Chapter 37-The Lies of a Hand!

Chapter 37

AEGON TARGARYEN

Daemon's death while shocking had not really affected him at an emotional level. Yet he was not oblivious to the political implications of it. He himself had become from the heir presumptive to the heir definitive, and though while not yet crowned it was an open secret that by the end of the week he would be crowned the Prince of Dragonstone.

He had not expected this. All his life he had been scarred by the dreams of the destruction and devastation of the Dance. Every night, for years his dreams had been occupied by dreams of pain suffering and destruction of all those around him, as each every one of them hankered after the throne.

A throne which was now being offered to him. But he could see it, the conflict brewing in the distance. Already House Velaryon was tense, given that the King had made his displeasure with them public after asking them to pull back from the Stepstones, whilst they had expected the opposite and had thought that with Daemon now dead they would be granted the command of the operation.

The King's offer was tempting. Very tempting. But it came with a lot of conditions. For all his brilliance, Aegon was not impervious to the harms of battle, and to secure his position it was upto him to bring the behemoth that was the Triarchy to heel.

His own suspicions about the circumstances surrounding Daemon's death had changed his views on the Triarchy, for he feared that there was more to them and their alliance than met the eye.

And he would have beat them, and it would be neither easy, nor quick.

After turning and twisting all night, he found himself at the quietest place in the castle, away from the thousands of prying eyes and salacious offers of ambitious young ladies. The Sept was as quiet as he remembered it to be; on the other hand, the absence of a certain brown-haired girl made it all the more empty as he sat there staring at the statues of the Seven, trying to make up his mind.

"I knew I would find you here," and in his trance he had completely missed someone coming and sitting right beside him, and so his head snapped to the side and he was surprised as he saw Rhaenyra sitting there beside him, dressed in a fine black gown as she gave him a small smile.

"Rhaenyra," he asked with a frown, for he did not think of her as firm believer, not that he would say the same of himself. He only did come here to sit in peace and quiet.

She sat herself down beside him much to his surprise, and made a small prayer much to his surprise.

"Alicent once brought me here after mother's death," and there was sadness in her tone as she spoke her name.

"She told me how after her own mother's death she came here and closed her eyes, and talked to her. She made me do the same, and it eased me," she continued.

"Though, I never thought I would be doing it to talk to her soon," and none had thought that.

"She also told me how you did not come here to pray. That you came to the sept for the quiet and the solitude. How it helped you think," and it seemed that Alicent had shared his secrets with her.

"Yes. I am not quite the godly man; the people make me out to be." There were rumors around him, rumors about the magic he had used to rescue Alicent and about how he was blessed by the stranger.

"So, your father told you?" he guessed, for there would be no other reason for her to come here and meet him. Moreover, he knew that she had been called by the King into his chambers yesterday, much like he had been days prior.

"Yes, he did," and that was expected.

"And what would you wish my answer to be," he asked her as he looked towards her, and after a second, she answered with a question of her own.

"What would you do if I said no?" he thought about it and shrugged.

"I cannot be sure yet, but I would probably have to agree to the war against the Triarchy and refuse the marriage with you" because he could not back out of the war. Doing so would be handing the throne to House Velaryon, and despite his sympathies, he knew of their problems and what troubles it would cause.

No. The Throne was his by right, and he was going to take it.

"There is no need for it then," she said as her eyes softened.

"Say yes, I will marry you if you are willing," she said, as she looked straight ahead.

"Both of us may not love each other, but I will have to marry one day. And at least we have much in common, the last of which is the love we bore Alicent," she added, and that was enough of an answer.

"Moreover, Alicent trusted you, and so will I, so I agree with my father's terms. We shall be wed, and I shall be your Queen, and we shall rule the realm together after him," and there was iron in that tongue, determination worthy of a Targaryen, something that was rather new for her.

"Let me write to my mother, she will wish to know about it," it would be good to hear her opinion on this. And she nodded as she sighed.

"I grow weary of the castle, I wish I could fly away, just for some time. In here there is simply too much sadness. Everyone I cared for is now gone," she lamented and indeed it must be painful for her to walk these Halls.

"I could ask you to stay but you are set to leave soon as well," she asked and he nodded.

"I am afraid I have a war to get back to," already his return had been delayed because of the King's offer, and as he thought of Rhaenyra's situation an idea came upon him.

"Princess," he began as he looked at her.

"...You do remember that I am not your only cousin right...."

0000

OTTO HIGHTOWER

Daemon's death had come as a surprise for him, much like everyone else in the realm. The Rogue Prince's demise was a big blow for the Seven Kingdoms and, more importantly, the Royal family, which had not seen its numbers dwindle by so much in so little time.

