Chapter 24: Some Worse, Some Better ​III

Even if he had been lying, even if he nearly killed our mother to teach me some petty lesson, one simply did not brutalize their own brother. I could feel the disgust well up inside me, a tightening of the throat which I simply could not swallow away.

But after what Aemon said, what he did, I could not have just let him walk all over me.

What else could I have done?

...

The light on my face intensified as someone lifted off my helmet. It was Maegelle, as it turned out, delicate hands pulling the dirtied steel from my head.

"You are apologizing to the wrong sibling," she chided, gripping my chin to get a proper look at my nonexistent injuries as she twisted my head to and fro.

"And you are fussing over the wrong sibling," I retorted, but she ignored me in favor of continuing her search. Satisfied with whatever it was she saw after a few seconds, she gave a satisfied nod before slapping me across the face.

I blinked at the sudden sting on my cheek.

I blinked again at the embrace in which she wrapped me a moment later.

"You should not goad our brother," she whispered, her forehead pressing into my cheek.

"It was ill done, I know, but…" My voice trailed off. Not sure how to continue, I chose to return the embrace. For several long moments, I merely held my sister as I struggled to find the words. "What should I have done?"

"The light of The Crone reveals wisdom," she said gently. "That helmet of yours must have blocked it out."

The two of us stood there for a while longer as our younger sisters hovered off to the side. The Beesbury, tragically, had refused to leave the yard and was now loitering between my sisters and where the three of us were gathered. And here I had hoped he would have taken a hint.

But as heartwarming a moment as it was, it was not meant to be. Partially because Aemon finally got back on his feet, meriting some attention with his blood-streaked face, resulting in a frightened scream from Daella. But mostly because a pair of white-armored knights barged into the training yard, earning the attention of each and everyone present.

"Your Graces," the giant Ser Crabb greeted us, his voice a deep and angry rumble. "His Grace the king will want to meet with the Princes Aemon and Vaegon."

"This is not the best time, Ser Crabb," I said, disentangling myself from my sister. Aemon said nothing, too busy pulling on the helmet that he had stupidly forgotten to wear. His shield, however, he left where it had fallen, a gouge in the paint scraping away one of the heads of the dragon.

"That was not a request," the smaller, quieter voice of Ser Pate said. Despite his steadily advancing age and soft tones, there was a cold edge to his words. "Both of you go with Ser Crabb and pray His Grace is in a forgiving mood."

Ominous.

Still, it would not do to keep him waiting. I did not bother waiting for Aemon before walking towards the exit behind Ser Crabb. As I tried to move past him, however, he moved his shield to block my passage.

"Wait for your brother," he said in the same deep rumble he favored. "I will not have one of you wandering off before His Grace has a chance to speak with you."

Before I had a chance to grumble about the lack of trust, my eldest brother walked over to join us, the top of his padded jacket already quite noticeably wet. Were it not black, the bloodstain would have been impressive.

Now assembled, the knight of the Kingsguard gestured for us to walk ahead. Clearly, he had no faith in our ability to find the way.

Being the obedient prince that I was, however, I chose to forgive the slight and forged on, quite familiar with the path to Maegor's Holdfast. Nobody tried to stop us, nobody tried to get our attention, we were rapidly shepherded to the center of the Red Keep.

The knight on the drawbridge seemed surprised to see us escorted by his sworn brother, but did not change our passing.

To my surprise, however, we were not guided to father's solar. No, we were instead shown the way to mother's birthing room. The door, guarded by Lord Commander Morrigen, was slightly ajar, and a pair of soft voices spilled out, though distorted and muffled.

Ser Crabb knocked thrice before all but pushing us in.

Inside were our parents. Mother was still abed, still looking weak, but conscious and smiling. Father, too, had an unambiguously happy smile on his face, seated as close to his wife as was possible.

"Your Graces," the big knight greeted the ruling couple. "Princes Aemon and Vaegon. You may wish to speak with them while I get the Grand Maester."

Without another word, the knight withdrew, leaving us to the tender mercies of our parents, both of whom looked quite unhappy to see us. Father merely closed his eyes and began to massage his temples. Mother, however, did not share her husband's incoming headache.

"So…" she began gently. The smile on her face was warm, but it was impossible to tell what she was thinking. "A brawl in the training yard?"

Someone had kept her informed, it seemed. It could not have been the Kingsguard, they had arrived just as the fight ended. A fight too short to allow one to run from their post at the holdfast to the training yard to Maegor's and back again. No, they had had someone else report to them. Perhaps one of the whisperers...

"Aemon struck me," I said without preamble, crossing my arms. "I struck him in turn."

