sister

The next evening, Baela found him busy reading in the library. She approached him with a skeptical glance at the stack of thick books beside him, then took the seat opposite him.

"Did you know that the Lord's men-at-arms can enter the home of a peasant and search it, or arrest and torture the residents with nothing but a suspicion?"

She massaged her forehead, clearly exasperated.

"Why would you start a conversation like that?! I just sat down!"

Aerys laughed and lazily flipped through the book.

"I was looking for something like a maximum duration the suspect could be jailed without evidence or any requirements to let them contact their families. There isn't much in the way of that." He shrugged tiredly.

"Yeah," Baela agreed. "Father told us that most of the Lords misuse their rights or are just lazy in delivering justice."

"He did?" Aerys raised an eyebrow. Daemon 'Lord Fleabottom' Targaryen concerned about abuses of power?

She hummed in agreement. "Which is why the gods guided our ancestors to this land so we can punish the lords for their injustice."

Oh, never mind then.

"Why doesn't he then?"

"What?"

"Why doesn't Uncle Daemon fly around making the nobles accountable?"

Baela looked around nervously and then asked, "Promise you won't tell Uncle Viserys?"

"Pinky promise." Aerys grinned.

"Father said it's because Uncle doesn't want to upset the lords. So he lets them abuse their smallfolk in the name of pit and gallows. If Father had the leave to, he would put them all in dungeons and let better men and women rule those lands!"

Aerys guffawed.

"Yes! We shall solve the misuse of the judiciary with more misuse of the judiciary!"

Why didn't the lawmakers of Modern Earth think of this?

"Hey!"

"Sorry! Sorry!"

To be fair to Daemon, plenty of Earth governments were involved in extrajudicial imprisonment and torture of suspects. But they at least tried to hide it, knowing that society at large did not approve of it.

Aerys looked out at the setting sun and closed his books.

"So you're done reading?"

"Not really. I'll resume tomorrow."

After the funeral. He didn't say.

If Baela was here and not with her sister and cousins who were still mourning Laenor, it was probably because she was trying to escape the gloom and doom brought upon the family by the second apparent death.

Besides, Baela barely knew Laenor. And unlike Rhaena, who had gotten closer to her nephew after their fight against Aemond, Baela had drifted away. It would make sense if she was less invested in mourning their father.

"Why not today? There are plenty of candles."

He laughed again and stood up to leave the library.

"And read in candlelight? No way!"

"What's wrong with candles?! Everyone uses candles!" She smiled, letting him distract her.

"Everything! It's so primitive. I'm never going to read in candlelight."

"Never? What if you get a raven at night?"

"I'll get a maester to read it."

"What if you don't have a maester?"

"I'll wait for the sun to rise."

"What if it's an urgent call for help?"

"Then the caller better pray that the Seven are more receptive to their calls."

"What if there's a Long Night and the sun never rises?"

"Then I suppose I'll miss the noble art of reading. Also, I'll have far greater worries."

The two children giggled as they came upon a more serious situation in the corridor beneath the library.

Rhaenyra was attempting to share her grief with Rhaenys, while Corlys and Daemon stood to the side. It was an awkward conversation, with Rhaenyra unable to decide whether to offer condolences to the deceased's mother or expect condolences as his wife, which Rhaenys was in no mood to give.

In a more functional family, they would have grieved together, making such exchanges unnecessary between mother and wife. But that relationship had been strained since Jacaerys came out looking nothing like Laenor.

"Oh, dearest sister!" Aerys greeted, ignoring Rhaenys and Baela, who went to stand with her father and grandfather.

"You look so radiant even as a grieving widow." He walked closer to Rhaenyra.

"Aerys." She gritted out. "Don't you have duties as a squire?"

"I usually would. But there's not much to do, what with the funeral and all."

He attempted a friendly smile, though it came out more toothy than he intended.

"On that topic though, if you're looking for a new husband," he flexed a bicep, "I shall be a man grown soon enough."

Her eyes widened in outrage, and even Baela gasped scandalously, though he couldn't see her.

