Chapter 7

As the day winds down, Daemon's mind returns to Jaehaerys' mention of "mitigating the damage" concerning Alicent Hightower. He turns to Jaehaerys, his curiosity piqued.

"Jae, earlier you mentioned 'mitigating the damage' regarding Alicent Hightower," Daemon said, his tone curious. "Could you elaborate on what you meant by that?"

Jaehaerys responds with a cryptic smile, "There are ways to counter Otto Hightower's manipulations. Rest assured, I have my own strategies in place to ensure that Alicent's influence doesn't sway Viserys too much."

Jaehaerys explains, "Otto's entire plan hinges on the assumption that Alicent will bear Viserys a son. His assumption is that if that were to happen, Viserys would undoubtedly name his son as the Heir to the Iron Throne, securing House Hightower's position in the realm."

Daemon nods thoughtfully, absorbing the implications of Jaehaerys' words. "So, if we can disrupt this plan, it could prevent further complications," he muses, his mind already racing with potential strategies.

"During my travels," Jaehaerys begins, "I encountered a family with shockingly red hair. They had been cursed by an enemy so that the mother, whose heart's greatest desire was to have a daughter, bore six sons before a daughter was born."

"I found their predicament fascinating and studied the curse in-depth," he explained. "After much painstaking research, I managed to find the basis of the curse, a potion that the mother had unknowingly drank."

Daemon asked, puzzled, "But if this potion increased the chances of a son being born in the original family, how would it help us prevent the birth of a son?"

Jaehaerys replied, "The potion would need to be tweaked so that it ensures only girls are born to Viserys and Alicent. A boy would be born, but only after Rhaenya and I are long married and have already had an heir of our own."

Daemon's initial shock at learning about Jaehaerys and Rhaenyra's betrothal quickly gave way to a subtle pang of disappointment. His heart, which had harbored feelings for Rhaenyra, felt a twinge of regret at the news. Swiftly, he masked his emotions behind a veneer of forced pleasure, attempting to conceal his inner turmoil.

However, Jaehaerys, noticing the fleeting expression of disappointment on Daemon's face, couldn't help but address it. "Daemon," he said, his tone gentle yet probing, "is there something on your mind regarding Rhaenyra?"

Daemon, caught off guard, hesitated for a moment before composing himself. "No, Jaehaerys, of course not," he replied, forcing a smile. "I'm genuinely pleased for you both. It's just... unexpected news, that's all." His attempt to mask his true feelings fell short as a hint of longing lingered in his eyes.

Jaehaerys, with a knowing look, reached out a hand towards Daemon's shoulder. "You don't need to hide your feelings from me, Daemon," he said softly. "I can see it in your eyes. Please, don't make me delve into your thoughts. Just speak your mind openly."

Daemon sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping with resignation. "It's true, I do feel an attraction towards Rhaenyra," he admitted, his voice tinged with regret. "However, Rhaenyra deserves someone stable, someone who can give her the love and support she needs without the chaos that follows me wherever I go. You are that person, and I... I wouldn't want to burden her with my tumultuous nature."

Jaehaerys places a comforting hand on Daemon's shoulder, his expression understanding. "Your concern for Rhaenyra's well-being speaks volumes of your character, Daemon," he says softly. "She is fortunate to have someone like you who cares for her deeply. And rest assured, you will always have a place in our lives."

Daemon chuckles, attempting to lighten the mood. "Well, if Viserys ever finds out we've had a hand in giving him six more daughters, he might just declare war on us himself," he jokes, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Jaehaerys chuckles, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Well, perhaps Viserys shouldn't have dipped his wick in Hightower honey then," he quips, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

Their laughter echoes through the room.

—

After bidding Daemon farewell, Jaehaerys returns back to Kingslanding.

As Jaehaerys dismounts from Gaelithox's back, his eyes sweep across the courtyard until they land on Rhaenyra and Ser Harrold Westerling standing by the carriage. The familiar sight of Rhaenyra fills him with warmth, and a soft smile curves his lips.

Striding over to them, Jaehaerys's boots echo against the cobblestones. His demeanor is composed yet welcoming as he nears Rhaenyra and Ser Harrold, a sense of anticipation lingering in the air. "Lady Rhaenyra, Ser Harrold," he greets them with a nod of his head, his voice carrying a hint of curiosity. "What brings you both here?"

