Chapter 28

A couple of days later, the gates of Duskendale swung open, and the remaining defenders surrendered at the mercy of the victors. Crowds of people, weakened by hunger and fear, gathered around, watching those entering the city. The White Cloaks were the first to ride into the streets, guarding King Aerys Targaryen. He still appeared gaunt and pale, his eyes glassy, not yet recovered from the terror of his captivity. Every step of his horse echoed in the hearts of the people like the ominous beat of a drum, a forewarning of their fate.

Following the king, like a shadow, moved Aeryon, demonstrating his loyalty and the position he had managed to secure. The prince's face was resolute, while deep inside, he felt a surge of pride and joy. He could also sense Rhaegar's piercing gaze burning into his back. His older brother, who often did not take him seriously, now looked stunned and unsettled.

Above the city, two dragons soared. Solarex, Aeryon's golden beast, gleamed brightly against the gray sky. Balerion, Rhaegar's blood-red dragon, circled nearby, an embodiment of cruelty and strength. Their powerful wings cut through the wind, with each stroke emphasizing the significance of the moment.

The common folk gathered were filled with conflicting emotions. Some looked upon the royal family with hope, praying for their mercy, while others whispered of Lord Darklyn's betrayal and the fate of those who had supported him. Aeryon, sensing the tension in the air, braced himself for the events to come.

At the entrance to the Dusk Fort, the entire Darklyn family knelt, greeting Aerys. Even in such a humiliated position, their bodies trembled with fear and bitterness. A stout man with his head lowered stepped forward toward the procession.

"Kneel!" Aerys rasped, his voice filled with authority and fury. The man instantly complied. "Who are you?"

"I-i am Symon Hollard, Your Grace. Husband of Seyla Darklyn."

"Is that so, where is the squalor itself?" the king asked mockingly.

"My wife is currently in—"

"I don't care about your whore!" Aerys shouted, his rage breaking through his words. "Where is Denys?"

"H-he and Serala... they jumped from the tower," Hollard replied, his voice trembling. These words sent the Targaryen into a frenzy.

"Bastard! How dare he die so easily?!" the king roared, casting a wild gaze at everyone present. "Well, then you all shall pay for his sins! Seize them all!"

At Aerys' command, the nearest knights dismounted, drew their swords, and approached to arrest those gathered before the castle. The captives hardly resisted, merely crying out desperately, begging for mercy. Aerys reveled in their pleas, treating their cries as music, filling his heart with joy at victory and vengeance.

Once the last of the Darklyns had been seized and led away, the king slowly made his way to the main doors of the Dusk Fort. His steps were uneven, and it seemed that his body barely held together. The heavy doors creaked open ahead, and soon they reached the great hall of the castle, where the flickering torchlight cast ominous shadows on the walls.

In the center of the hall, on a small platform, stood a long wooden table and a massive chair. Compared to the Iron Throne, everything looked modest, but this didn't concern Aerys at the moment. He crossed the room and took Lord Darklyn's place, his gaunt face and glassy eyes unnaturally calm amid the tension.

Following the king, the hall began to fill with lords and knights, awaiting his next words. Aerys scanned the crowd, his gaze stopping on Lannister. The hall fell into a complete silence, as if the very air had frozen in anticipation.

"Lord Tywin," the king coldly began, his voice echoing through the chamber. "Rumors reach me that during the siege, you chose to wait rather than act. Your inaction endangered my life."

Lannister, standing among the crowd, didn't flinch. His face remained impassive. He understood that every word from Aerys carried not only criticism but also a veiled threat.

"Furthermore," the Targaryen continued, narrowing his eyes slightly, "I hear that someone here thinks Rhaegar would make a better king than I!"

At these words, many glanced at the elder prince, who stood nearby, staring straight ahead, as if he were in another place entirely.

"I fear you have failed in your duties, Tywin, and I will have to find myself a more suitable Hand."