The brother in question made a sound like he had more to say, but it quickly turned into a pained grunt.

"Aemon?" Father was on his feet in a heartbeat, ever the concerned parent, rushing to his heir's side. Then again, I suppose Mother was only kept abed by the need to recover. "What's wrong?"

My brother looked as though he wanted to say something. Even hidden behind an unmoving mask of steel, I could see those violet orbs narrowing as he struggled to form the words through a broken jaw.

After a moment, he reached up and opted to simply remove his helmet. Up close, it was not a pretty sight. His nose had been squashed flat against his face. The right side of his face had begun to swell, the hint of crushed bone barely visible, ruining his previously pleasantly symmetrical face.

"He struck me. I struck him harder," I explained in the wake of my parents' gasps. "Except I was wearing a helmet."

"You struck your brother when he was not even wearing a helm?" His voice had gone eerily calm. There was barely suppressed rage there, I knew, and a single wrong word could see me… well, temporarily inconvenienced.

"He struck me without wearing a helm," I explained. "I retaliated. That he was incapable of guarding his face was no fault of mine."

"Is this true?" Mother asked the both of us. I matched her warm blue gaze even as I heard my brother shift, heard the telltale creak and squeal of wet fabric. No doubt he was dipping his head, but I did not turn my head to see. After half a moment, mother continued. "Aemon, sweetling, would you be so kind and wait outside for Elysar?"

He hesitated, of course, unwilling to simply be dismissed, but there was little else he could do; Even talking was a challenge for him.

The door rattled shut behind him, and I was left with my parents.

"What happened?" Father demanded. "The full truth this time."

"He blamed me for Mother fainting. I accused him of endangering Mother for his own gains," I said. Repeating the exact insults was hardly necessary. Even so recently after having spoken them, it left a foul taste on my tongue. "He struck me but wasn't wearing a helm. I struck him harder, breaking his nose and likely his jaw."

It felt wrong to recount events mere minutes passed in such minimal terms. Aemon had damn near killed Mother out of spite. I had been willing to go a lot further in harming him. I might have avoided accidentally becoming a kinslayer only thanks to Maegelle's intervention.

The very idea brought the taste of bile to the back of my throat.

"You are so gentle with your sisters," Mother sighed. "But you are worryingly willing to harm your brother."

"I had hoped this tension between you and Aemon would fade with time," Father admitted after a moment of silence. "Clearly not. Clearly, your education has been lacking."

He looked over to Mother, who continued seamlessly from her husband.

"Your father told me of your ventures in the city," she announced. How delightful that Father decided to share that information. "The city cannot be trusted to be a good influence on you. If you wish to leave the keep, you will be escorted for the foreseeable future."

That... that was actually a significant detriment. I had been relying on my parents' hands-off approach to acquire my wealth. Luckily, Corlys could be trusted as an intermediary. Still, I would prefer not to rely on a man all too willing to leave for the far east in an attempt to make some more coin.

"Mother, I have arrangements in the city-" My attempt to persuade my mother otherwise was quickly interrupted.

"Then see to them with an escort of knights," Mother said. "Please listen, Vaegon, and don't interrupt us."

"You will also be spending your mornings assisting the master-at-arms with instructing the other squires," Father continued. "Perhaps that will teach you some much-needed restraint. Your lessons with Lord Tyrell will continue, as will your studies with your siblings."

This was all threatening to eat into my personal time, I realized, a pit of dread beginning to form in my stomach. I needed that free time to make money! And I needed that money for my plans!

"However, I do realize that I promised you a knighthood," Father allowed, as though that excused the sudden massive shock to my life. "And you will receive it. On the first day of the new year."

That was not long after my name day. Something was afoot, otherwise it would have been a name day gift.

"What's on the first day of the new year?" I asked, already dreading the answer. Whatever it was, it could hardly be good.

"Your wedding," Father said simply. "Oh, and the Grand Maester will have some more appropriate lessons for you by that point, so those will resume in the evening."

"My wedding?" I echoed.

Or it could be very good.

"Yes, your wedding," Mother repeated. "The betrothal will be announced in a month's time alongside the official presentation of the royal children."

A happy smile grew on my face. True, I felt like an idiot, but hey! A wedding! Mine! I was allowed to feel some joy at the announcement.

"I should tell Maegelle, I suppose…" I trailed off as apprehension dawned on me. "It is to Maegelle, isn't it?"

"What kind of monsters do you take us for?" Mother asked with a laugh. "Of course it's to Maegelle."

I could work with this.

Better yet, I could enjoy this.

...

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