Rhaenyra, her cheeks tinged with a faint blush, speaks up, her voice gentle yet determined. "Since you seemed to enjoy my company on the ride from the Red Keep to the dragonpit, I thought I might enjoy yours on the journey back to the Red Keep."

Jaehaerys smiles warmly at Rhaenyra's invitation. "I would be honored to accompany you, my lady," he replies graciously.

Jaehaerys and Rhaenyra settle into the comfortable interior of the carriage, their proximity allowing for whispered conversations and stolen glances. Ser Harrold, ever vigilant, follows closely on horseback, ensuring their safety as they make their way back to the Red Keep.

Rhaenyra leans in, her eyes alight with curiosity, and asks, "So, how was your reunion with Daemon?"

As Rhaenyra leans in close, Jaehaerys notices the delicate fragrance of her perfume, a subtle blend of floral and citrus notes. The scent envelops him, adding to the warmth of the moment as they share this intimate space in the carriage.

Jaehaerys begins recounting his reunion with Daemon, his voice filled with a mix of nostalgia and excitement as he shares the details of their encounter. He describes the joy of seeing his brother again after so many years, the moments they shared, and the plans they discussed for the future. As he speaks, his eyes sparkle with fond memories, and he can't help but smile at the thought of their reunion.

As Jaehaerys speaks, Rhaenyra listens intently, captivated by the pleasant timbre of his voice. She finds herself drawn to his words, hanging on every detail of his reunion with Daemon. There's something comforting about the way he narrates the story, and she can't help but feel a sense of warmth and connection as she listens.

She finds herself experiencing a strange mix of emotions. Despite having only met Jaehaerys the day before, she feels a sense of comfort and connection with him that she can't quite explain. There's something about his presence, his voice, and the way he carries himself that draws her in. She finds herself wondering why she feels this way about her betrothed, especially considering their brief acquaintance. It's a puzzling sensation, one that she can't easily dismiss.

At the same time, Jaehaerys finds his own thoughts drifting to Rhaenyra. There's something captivating about her presence, her intelligence, and her fiery spirit that draws him in. Despite the circumstances of their betrothal and their limited time together, he can't deny the growing attraction he feels towards her. He finds himself contemplating the possibility of a future with Rhaenyra, wondering what adventures and challenges they might face together. It's a prospect that both excites and unsettles him, but he knows that whatever lies ahead, he wants her by his side.

Rhaenyra's hand trembles slightly as she extends it towards Jaehaerys, a mix of nervousness and anticipation coursing through her veins. She can feel her heart pounding in her chest, unsure of what his reaction will be. As her fingertips brush against his, she feels a jolt of electricity, a spark igniting between them. It's a moment of vulnerability, of reaching out to him in a silent plea for connection.

Jaehaerys's gaze softens as he watches her, his own hand hovering just above hers. He can sense her hesitation, her unspoken question hanging in the air. With a gentle smile, he closes the distance, his fingers intertwining with hers in a reassuring embrace. In that simple gesture, he conveys a myriad of emotions—support, affection, and a silent promise of solidarity.

Jaehaerys's lips tenderly brush against the back of Rhaenyra's hand, leaving a gentle kiss in their wake. It's a gesture filled with warmth and reverence, a silent affirmation of his affection for her. In that fleeting moment, time seems to stand still as they share a quiet connection, their hearts beating in harmony.

Rhaenyra feels a rush of warmth spread through her at the touch of his lips, a fluttering sensation stirring in the depths of her chest. It's a simple yet profound gesture, one that speaks volumes without the need for words. As Jaehaerys pulls away, his gaze meets hers, and she sees a flicker of something tender and genuine reflected in his eyes.

In that brief exchange, they share a moment of intimacy, a glimpse into the depths of their burgeoning feelings for each other. And as the journey continues, they carry with them the memory of that stolen kiss, a promise of what lies ahead on the path they tread together.

—

As they reach the Red Keep, Ser Steffon Darklyn, resplendent in his white cloak of the Kingsguard, approaches them with a solemn expression. "My Prince, Princess," he greets them with a respectful nod. "His Grace, King Viserys, has summoned you both to the Small Council Chamber."

