The Dragons Song

King Viserys watched his nephew with both intrigue and confusion. Aegon's actions seemed arrogant, domineering—traits familiar to a dragon. Dragons did not bend or kneel easily, and in a strange way, the boy was right to hold his ground. Viserys could sense that Aegon viewed his children as kin; he was sure of that. But why did he look at his wife as if she were something vile? The king noted that this contempt wasn't directed at other non-Targaryens—only at Alicent and Otto. *Did he inherit this disdain from Daemon? the king wondered, casting a glance at his brother before loudly proclaiming:

"Let us retire to the banquet hall to properly welcome my nephew. May this tension melt away," he declared, hoping to lighten the mood.

As the nobles prepared to depart, Queen Alicent stood, her voice sharp with outrage. "Are you going to let that *monster* dishonor your Kingsguard? I demand justice for Ser Criston Cole!"

"Justice?" Aegon III laughed, his tone mocking. "You speak of justice?" He paused, then continued, "This kingdom clings to trial by combat as if it's a fair way to dispense justice. Very well. When your knight is on his feet, I'll show you 'justice' as you define it. If Ser Criston wishes to challenge me, I'll grant him a duel. By the King's grace, I'll honor his right to fight for his pride."

The king and all in the room were stunned. Viserys looked to Daemon and Rhaenys, who showed no surprise at the challenge, only indifference, which left the king unsettled. His gaze turned to Otto, who frowned. Finally, Viserys broke the silence, trying to ease the tension once more.

"Then it's settled," Alicent said tersely, her anger still simmering.

"Otto will handle the preparations," Viserys said, quickly redirecting the conversation. "Now, let us go to the banquet hall and forget this madness." Trying to soften his tone, he added, "Nephew, I hear you're quite the singer. Perhaps you could grace us with a song for the court?"

"It would be my pleasure, Your Grace," Aegon replied, his voice respectful, though his change in tone was noticed by Daemon and Otto alike.

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Aegon III's Thoughts

My uncle—no, the king—is weak. Indecisive. Aegon mused as he moved through the hall. I was granted this new life for a purpose—to bring strength and wisdom to this world. Yet I find a Hand who is too ambitious and a Queen so paranoid that she sees a threat in me without cause. And yet, Princess Helaena… His thoughts softened. Her aura is pure, untouched—a bright white that sets her apart from the others. Her siblings may yet be redeemable, but this trial-by-combat law must change. There is no fairness unless both sides are equal. Justice cannot exist in such a hollow law.

The Banquet Hall

The banquet hall was resplendent, not as grand as the hall Aegon had once imagined, but beautiful in its own right. As he entered, he felt the cautious glances of the nobles who kept their distance. In moments like this, he thought, my appearance feels like a disadvantage. He noted the music playing and felt a familiar urge to dance. Memories of dancing with his grandmother and singing with the maids filled him, and he looked toward Rhaenys. Rising from his seat, he walked to the musicians and quietly explained his request.

As the music changed, he turned back to his grandmother. "Lady Rhaenys," he said with a bow, "may I have this dance?"

The nobles murmured, wondering why he would choose to dance amidst such tension, but Aegon clearly didn't care. Rhaenys smiled warmly, rising to take her grandson's outstretched hand. Daemon smirked from his seat, amused. He knew his son had a love for the arts—be it song or sword, he excelled in both.

Aegon began to move to the music, his body graceful and agile, his wings almost like flowing garments as he spun and twirled with Rhaenys. The nobles watched in awe, captivated by the winged prince who danced with elegance and charm. After a few minutes, Aegon led his grandmother back to her seat with a respectful nod.

Then, turning to Princess Helaena, he spoke, "Princess Helaena, may I have this dance?" The hall fell into silence, shocked by the bold invitation. The Princess rose quickly, her cheeks flushed, and took his hand, ignoring her mother's worried look. Queen Alicent made to protest, but the King's hand on hers silenced her.

Helaena was much smaller than his grandmother, and Aegon adjusted his stance accordingly. Gesturing to the musicians to lower their tone accordingly, he started a new song, a deep, melodic tune in the style of an opera, his voice resonating through the hall with a richness that left the court in awe. Viserys himself seemed revived, standing without the usual struggle, enchanted by the prince's voice.

As he sang, Aegon's gaze met Helaena's, and he felt the room blur away, as if they were the only two in the world. Helaena looked up at him, captivated, lost in his unusual, reptilian eyes. And Aegon, even as he sang, found himself drawn to her gaze, feeling an inexplicable connection in that moment—two dragons bound in a world that both fascinated and isolated them.