gave one last look at Daeron. "You will have chance to speak; consider well your words on the morrow."

***

​

Viserys wrestled with the decision long into the night, so frustrated with everything. His plan to build bonds between the two sides of the family, leading to fostering and then a brighter, less acrimonious future, was in ruin. What should have been the greatest day of his reign had been filled with conflict and shame.

Perhaps it is for the best to just keep them separate.

The dawn had finally come, and Viserys ordered Grand Maester Mellos to attend, along with Lord Ormund Hightower. He hoped his wife had managed to talk some sense into their son. Ser Laenor had once again proven to be a boon to the realm. His good-son could have chosen to cow others with his might, but instead embraced reason and deferred to his King.

It was a subdued group that greeted him in the throne room. His daughter was dressed more appropriately, though she wore all black with only scant touches of red. Corlys, Laenor, Laena, Daemon, Jace, and Luke were clad in black, while Otto, Alicent, Aemond, Daeron, and Ormund wore green. Heated glares flickered between the two parties as Viserys ascended the steps to the Iron Throne.

"Prince Daeron, what have you to say?" Viserys asked, keeping the anger that burned in his chest from seeping too much into his voice.

"Your Grace," Daeron said slowly, "I have had time to reflect on my actions. I wish to apologize for my statements—to Princess Elaena, Princess Helaena, Prince Aegon, and Ser Kevan. It was a joyous celebration, and I fear my rash words marred the happiness of their day. As they are not present, I will offer my apologies to them in person, when next I see them."

Viserys thought it was a good start, but more need be said. Daeron looked to his mother and then back toward the King.

"You are the King, and your word is law. But I will not condemn others for speaking what they believe to be true, nor will I take back my words." Viserys tightened his fists, fury rising upon his features. "However, I will obey my father's commands and speak no more of these accusations."

When Daeron had finished, Daemon stirred to speak, but Viserys cut him off with a glare.

"My son, your misplaced loyalty to those who would commit treason is not an act of goodness but a betrayal of where your true allegiances should lie. I am disappointed in you."

Viserys stood, addressing them all. "I am not blind to the rancor between my wife and my daughter. I am not blind to how you divide my noble lords among you, making them wear colors to proclaim allegiance. At every turn, at every occasion, you both seek to drive a wedge that would shatter this realm." Viserys shook his head. "I am at my wit's end. My reign has never been more secure or stronger than it is now, and yet my family has never been more broken or heart-wrenching."

He looked at Daeron. "You have erred and will be penalized for it, but I will not have my blood maimed for the actions of an impressionable child. You will be removed from the fosterage of Oldtown." Viserys glared at Lord Ormund. "You, my lord, have utterly failed the sacred trust I placed in you. Were it not for your uncle's exemplary service and the love I bear for my wife, you would suffer greatly."

He took another deep breath, and returned his gaze to Daeron.

"You will be fostered with Lord Isembard Arryn. He is a shrewd man who has done well to prepare his nephew in the ways of the world, and I hope he can do the same for you. Your dragon, however, will remain in the Dragonpit until I am satisfied that you have grown from a willful and foolish boy to an earnest and astute man."

Daeron's face had fallen when he heard the news.

"Until Lord Arryn has reported to me that you are dutiful and obedient in his house, you will be forbidden access to quill and parchment. No ravens will be sent on your behalf, nor will you be allowed to see any letters from your family. I am also commanding the rest of my kin not to visit you in Gulltown. You will have solitude, away from the squabbles and lurid gossips of court."

The boy shrank in on himself but did not raise any objection. Daemon looked furious, but the rest of the black-clad group did not seem to harbor strong feelings about the decision. Otto nodded and gave him a brief smile. Ormund looked relieved, though that faded as he glanced toward Laenor's impassive expression, while Aemond was scowling.

"As your King, this is my final decision on the matter. I will have no more bickering over it, no more talk of it." He looked at Aemond. "I will give Daeron a day to say his farewells, and then you will fly him to Gulltown."

Aemond nodded, and Viserys dismissed them. Daemon stalked out, tight-lipped and angry. The rest filed out slowly, and Viserys held back his Hand. As they departed, Viserys's ears picked up Lucerys saying, "I can't wait to return to Dragonstone. I bet Arrax will have grown even more. When he's able to carry me, I'll fly with him every day!"