Rhaenyra exchanges a glance with Jaehaerys, a mixture of curiosity and anticipation flickering in her eyes. With a nod of acknowledgment to Ser Steffon, they follow him through the grand halls of the Red Keep, the weight of their impending audience with the king hanging in the air like a palpable tension.

As they make their way to the Small Council Chamber, Jaehaerys and Rhaenyra exchange whispered words, their voices barely above a murmur as they speculate on the reason for the summons. With each step, the anticipation builds, and they steel themselves for whatever news or decree awaits them behind the closed doors of the chamber.

As they step into the Small Council Chamber, Jaehaerys takes note of the assembled members of the Small Council, their expressions ranging from curiosity to sternness. His gaze lingers on Otto Hightower, the Hand of the King, whose sharp eyes bore into him with a piercing intensity.

King Viserys acknowledges their presence with a nod, his expression unreadable. Clearing his throat, Otto Hightower, the towering figure at the head of the council table, addresses Jaehaerys directly. "Prince Jaehaerys," he begins, his tone clipped and formal, "we have been informed of your recent excursion to the Vale to meet with Prince Daemon."

Jaehaerys, his tone tinged with sarcasm, turns to King Viserys with a raised eyebrow. "Must I seek permission from the Hand of the King to meet with my own brother, Your Grace?" he questions, his words carrying a hint of defiance.

King Viserys, sensing the tension in the air, replies in a diplomatic tone, "Of course not, Jaehaerys. Family matters are important. I only hope that your meeting with Prince Daemon was fruitful."

Jaehaerys, turning his attention to Otto, clarifies, "Indeed, Ser Otto, I hadn't seen Daemon in 11 years. It was high time for a reunion."

Otto, sensing the resistance and recognizing the potential consequences of pressing the issue further, wisely decides to back down.

"Rest assured, Your Grace," Jaehaerys says with a cheerful tone, "Daemon is diligently fulfilling your commands, endeavoring to reconcile with his wife, though the progress is as sluggish as that of a snail."

Viserys chuckles, acknowledging Jaehaerys's observation, and decides to move on to the next agenda item.

"I've been sifting through any new laws made during my absence," Jaehaerys remarks casually, "to catch up on matters of state. And I must say, I found something interesting."

Viserys, curious, asks Jaehaerys to elaborate.

"It seems there have been some alterations to the laws concerning taxation," Jaehaerys explains. "I'd like to discuss them further with you, Your Grace."

"Ah, taxation," Viserys muses, leaning forward with interest. "Let's hear your thoughts on the matter, Jaehaerys."

"It seems that the new tax law allocates a certain portion of the taxes to the Starry Sept in Oldtown, Your Grace" Jaehaerys explains. "It's particularly interesting that this law was passed during the final days of the Old King Jaehaerys's life."

As Jaehaerys reveals the details of the new tax law, murmurs ripple through the small council chamber. Some council members exchange puzzled glances, while others lean forward, eager to understand the implications of this unexpected development. Viserys's expression shifts from initial surprise to thoughtful consideration, his gaze flickering between Jaehaerys and Otto Hightower, who sits stiffly in his chair, his jaw clenched and his eyes flashing with suppressed anger. It's evident to everyone in the room that Otto Hightower is not pleased with this revelation, and his silent seething adds an air of tension to the atmosphere.

"Lord Hand," Corlys begins, his voice firm yet respectful, "is it true that such a tax law was passed through?"

The inquiry cuts through the tension in the room, prompting all eyes to turn toward Otto Hightower, awaiting his response.

As all eyes in the chamber turn toward him, Otto Hightower's expression tightens, but he maintains his composure. "Yes, Lord Corlys," he answers evenly, though his tone betrays a hint of annoyance. "The law in question was indeed passed during the final days of King Jaehaerys's reign."

Viserys, intrigued by the revelation, furrows his brow and asks, "Why is the crown paying the Faith of the Seven from its own pocket, when they already receive generous donations from most Lords of the realm?"

Lord Corlys adds, "Furthermore, this places undue financial strain on Houses that do not follow the Faith, such as most of the Northern Houses."

Jaehaerys states the obvious, saying, "As the King was on his deathbed, the law would have been passed by one person and one person only: his Hand, Otto Hightower."

