-Chapter 69-

-Chapter 69-

-A few hours later-

-POV Aemon Targaryen-

"That was a very beautiful ceremony, don't you think?" I asked, more to make conversation than out of genuine interest, as at the main table, apart from the king, everyone remained silent.

'And how could it be any different, given that my parents are sitting at the same table as Daemon, who keeps throwing provocative glances at my new father-in-law, Rhaenyra is furious with me, and Alicent is dressed entirely in green.'

"It was truly beautiful," said the queen with a smile, clearly waiting for something.

'What a hypocrite,' I thought, amused by her behavior, understanding that she was waiting for Lyonel Strong to resign from his position as Hand of the King.

'The only entertaining moment in this dull banquet,' I thought.

'Uncle Viserys must have told her that she could bring her father back to the capital,' I thought as I saw Lyonel Strong rise.

"Your Majesty," said Lyonel Strong, approaching with his son.

"Lord Lyonel," said the king solemnly, already knowing what was about to happen.

"My son has dishonored the crown by killing the queen's brother. Although it was a tragic accident, if he hadn't sought to show off out of vanity, your wife's brother would still be with us, and there wouldn't have been…"

He searched for a word to describe the madness that had overtaken Rhaenyra and Alicent's followers but couldn't find it. I helped him by saying: "so much turmoil."

Lyonel Strong nodded, then after a moment, he said, "With this in mind, I have punished him by removing him from the Gold Cloaks, a mantle he has soiled. I also hereby tender my resignation to your majesty, as it was due to my lack of decisive action and objectivity that the troubles which have shaken this court were able to occur."

"Are you absolutely certain?" asked Viserys, more for the sake of formality than out of real inquiry.

"Yes, your majesty," replied the lord of Harrenhal.

"Very well, so be it," said Uncle Viserys, before adding:

"I thank you for the services you have rendered to the realm, as well as for your unwavering dedication to justice and House Targaryen."

"Thank you for the trust you have shown in me, your majesty. Being your Hand has been the greatest honor of my life."

'Blah... Blah... Blah,' I thought, bored. I had imagined something more dramatic would happen, making this banquet a little more exciting.

Lyonel Strong walked away from the high table, accompanied by his eldest son, who clenched his jaw, humiliated in front of the entire nobility.

As I returned to my dinner, mentally counting sheep before the banquet's end, Alicent Hightower suddenly said, "Lord Lyonel."

I raised my eyebrows, surprised, like many others, waiting to see what Alicent could possibly want to ask the man who had just "resigned."

'No one is stupid enough not to notice the poor acting of these two men.'

"Who would you see as a worthy replacement for you as Hand of the King?" asked the queen, folding her hands under her chin.

"It is up to His Majesty to decide who…"

"I agree," she said, cutting off the politically correct response that the lord of House Strong was about to give.

She then added, "But if only one man could replace you, who would that person be? Forgive my poor phrasing, who would be the one and only person for the job?"

I smiled, appreciating the audacity of this woman, turning my head toward Lord Strong, curious to see what he would answer.

'Will you submit or prove to everyone just how... strong you are?' I thought, laughing inwardly at my terrible joke.

Lyonel Strong, realizing that the queen wouldn't let him go without saying what she wanted to hear, finally said with a strained smile:

"That man is, of course, my predecessor, Ser Otto Hightower."

The queen nodded, satisfied with further humiliating the lord of House Strong, and said:

"I thank you for your wise counsel."

'Thank goodness we have this woman to liven things up; I was two seconds away from falling asleep,' I thought, taking a sip of wine.

As the father-son duo turned to return to their seats, the queen cleared her throat and once again said, "Ser Harwin."

'Oh, what a b***h,' I thought, so amused and surprised that I spit out some of the wine I was drinking.

Rhaenyra and Laena both gave me annoyed looks, but I ignored them, too busy listening to Alicent ask the giant:

"Ser, who do you think is worthy enough to replace you and deliver justice?"

Ser Harwin was about to answer, but she interrupted him before he could say a word.

"I mean real justice, not the farce you tried to set up, which led to the death of another knight, in addition to my brother's, a knight of House Lonmouth, if I presume," she said, throwing a sidelong glance at Laenor.

'She's good at this game,' I thought, watching how she tried to manipulate people by offering them a different scapegoat.

'No, rather another culprit,' I mentally corrected myself.

I watched as the giant clenched and unclenched his fist repeatedly.

For a moment, for the sake of entertainment, I thought, I hoped, I even wanted him to insult the queen.

'But he's a well-trained dog,' I thought, seeing how all his anger dissipated under Rhaenyra's inquisitive gaze.

"It is clear that no one is better suited for this position than your brother, Ser Bryndon Hightower," he said, bowing.

Like me, Alicent was disappointed by the knight's response, and she dismissed him with a wave of her hand.

'Mood killer,' I thought, watching the giant's back with boredom.

"You seem disappointed," said Rhaenyra.

"I won't deny it. I would've liked to see a final duel between Criston Cole and your champion," I said, adding, "without it spiraling out of control like last time, of course."

'Even though I've drunk a lot, I mustn't start saying nonsense,' I thought, remembering the number of toasts I had exchanged with the lords of the Great Houses or First Order Houses.

'Which will help me achieve my goals more quickly.'

Laenor grabbed the wine pitcher and poured himself a cup so full that he spilled a good amount on the table.

I raised my eyebrows, watching him drown in wine, shocked, as even I was starting to feel the effects of the alcohol while Laenor had drunk twice as much as me.

'Seriously, how is he still standing?'

I felt Laena lightly nudge me in the ribs. I turned to her, confused as to why she had hit me, but she simply motioned with her eyes for me to remove the pitcher from Laenor's reach.

'I'm not his mother,' I thought, grumbling internally, but I obeyed my... wife.

'It's so strange,' I thought, because apart from a few discussions, a few letters, and a good impression of one another, we didn't know each other at all.

"Where's the wine?" said Laenor after emerging from his cup, before burping in my face.

"You've had enough for the evening, my dear brother," I said, giving Laenor a hypocritical smile.

'When all I want to do is punch him in the face for what he just did.'

"Give me the wine, I want wine," he said, searching for his pitcher.

I didn't comply, so he stood up and tried to climb over me to grab the pitcher that Laena had moved to the other side.

"Laenor, this isn't the right way," she said calmly, standing to comfort her little brother.

"You stop me from talking about Joffrey, you stop me from mourning him, and now you even stop me from drinking to his memory..."

"LAENOR," roared Corlys Velaryon, instantly silencing his son.

'Well, there's some entertainment,' I thought, completely shocked by Laenor's words.

I took my brother-in-law's arm and said, "Come on, let's go outside and get some air, you really need it."

'Did I just witness the first coming-out in Westeros?'