And so it continues for another generation.

He turned to his Hand. "Otto, your nephew would be wise to depart King's Landing with haste, but that is not why I have waylaid you. Too many people at the feast overheard. Have Larys find anyone who tarnishes my daughter's virtue with their gossip. Not anyone merely repeating rumors, but those who proclaim it or speak of it as if it were true." Viserys's face was grim. "They will be made an example of, and not just by having their tongues ripped from their mouths."

Otto bowed his head. "As you command."

"And Otto, while there will be no formal announcement, let Larys also ensure that all know my son was given leniency for cooperating with the crown and was foolishly repeating treason he had heard upon his arrival in the city."

"I shall see to that as well. Your Grace, for what it's worth, I think you struck a wise balance. My grandson deserved worse, but I had no desire to see him maimed. I am moved by your mercy. Thank you, and as always, I stand ready to serve in any capacity."

Viserys smiled at his closest friend and advisor. He often rued the bitterness that had descended upon his blood, but he thanked the Gods that, at least, they had given him such a steadfast friend to act as his Hand.

This dreadful business is at an end. The only silver lining was that at least my precious daughter had already left the feast before these events. Her memories of her joyous day will remain pure and bright as they should be.

Viserys knew that Elaena had grand plans for Golden Tooth and deserved time with her husband, but he was already missing her. Would a fortnight be too soon to request a visit? Perhaps he should give it a full month.

Perhaps it is I who should tour some of my realm. I could travel to Golden Tooth and see what the Realm's Blessing and her ideas had wrought. Hmm, a diverting thought, and I'm sure Otto can keep the Seven Kingdoms running for a couple of months without me.

***

​

Aegon was exhausted after the wedding and feasting. Well-wishers had to be handled properly; this was his time to act in a kingly fashion with lords who did not often visit King's Landing. This could be his only opportunity to interact with them. The pressure and stress of trying to remember details about every lord who greeted him had worn on him, but he thought he did as well as he possibly could.

Helaena was cheerful and pleasant, clapping along with the music. Their dance was more playful than formal, but it had caused no harm. With his wife being only ten and three, allowances were made. Elaena had pre-planned her departure. Aegon and Helaena had done the same, though they simply retired to Aegon's rooms rather than flying away from the city.

Sometimes I wish I could just fly away from it all. I do not yet feel love as a man should feel for his wife, but in time I believe it will grow. Would that keeping Helaena happy be my only concern.

At times, he wished he had not been born before Aemond. His brother concerned him. Aemond was arrogant, but his cunning mind and impressive skill with the sword justified that arrogance. He was better read, spoke other languages better than Aegon, and had the second-largest dragon in the Seven Kingdoms. Were Aemond the eldest born, Aegon thought the task of the Greens would have been far easier than with himself vying for the crown.

But what kind of King would he make? Life holds no special value to him; not even withstanding his actions in Dorne, he has ever argued against any moral principle binding the actions of those superior. According to him, only whence the costs outweigh the benefits for Targaryens should their hand be stayed from an action. It is the ultimate expression of self-interest unencumbered by humanity. I can neither allow my half-sister to reign, nor my full-blooded brother. Only I can save this realm, more's the pity.

He and his wife left their chambers and went to take their morning meal. They joined Daenora, who began telling them an outlandish tale about what happened after they left. But as his sister continued, Aegon's face paled, and he suddenly lost his appetite.

"I need to find out what is happening."

Helaena scrunched up her face, "So long as no one lost an eye, it is but a temporary goodbye."

I hope I will one day understand half the things she speaks. Does she mean to say that it could have been worse?

He decided to take her... optimism? Her attempt at reassurance? At face value. Helaena ever spoke what was on her mind, anything on her mind, but she did care and Aegon figured that her strange jests or fanciful thoughts were just how she showed it.

So he gave her a small hug and thanked her for the reassuring thought, for in a twisted way it was reassuring, which earned him a little smile in return.

As Aegon hurried on, he saw that his family had already exited the throne room and was headed back to the Royal Apartments.

"What happened?" Aegon asked.

"Not here," his mother hissed.

Aegon followed and soon it was just his mother, Aemond, Daeron, and Ser Criston.

They filled him in, and then Alicent whirled on Daeron. "Why not just do what you were told?"

