| Chapter 11: Seeds of Dissent |

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| Aegon Targaryen - 1st Person Pov |

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The air in the palace felt heavier today, laden with an anxiety that seemed to hum beneath the surface of every conversation. Whispers floated through the halls like stray breezes, and even the courtiers, always so poised, moved with a sense of unease.

The Golden Lotus Rebellion had spread in the past few days.

No longer just a distant threat murmured about in private, it had now become something much more immediate. The west was in turmoil, and reports of entire villages being overtaken by the rebels filled the Emperor's council. And though they dared not say it aloud, I could see the fear in the ministers' eyes.

They were losing control.

The 'Empress' had summoned me early this morning, a rare occurrence. Normally, she would wait until the afternoon to call for me, after the court had settled into its rhythm.

But not today. Today, she needed me early.

And that alone told me something had changed.

I made my way to her private chambers, the scent of incense still heavy in the air as I entered. Jia stood by the window, her back to me, her posture unusually tense. Normally, she radiated control, but this was different.

Something had shaken her.

"Jia." I said, my voice cautious as I approached. "You wanted to see me?"

She turned slowly, her face a mask of calm, though I could see the storm behind her eyes. "Aegon, come closer."

I obeyed, stepping into the room fully, waiting for her to speak. There was a heaviness in the air between us, as if the unspoken tension had finally decided to take shape.

She gestured toward the map on the table before her, the familiar map of Westeros was now traded with the map of The Yi Ti Empire, but this time with new markings in strategic places, I could see.

"The rebellion grows overnight." she said quietly, her fingers tracing the western borders. "The Golden Lotus are no longer content to skirmish. They have begun overtaking towns, gaining support from local lords who have lost faith in the Emperor."

"How many?" I asked, leaning in to get a better view of the map.

"Too many." she answered, her voice clipped. "The Emperor's forces are stretched thin, and the nobles in the west grow more desperate. They see weakness in his absence, and now… they question."

I frowned, studying the map. "And what do you plan to do about it?"

Jia's eyes flickered toward me, her expression hardening. "I plan to restore order, Aegon. But there are limits to what I can do from here I fear. The Emperor… he must be seen. He must act."

I hesitated, watching her carefully. The mention of the Emperor had always been a point of contention between us. Jia wielded the power, but the Emperor's name was the shield she used to maintain her grip on the court. But now, it seemed, that shield was starting to crack.

"And if he doesn't act?" I asked, my voice low.

Jia's lips pressed into a thin line. "He will."

Her answer didn't inspire confidence, and I could tell by the tension in her shoulders that she knew it too.

She moved away from the map, her gaze distant. "The court grows restless. They whisper of rebellion, not just in the west, but here in the palace. The ministers are beginning to question his rule. Some have already started looking for… alternatives."

"Alternatives?" I echoed, feeling a chill run down my spine. "You mean they're considering replacing him?"

Jia gave a sharp nod. "There are always factions, Aegon. Some see the Emperor's absence and sickness as a sign of weakness. They think the Golden Lotus are just the beginning,— that without decisive action, the entire empire could fracture."

"And what do you think?" I asked, my tone more probing.

She glanced at me sharply, her expression guarded. "It doesn't matter what I think. What matters is what the court thinks."

Huh, that changed...

Her answer was a deflection, and I could feel the edge of paranoia creeping into her voice.

For all her power, for all her control, Jia was beginning to realize that the court's loyalty was not as secure as it once had been. The rebellion was spreading, and with it, the seeds of doubt.

"The rebellion is just a symptom." she continued, her voice softening. "It's not just about the Golden Lotus. It's about the court losing faith in the Emperor. They need to believe that he is still in control, that he can lead. If they don't…"

"They'll turn on him." I finished for her, my gaze locked on hers. "And on you."

Jia's eyes flashed, but she didn't deny it. "Yes."

A heavy silence settled between us, broken only by the distant sound of voices in the hall. I could see the weight of the empire pressing down on her, the strain of holding power in a court that was growing more unstable by the day.

"What do you want me to do?" I asked, stepping closer.

Jia's gaze softened, her hand reaching out to touch my arm. "I want you to learn from this, Aegon. Learn how to manage dissent, how to control rebellion before it consumes everything. This is the lesson I've been preparing you for."

Her words sent a shiver down my spine. This was more than just politics. It was war,— war of a different kind, one fought with whispers, alliances, and careful maneuvering. And Jia was teaching me to be a master of it.

But even as I listened, I could feel a part of me beginning to question. Jia's grip on the court was tightening, but at what cost? The more she clung to power, the more fragile it seemed to become. And I couldn't help but wonder — how much longer could she hold on?