The chamber erupts into murmurs and whispers, filled with disbelief and speculation, as Jaehaerys's words cast a shadow of suspicion over Otto Hightower's actions.

"I assure you, my lords, the passage of this law was for the greater good of the realm," Otto Hightower declares, his tone firm and unwavering. "The Starry Sept plays a vital role in maintaining stability and order, and the crown's support ensures its continued function."

Jaehaerys interjects, his voice calm yet authoritative. "While the crown holds the title of 'The Protector of the Faith,' it's important to remember that the functioning of the Faith is not a State matter. The crown's involvement in the financial affairs of the Faith should be limited to matters of exceptional importance to the realm."

"We agree," Lord Strong begins, his voice firm. "The functioning of the Faith should not be a matter for the state to fund."

Lord Beesbury chimes in, his tone echoing the sentiment. "Indeed, it sets a dangerous precedent to burden the crown and its subjects with such expenses."

"Allow me to make a suggestion," Jaehaerys states, "the major houses of Westeros will soon be arriving in the capital to swear fealty to me as the new heir. We can utilize this occasion to conduct a vote. It would enable the lords to decide whether they wish to uphold the existing tax law or not."

The chamber murmurs with a mix of anticipation and apprehension, as the lords contemplate the prospect of their voices being heard on such a significant matter. Some nod in agreement, while others exchange cautious glances, unsure of the potential ramifications of such a vote.

"Jaehaerys, your proposal is sound," Viserys acknowledges, his tone thoughtful. "We shall indeed put the matter to a vote when the major houses gather in the capital."

His decision is met with a mixture of relief and anticipation from the assembled lords, who now await further instructions on how to proceed with the upcoming vote.

"Thank you all for your contributions today," Viserys announces, his voice commanding attention. "The council is dismissed." As the other members begin to file out of the chamber, he fixes Otto with a stern gaze. "Lord Hightower, I would have a word with you."

As they step outside, Lord Corlys walks up to Jaehaerys as Rhaenyra is busy talking to Lord Strong.

"An astute move, Prince Jaehaerys," Lord Corlys remarks, his tone carrying a hint of admiration. "Your suggestion has certainly set the stage for some interesting developments between the king and his Hand."

Jaehaerys nods in acknowledgment, a faint smile playing on his lips. "Thank you, Lord Corlys. Sometimes, a well-timed suggestion can illuminate the path forward in unexpected ways."

Jaehaerys leans in slightly, his voice low. "And let us not forget, Lord Corlys, that your foresight in capitalizing on this opportunity will undoubtedly strengthen our position further. The plan we agreed upon last night will ensure that we navigate these turbulent waters with successfully."

"Indeed," Lord Corlys responds with a nod of agreement. "Together, we shall navigate these waters with success, ensuring that our realm remains stable and prosperous." With an understanding of their shared goals, the two men part ways, each returning to their respective duties with a renewed sense of purpose and determination.

—

As Jaehaerys rejoins Rhaenyra, he finds her waiting patiently, her eyes lighting up as he approaches. With a gentle smile, she reaches out and takes his hand, their fingers intertwining in a silent exchange of warmth and reassurance. Ser Harrold and Ser Steffon stand nearby, ever vigilant but discreet, allowing the couple their moment of connection amidst the bustling activity of the Red Keep.

"Let's visit the Weirwood Tree in the Godswood," Rhaenyra suggests, "it's my favorite place."

"That sounds wonderful." Jaehaerys answers with a smile.

Hand in hand, they navigate the corridors of the Red Keep, drawn by the tranquility of the Godswood. Rhaenyra leads Jaehaerys to the majestic Weirwood Tree, its ancient white bark standing as a silent sentinel.

"Here, I find solace and clarity." Rhaenyra says, her lips quivering in a tranquil smile.

"I can see why." He replies, "It's beautiful."

"Amidst the whispers of the leaves and the gentle rustle of the wind," Rhaenyra says closing her eyes, "I find peace."

Jaehaerys nods in understanding, "It's a special place indeed." He says, admiring Rhaenyra's connection to the sacred place.

They sit beneath the tree, enveloped in the serene atmosphere of the Godswood, their hearts united in silent communion.

---

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