Daeron's eyes narrowed. "You would ask me to let some Septon or Maester bear the weight of words they did not utter?"

"The Arryns do not love our cause. Do you think they will report well on what you do there? Do you think you will see hide or horn of your dragon, or any of your family? To think the Maesters thought you clever—hah!" His mother was pacing, angry and upset. "You are fortunate that your father is still so soft-hearted. A stronger King would have done far worse. Ser Criston, take Daeron to his rooms and see that he remains there."

"Mother, I am sorry for the trouble I caused, but may I please see Tessarion first?"

"No."

Aegon stepped in. "Mother, do not be cruel. He will be separated from her for long enough. If my brother leaves abruptly, Tessarion will sense it through their connection and become confused or dangerous to handle. But dragons can understand our words and feelings in part, so Daeron saying goodbye will calm her."

"You lot and your damn beasts. It is what provokes your arrogance, what makes you think you can defy all law and custom. If Daeron were not a dragonrider, do you think he would have dared act the way he did? No…"

Aemond interrupted, "But he is a dragonrider. Something you will never understand. Go Ser Criston, take Daeron to the Dragonpit."

His mother looked outraged, even more so when Ser Criston acknowledged the order, "Yes, my prince."

Like a fish out of water, the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms gaped as Ser Criston led Daeron away.

Aemond dropped into a chair and propped his feet up.

"Mother, you are acting erratically. Do you wish for your son's final day here, before being gone for years, to be filled with anger toward you? Be more rational, and perhaps your sons won't disobey you."

Aegon frowned at his brother. "Aemond, you go too far." He turned back to his mother. "He is right in that you do not know what it is like to be a dragonrider. The connection is not like man to cur or man to horse; it is deeper. This is safer and better for all."

Alicent's eyes flashed with rage, but she mastered it.

"We should not quarrel with each other, not with every hand already against us," she finally said. She smiled at Aegon. "You did well at the wedding. Quite the counterpoint to Rhaenyra. Did you consummate the marriage?"

"Yes, there was some blood and pain, but it passed, and Helaena said she had expected it and 'twas not as bad as her fears," Aegon smoothly said, his practiced lie slipping easily from his tongue.

"Good, hopefully she will quicken with the child soon. You must continue to show the realm why you should be King. Our allies will begin to waver if you are not strong."

She turned to Aemond. "And Aemond, it will be up to you to secure a match at Storm's End. Borros is a vain oaf. Flatter him, marry his eldest, and you will be the next Paramount Lord of the Stormlands."

"Assuming his wife doesn't give birth to a son, that is," Aemond replied wryly.

"She's birthed only daughters; most likely, she won't. But even so, Baratheon shares kinship with Rhaenys, yet he is not fond of the idea of a ruling Queen. Your task is to bring him to our cause regardless."

"I shall see what I can do, mother."

Aemond does not wish to wed someone he considers unworthy. Unless one of Baratheon's daughters has strong wits, I fear my brother will not accept the match. And Aemond will not be made to do anything, for without his dragon, our cause is done before it can even begin.

"What of Daenora? Can she bring us an ally as well?" Aegon asked.

"Your grandfather is looking for someone suitable. There is thought to match her with Qyle Martell, but this may drive away the Stormlands. Another alternative would be Kermit Tully and bring the Riverlands to your side," his mother explained. "Uthor and Baelon are too young, but as they grow older other opportunities may present themselves."

"They don't have dragons, so it will matter little," Aemond remarked. "I have read the lore of dragons and their fertile nature. It is possible Dreamfyre will lay more eggs now that my siblings are a match. Silverwing may also yet lay more eggs herself. If this happens, we must secure them for our brothers before the Blacks lay claim, as they just recently did."

Alicent nodded, "It will not matter much, for even if a dragon hatched now, it would be more than a decade before relevancy. But still, one cannot have too few of those beasts."

Aemond scowled, but for once did not seek to argue. Aegon looked at the two of them and held back a sigh. The path ahead was twisted and perilous, and at the end of it was the Dark Storm. No matter how many nobles were won over, would it even matter? But what choice was there? His mother had made it clear the extinction their line would face if Rhaenyra sat the throne. The very best they could hope for in that event would be exile to the Night's Watch and separation from their dragons. And given the recent events and the deep enmity between his mother and half-sister, that was likely too optimistic.

Win or die. Those are my choices.