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Later that day, I found myself walking through the palace gardens, my thoughts heavy with the weight of Jia's words. The rebellion was spreading, the court was fracturing, and Jia's control was slipping, whether she admitted it or not.

As I walked, I spotted the familiar figure of General Wei near one of the garden's fountains, speaking quietly with another noble. They hadn't seen me yet, so I took the opportunity to observe them, staying just out of sight.

"The rebellion grows bolder..." General Wei said, his voice low. "The Golden Lotus are more organized than we thought. They've begun coordinating their attacks, targeting supply lines and cutting off reinforcements."

"And the Emperor?" the noble asked, his tone edged with frustration.

General Wei shook his head. "Still silent. The Lady Consort speaks for him, but the court is losing patience."

The noble cursed under his breath. "If the Emperor doesn't act soon, the rebellion will reach the capital. And if that happens, even Lady Jia won't be able to protect him."

General Wei's face darkened, but he said nothing.

I stepped forward then, revealing myself. Both men turned sharply, but General Wei recovered quickly.

"Aegon." he greeted me, his tone neutral. "You've heard, then."

"I've heard enough." I replied, meeting his gaze. "The rebellion is spreading faster than expected. The Emperor's forces are struggling."

General Wei nodded, though there was a flicker of something in his eyes,— something close to resignation. "Yes. We are losing ground, and if the Emperor does not act, we may lose the empire."

"And what does Lady Jia think of this?" I asked, though I already knew the answer.

"Lady Jia believes the Emperor will act when the time is right." General Wei said carefully. "But many of us believe that time has already passed."

His words hung in the air, heavy with meaning. The court was growing tired of waiting.

And curiously, so was I.

"How much longer can this go on?" I asked, my voice quieter now.

General Wei hesitated, his gaze flickering to the noble beside him before returning to me. "That depends on how long the court is willing to wait. But I fear their patience is wearing thin."

I nodded, absorbing his words. The rebellion was not just a threat to the empire,— it was a threat to Jia's power, and by extension, to me. If the court turned on the Emperor, they would turn on her too. And if that happened, where would that leave me?

"Thank you for your honesty, General." I said after a long pause. "I'll keep this in mind."

He inclined his head, his expression unreadable. "Be careful, Aegon. The court is not as it seems. Loyalties shift quickly when power is at stake, and that moment is now."

I smiled faintly. "I'm unfortunetly,— or fortunetly, learning that, General."

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That evening, I returned to Jia's chambers, my mind still racing with everything I had learned. She was waiting for me, seated by the window, her gaze distant as she watched the setting sun.

"How was your walk?" she asked, her voice soft.

"Informative." I replied, stepping into the room. "I spoke with General Wei."

Jia's eyes flickered, but she said nothing.

"He says the court is losing patience," I continued, watching her reaction carefully. "The rebellion is spreading faster than we anticipated, and they fear the Emperor's silence more than the rebels themselves."

Jia remained still, her gaze locked on the horizon as the last rays of sunlight bathed the room in a soft glow. Her silence stretched on, and for a moment, I thought she hadn't heard me. But then, she spoke, her voice low and controlled.

"The court fears what they do not understand. They have always been quick to doubt, quick to shift their loyalties when it suits them. That is the nature of power in this place." She turned to face me, her expression unreadable. "But we must not act out of fear, Aegon. Fear makes us reckless. The court will see that the Emperor is not silent,— he is simply waiting for the right moment."

Is he? Or is it just you who wish to cling on that notion?

"And if that moment doesn't come soon?" I pressed, stepping closer. "If the rebellion reaches the capital, if the court loses faith,— what then? Waiting has its risks."

Her eyes narrowed slightly, and I could see the flicker of tension in her features. "The Emperor will act. He has no choice. His reign depends on it."

"And what about your reign?" I asked quietly.

The question hung in the air like a blade poised to strike, and for the first time, I saw the crack in her armor. It was small, almost imperceptible, but it was there,— a momentary flash of anxiety that she quickly buried beneath her usual mask of calm.

"My reign is tied to his." she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "If the Emperor falls, so do I. That is why I will not let him fall."

I studied her for a moment, my thoughts racing. Jia had always been the one in control, the one pulling the strings behind the scenes. But now, as the rebellion grew and the court began to question her authority, I could see that even she wasn't immune to doubt.

"You can't control everything." I said, my voice gentler now. "The rebellion, the court… they're not just problems you can manage from the shadows. Sometimes, you have to confront them head-on."

She looked at me, her gaze searching mine as if weighing my words carefully. "And what do you suggest, Aegon? That I send the Emperor into battle? That I make him face the court directly, despite his sickness?"

"Maybe." I said, surprising even myself with the boldness of my answer. "Or maybe it's time to reconsider who holds the real power in Yi Ti."