At last, a muscle twitched in the seasoned lion's face, and he took a sharp step forward, only to have his path blocked by Ser Barristan Selmy and Lewyn Martell. Tywin looked at them before removing the Hand's pin and handing it to the knights.

Aerys, grinning triumphantly, raised his hand and beckoned Aeryon forward. The crowd parted, allowing the younger prince to approach the throne. He stepped confidently forward and knelt before his father.

"Son," the king said louder, so that everyone in the hall could hear his words, "your loyalty and courage saved not only me but the entire kingdom. You have proven yourself worthy of more. From this day forth, I name you Commander of the City Watch. Protect the capital with the same resolve with which you saved me. Your first task will be the execution of all traitors."

"Yes, Your Grace. It will be done."

Aeryon rose, feeling the weight of the gazes upon him. He bowed slightly and returned to the crowd. Though he appeared calm, his eyes gleamed with triumph.

Satisfied with himself, the king continued:

"Ralf Buckler, step forward." Ralf, unable to hide his nerves, approached the throne and knelt as well. "You were loyal to me in the darkest of days. The Crown is always generous to those who show loyalty. Duskendale is now yours. Rule it, and remember my generosity and justice."

The crowd buzzed with whispers, surprised by such a grand gesture. Buckler stood, bowed, and returned to his place, while the king, sitting on the throne, relished the moment of triumph. It was clear to many that these rewards came with a price and that the new power Aeryon had gained in the capital would shift the balance of power in the kingdom.

Soon, evening darkness enveloped the castle. In a chamber lit by the soft glow of candles, Rhaegar and Tywin met. The windows were covered with thick curtains, sealing the room off from the outside world, and only the faint sounds from outside reminded them of recent events.

Targaryen paced the room nervously. His usually calm and composed face was now distorted with anger. Tywin, on the other hand, sat in a chair, arms crossed, as unshakable as ever.

"This is unthinkable!" the prince exclaimed, stopping and turning sharply toward Lannister. "Father humiliated you, removed you from office, and elevated my brother! What next? Will he begin grooming him for the throne?"

Tywin sighed heavily, raising his gaze to the prince.

"Calm down, Your Highness," his voice was quiet but firm. "Emotions will not help us here. We must think strategically."

"Strategically?!" Rhaegar barely contained his anger. "Don't you see what's happening? Father has gone mad. He trusts Aeryon more than me, his firstborn!"

"Which is exactly why," Tywin said, lowering his voice, "this could work to our advantage."

The prince froze, looking at Lannister incredulously, as if finally doubting his sanity.

"Are you mocking me?"

Tywin, slightly tilting his head, continued:

"Your father always suspects those closest to his power. Until recently, you were his main threat. The perfect heir, who has earned the love of the court and the lords. Quite a serious threat, wouldn't you say? But Aeryon… he lived in Storm's End, and I'm sure he seemed to Aerys like the ideal son precisely because he was far from the throne—unlike you."

Lannister paused, giving Rhaegar time to process his words.

"Now, however, he will come to the forefront. Aeryon will be closer to the crown, begin to meddle in the affairs of the capital, attract attention, and display his strength and character. And trust me, Your Highness, Aerys will soon see in him the same threat he saw in you. Perhaps even a greater one."

"Why?" Rhaegar frowned, his anger slowly giving way to understanding.

"Because your brother has insatiable ambitions. He craves power, yet has no idea what to do with it," Tywin said coldly. "Aeryon will take every opportunity to promote himself, and when the king begins to realize this… he will deal with him himself. Or at the very least, create conditions that will allow us to act."

Rhaegar carefully considered the words of the former Hand. His breathing became more measured, though he remained alert.

"You're suggesting… we wait?" Rhaegar asked quietly, looking the lion straight in the eye.

"Exactly. Let your brother reveal himself. We will allow him to take steps that he believes will strengthen his position, but in the end, they will lead to the prince's downfall. When the time comes, we will be ready, and then you will take your rightful place on the throne."

Rhaegar slowly nodded, his face gradually returning to its usual composed expression.

"Perhaps you are right."