Alicent's death still weighed heavily on him. Her scathing words and allegations still haunted his dream as he tried to reassure himself of his innocence, and believe that his daughter's death was not caused by him. No, her murderer was someone else.

Someone who had just gone from being the heir apparent to the definitive heir to the Iron Throne. Aegon Targaryen, that boy was worse than his father, hiding his true conniving nature in a cloak of valor and civility, the boy was the true murderer of his daughter. He had been the one to kill her, and Otto would not let him sit on the Iron Throne.

Never.

And so, in the weeks leading upto it, he had made sure that the court and the city would know the truth. That they would know the real culprit behind his daughter's demise. How she had been shunned and abandoned by their so-called Prince, who flew away to the Vale to keep a hold on his power there.

And yet the boy had undone all his work. And now, somehow, rumors about his own role were the talk of the court, and everywhere he went the whispers followed after him, whispers on how he had pushed his daughter for the match against her will, on how he had been willing to sacrifice her life, her virtue and her reputation for the sake of the said match.

And he was not blind to the timing of all this, on how all this had begun the day that bastard had shown up. It was all his work, trying to defame him both at court and with he Princess whose chilly attitude had been a stark contrast from how she had treated him before Daemon's cursed spawn had appeared.

But it did not matter, the Princess did not matter for the true power still lay with the King. And the King had been much quiet for days now, wallowing in grief at the loss of his brother, and now suddenly, late into the night, Otto Hightower found himself getting called to the King's chambers, much to his consternation.

As Otto stood outside the Royal chambers, he wondered why he had been summoned and could think of no specific reason. A small whisper came from inside the room beckoning him in, and Otto entered the chambers he had visited so many times. Yet as he did, he found the gaze coming upon him much colder and distant than it ever had been.

Viserys and him had grown up together, and they had become fast friends when he first joined the court of his sire, Prince Baelon. It had been this camaraderie and friendship that had made Viserys keep him as his hand, and yet now, as he entered the King's chambers, he was greeted with no smile but with a sharp gaze that made him even hesitant to sit down.

"Your grace," he greeted the King, who sat in a chair, hair and face disheveled, reeking of wine.

"You called for me, your grace," he added shortly afterward. Viserys simply eyed him, turning the goblet in his sole hand, and the servants closed the doors behind them, leaving them all alone.

"I never thought they would end," the King began with a distant tone.

"Your little spats with Daemon. I thought I would see them continue to my grave," he finished with a small chuckle as Otto stood there quietly and dutifully, still oblivious to what the King's intent may have been in calling for him.

"I always thought that you were trying to protect me from Daemon's worst, trying to curb his excessive habits. And so, I never saw it," and those words were said with rage and sadness as the King's gaze sharpened towards him.

"The truth of your intentions," and that sentence rooted his feet to the ground. It was an allegation of misconduct.

"Your grace," he began softly.

"There was a reason Prince Daemon was called the Rogue Prince. I only ever tried to protect you and the realm from his vices," he explained, yet there was no smile or change in the King's expression at those words.

"Did you now?" and the King's question told him of his mood and rage.

"Or did you simply wish to further yourself by pushing us apart?" Visery's tone was cold as ice, and his eyes were fire as Otto found himself perplexed by the situation.

"Where is this coming from, your grace?" he gathered the courage and asked. And there was silence for a few seconds before the King finally replied.

"You lied to me, Otto. You lied to me!" and Otto shook his head, denying the accusation.

"I do not know what you have heard, your grace..."

"That night! You accused my brother of stealing your daughter's virtue," Otto chilled at those words as he saw the King's eyes light up. Sweat began gathering at his brows, yet he held strong.

This. How had the King learned of this?

"And yet he did nothing of the sort. Daemon was innocent of this crime, and yet you had me sentence his son for it, brokering an advantageous match for your daughter just to spite my brother," the King raged, and Otto knew he had to do something.

"Your grace, you heard it from the acolyte himself. I do not know who spouted these lies into your ears, but this is not the truth..."

"So, these are lies. All of them?" the King asked.

"Unequivocally," he answered and saw the King sigh as silence reigned over the room until the King opened his mouth once more.

"Are you calling your own daughter a liar, Otto...."

0000

Later into the night, the King sat alone in his solar, tired and broken as the pin of the Hand of the King lay there on the table infront of him. He was saddened by the loss of a brother and the loss of an old friend when there was a knock on the door, and after his command, the familiar face of Daemon's sole son entered the chambers.

He saw the boy's eyes scan the crowd, stopping for a second as he eyed the pin of the Hand of the King.

"So, have you made your decision?" he asked.

"Yes, I have," the boy answered as he looked him in the eye.

"I will do it. I will defeat the Triarchy."

"Good," the King smiled, a fire lit up in that gaze, yet Aegon continued.

"Though I have a small favor to ask...."

00000

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