Her eyes darkened, and for a moment, I thought she might lash out. But instead, she simply shook her head, a soft, almost bitter smile playing at her lips.

"Yi Ti is not ready for it." she said, her tone laced with something that felt like both disappointment and warning. "You may think you understand the game, but there is so much more at play here than you realize."

I frowned, feeling the familiar frustration bubble up inside me. "You could whow me how to manage this, how to control the court, how to make them see that the Emperor isn't weak."

Jia's expression softened, though there was still a hardness in her gaze. "You think power is something that can be learned in lessons, like swordplay or strategy. But power is something that must be earned, something you must take for yourself. I have taught you much, but you still have far to go before you are ready to rule."

"And when will I be ready?" I asked, my voice sharp. "When will you stop holding me back?"

She stood then, moving toward me with a grace that belied the tension between us. "I am not holding you back, Aegon. I am preparing you. The court, the rebellion, the Emperor,— these are all pieces on the board, and you must learn to move them carefully. But do not mistake my caution for weakness, I know what I'm doing."

Do you really, though?

She placed a hand on my shoulder, her touch both comforting and possessive. "When the time comes, you and I will be ready. But that time is not now."

I held her gaze, torn between the loyalty I had always felt toward her and the growing sense of doubt that gnawed at the edges of my mind. Jia had been my guide, my only teacher, but for the first time, I began to wonder if she was holding me too tightly, keeping me in the shadows when I was ready to step into the light.

"Trust me, Aegon." she whispered, her voice softer now. "Together, we will see this through. The Emperor will act. The rebellion will be crushed. And when the time comes, you will have your place in this world."

I nodded, though the doubt remained. "I hope you're right, Jia. Because if the court loses faith… we might not get another chance."

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The days that followed were tense, the atmosphere in the palace growing more strained with each passing hour. The Golden Lotus Rebellion continued to spread, and though Jia worked tirelessly behind the scenes to maintain control, the cracks in the empire were becoming harder to ignore.

I began to notice more subtle changes in the court. Conversations grew quieter, more guarded, and alliances that had once seemed strong began to show signs of strain. Ministers who had once spoken openly in support of Jia now whispered in dark corners, their eyes flickering with uncertainty. And through it all, the Emperor remained silent, his absence more glaring than ever.

Jia was growing more paranoid. It was subtle at first,— a tightening of her grip on the court, a sharper edge to her words. But as the rebellion continued to gain ground, I could see the fear in her eyes, the fear that she might lose control.

It was during one of our late-night discussions that I finally began to understand the depth of her fear.

"I must make the Emperor to make a statement." Jia said, pacing the length of her chambers. "The court needs to see him, to hear from him. If they don't, the rebellion will only grow stronger."

I sat by the window, watching her as she paced, my mind racing with everything I had learned in the past few days. "And what will he say? That the rebellion will be crushed? That everything is under control?"

"Yes." she replied, her voice sharp. "Because that is the truth. The rebellion can still be stopped, but only if the court believes in the Emperor's strength."

"But they don't believe in him." I said, my frustration bubbling to the surface. "They believe in you. You're the one holding everything together."

Her pacing stopped, and she turned to face me, her eyes hard. "And that is why the Emperor must act now, before it's too late."

I shook my head, feeling the weight of the truth settling over me. "You're asking him to be something he's not, and to do something he can't. He's not a ruler, Jia. He never was. You've always been the one with the power,— besides, he is sick..."

Jia's expression faltered for just a moment, but she quickly regained her composure. "The court needs to believe in the Emperor, Aegon. If they don't, everything we've built will fall apart."

I stood then, my voice quieter now. "Maybe it's already falling apart."

Her eyes flashed with anger, but she said nothing.

The silence between us was heavy, filled with the weight of everything we hadn't said. Jia had built her power on the Emperor's name, but that name was losing its meaning. And as the rebellion grew stronger, so did the court's doubts. They were beginning to see through the illusion, beginning to realize that the Emperor was little more than a puppet.

And in that moment, I began to see it too.

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The rebellion was no longer a distant threat. It had become a test,— a test of the Emperor's strength, of Jia's control, and of my own place in this empire. The seeds of dissent had been planted, and I could see them growing, spreading through the court like wildfire.

Jia still held the reins of power, but I could feel the ground shifting beneath us. The rebellion wasn't just a threat to the Emperor,— it was a threat to everything she had built, and by extension, to everything I had been preparing for.

But even as I stood by her side, I couldn't shake the growing sense of unease. Jia's paranoia, her desperation to maintain control, was beginning to cloud her judgment. And as much as I trusted her, I knew that following her blindly might not be in my best interest.

The seeds of rebellion had been planted in Yi Ti.

And perhaps, they had been planted in me as well.

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