In a flash, Rhaenyra's hand snapped forward and grabbed his chin. Her nails dug into his skin, and he relished the pain.

"You go too far, Aerys." Her eyes bulged out like their father's would when he was truly angry.

"Why?" he mumbled out, struggling against her fingers. "What's wrong with me?"

"I can even make omelettes. Can you make an omelette?"

Rhaenyra pushed him away in disgust, which he took as a no to the omelette question, and he stumbled a few steps.

Before he could try again, a hand grabbed him by the neck from behind.

"Tut, tut." Daemon's voice came near his ear, and Aerys stopped his instinctual struggle.

"Just when I thought you were different from the rest of your brood, you prove to be just another leech trying to latch onto your betters."

"Ah! My apologies, Uncle."

He waited until Daemon loosened his grip somewhat.

"I didn't know my sister was already spoken for."

Daemon threw him to the ground.

He heard shouts and gasps from the others in the corridor, but was more focused on keeping his skull intact. He had managed to do so because he had expected a violent reaction to his statement.

Daemon's boots came into view, but so did Corlys'. He looked up to find the older man positioning himself between the two Targaryens.

"What are you doing, Corlys?"

"What am I doing? Have you gone mad, Daemon?"

Baela ran to check on him, and he sat up to better observe the confrontation.

"He's just insulted your son's memory. Barely after he insulted your grandsons in front of everyone!"

Corlys gave him an assessing look before turning his attention back to Daemon.

"Which I will punish him for."

Daemon grunted in disgust.

"With chores? Cleaning your armor?"

He continued with a more pleasant tone.

"Come now, Corlys! What are you so afraid of? Viserys is not here to protect him. And the little leech has insulted us all. We have killed men for less."

He hissed out the last sentence, and Aerys felt his breath hitch.

"In the Stepstones! Not in my own castle!" Corlys hissed back.

"Daemon, that's enough!" Rhaenyra called from behind him, and the man turned to give her an aggrieved sigh.

"You're acting as if I'm asking for his death. But a few cracks of the whip will teach the boy some discipline."

The uncle and niece had a staring contest before Daemon grunted and turned to the door, Rhaenyra following behind him.

"Baela, come!" he called when he was at the door. His daughter hesitated but ultimately obeyed. The action hurt Aerys almost as much as Daemon's throw had.

"You are doing it in the wrong order, Uncle!" he called out.

"What?"

"You are supposed to wait for her to accept my proposal before getting me out of your way."

"That's enough." Corlys picked him up by the scruff. "You look fine, but let's get the maester to see you in any case."

He took to marching him back towards the library, and he heard Daemon walking away behind them. He turned to Rhaenys, who had been observing everything with a stony face.

"So? Do you think it was him?"

She opened her mouth, then shut it, before speaking again.

"If it was, he will regret it."

He grinned and looked at Corlys.

"Are we really having a funeral? With him still alive?"

The older man sighed and turned to his wife.

"I see no reason for this mummers' farce. My men can keep Laenor safe inside the castle."

Rhaenys laughed a hollow laugh.

"Like they protected him from Corey?"

This seemed to be a rehashed argument between them, and Corlys tightened his lips while his wife continued.

"And what of Rhaenyra? Can your men protect him in their bedchambers?"

"She wouldn't—"

"Did you see them, Corlys? Daemon and she are just counting the days before they think they can get married."

"That's all the more reason not to do this farce. What if they do get married, thinking Rhaenyra is a widow?"

"That's not more important than my son's life!"

Rhaenys was getting heated, and Aerys didn't want anyone to overhear and ruin all the excitement he was having.

"Has Ser Laenor, assuming that it's him, confessed who helped him? Who arranged for the body or the ship?"

"Not yet." Corlys admitted.

"He insists that he is Laenor and that everything was his idea and execution," Rhaenys added.

"Then perhaps we should delay

 this decision until we know more. After everything is cleared, he can return to court, pretending that he has just escaped some captivity."

It would even be true.

"And surely my sister won't remarry before even her mourning period is over!"