Chapter 31

The morning sun cast a golden hue through the chamber, bathing the room in a warm glow.

Inside the king's chamber,

Viserys, now awake and rejuvenated, stood before the mirror, staring at his reflection with shock and excitement. His skin, once aged and pale, was now smooth and unblemished, resembling his real age. The festering wounds that had made him feel as though he were being eaten alive were now completely healed without a scar. His muscles and bones, which had strained from the slightest physical exertion, were now completely healthy. His reflection was a testament to the miraculous events of the previous night.

The realization that he was healed washed over him like a wave, leaving him momentarily breathless. All this time, though he hadn't shown it, he had been deeply afraid of his illness. Each time the Maester cut away a part of him, he felt a fear worse than death. But now, for the first time in a long while, he felt calm and peaceful.

"Alicent," he called softly, his voice a mixture of wonder and disbelief. "Look at this, I'm cured!"

Alicent was awakened from her slumber, her eyes fluttering open to meet the sight of her husband's transformation and his excited expression.

The joy in his voice was palpable, yet it was tinged with an undercurrent of something she couldn't quite place. She rose to her feet, her movements deliberate, as she approached Viserys.

"Indeed, you appear to be," she replied, her voice steady but her eyes betraying her turmoil. "But we must temper our joy with caution, my love. Aerion's magic has granted you a reprieve, not a cure."

Viserys's smile faltered, his brow furrowing in confusion. "What do you mean? I feel completely healthy and strong. I feel my strength the same as when I rode Balerion."

"The ritual—it's a temporary measure," Alicent explained, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. "It has suppressed the symptoms, but the disease remains, lurking beneath the surface. Aerion warned that any injury could turn into a festering wound, perhaps even more aggressively than before."

Viserys's face became one of disappointment. Alicent saw the change and quickly added, "But we have hope. Aerion seems very confident in finding a cure for you."

Viserys absorbed her words, the gravity of the situation settling upon him. "So, until a cure is found, we have to rely on blood magic?"

Alicent nodded, her gaze fixed on his. "Yes, and even that comes with its own set of challenges. The ritual requires the blood of your lineage, and each person can only contribute once. So the number of times you can rely on blood magic is limited."

Viserys sighed deeply. "Then Aerion will need Rhaenyra's or Daemon's blood next time," he concluded, the implications dawning on him.

"That's what he said," Alicent confirmed, her voice laced with hesitation. "But are you sure they are willing to?"

Viserys turned to his wife, a determined look in his eyes. "Alicent, Daemon is my brother, and even if he is unwilling, my daughter won't let her old man die."

Alicent placed a gentle hand on his arm. "I hoped you were right but, but we must not rely on blood magic too much and should trust in Aerion finding a cure."

Viserys nodded, feeling a renewed sense of purpose. "Yes, the kingdom won't look at a King practicing blood magic in good light."

With that, the chamber fell into a reflective silence, the weight of their situation hanging heavy in the air.

But seeing the concern in his wife's eyes, Viserys felt a pang of apprehension and as he thought his wife did have something more to say " I urge you to reconsider asking Aerion to perform the ritual again," she pleaded, her voice tinged with urgency.

Viserys turned to face her, his expression a blend of confusion and concern. "Why?" he asked, searching her eyes for answers. He sensed he had missed something significant. "Is there something wrong? What have Aerion hidden about the ritual from me ?"

Alicent took a deep breath, her resolve firming. "The ritual, like all blood magic from the annals of old Valyrian records, demands a steep price."

Viserys's heart sank. "And what price did Aerion pay for last night's ritual?" he pressed, his initial joy now overshadowed by a growing sense of dread.

Alicent's eyes met his, filled with sorrow that seemed to age her in that moment. "He sacrificed twenty-five years of his own lifespan."

Viserys staggered back, the weight of her words hitting him like a physical blow. "How could he be so reckless?" he roared, his voice echoing off the stone walls.

Alicent reached out, her touch gentle yet firm. "He did it for you, for his family. But we cannot allow such sacrifices to become commonplace. I doubt anyone else would be willing to do such a thing, even Rhaenyra. We must find another way."

Her advice wasn't just out of concern for Rhaenyra or Daemon, but also out of fear that her husband would become obsessed with the ritual.

The fear of death might even drive the kindest of kings to cruel tyrants and fall into madness. She worried that if this continued, her own children would one day fall prey to the ritual.

Viserys sank into a chair, his mind racing with the enormity of the situation. The cure he had longed for had come at a cost he could never have imagined. As he looked into Alicent's eyes, he saw not just the queen, but his wife, the mother of his child, and the one person who had stood by him in his darkest hours.

"We will find another way," he vowed, his voice barely above a whisper. "Together," he asserted.

"Yes, together," she replied softly.

Suddenly, as if struck by a thought, he stood up abruptly, causing the chair to scrape loudly against the stone floor. "After I fell unconscious, what happened to Aerion? Where is he? How is he now?" Viserys asked a series of questions, his voice echoing in the silent room.

Alicent looked up, her eyes reflecting surprise. "I don't know. After the ritual, he left the chamber with his equipment," she replied honestly.