The Council Chambers, The Red Keep.
Aemond's gaze fell upon them. Then, he smiled.
That smile was far more genuine than the one he had just shown Larys.
"Mother," he said, "I am currently discussing military plans."
Queen Mother Alicent walked in. She wore a deep blue gown, her hair pinned up.
Her face was thinner and more haggard than it had been a few days ago, but those eyes remained as bright as ever. She walked to the right side of the long table and stood firm.
"I know," she said. She turned slightly to look at Aelyn.
"Queen Aelyn represents the wounded King, coming here to observe the Council."
Aemond's gaze shifted to Aelyn. She was cradling a bundle in her arms.
It was Jaehaera, Aegon's daughter, the Princess, who had not long been born.
The infant was sound asleep, her small face buried in the swaddling, occasionally twitching her nose.
Aemond glanced at the bundle. Then he withdrew his gaze.
"I seem to recall," he said, his voice cold, "that Mother is no longer the Queen Regent?"
Alicent's expression shifted. Aemond continued:
"Perhaps you should spend more time looking after the twins. They are still young and need their mother's company."
"Aemond..." Alicent's voice dropped, carrying a hint of a plea.
Aemond smiled. He did not intend to argue.
"Very well... very well."
He turned his head and gave Hal a look.
Hal understood immediately. He strode to the corner of the room, picked up an oak chair, walked to the right side of the long table, and set it down.
It was the first seat on the right, directly facing the head of the table.
Alicent looked at the chair, then at Aemond. She said nothing. She walked over and sat down.
Aelyn Rogare still stood at the door. She was still holding Jaehaera.
No one brought her a chair. No one spoke.
Gwayne Hightower lowered his head to count his fingers.
Ser William Darklyn remained expressionless. Will Simmons stared at the tabletop. Larys Strong sat in silence.
Aelyn's fingers tightened on the bundle. She looked at Alicent; Alicent wanted to speak up for her... but Aemond raised a brow at his mother.
Alicent bit her tongue.
Aelyn looked at Aemond again. Aemond was sitting at the head of the table, his violet eye fixed on her.
There was no malice in that gaze. Nor was there any warmth. There was only a cold, icy scrutiny.
Aelyn lowered her head. Then, holding the child, she walked toward the table step by step.
She went to the very end of the long table, directly opposite the head seat.
She gently placed Jaehaera on the table. The infant stirred but did not wake.
Then, Aelyn walked to the side of the hall and bent down. She grabbed a heavy oak chair with both hands. The chair dragged across the floor with a piercing screech.
Everyone listened in silence. No one stood up to help. No one spoke.
The chair was dragged until it came to a stop at the very end of the table, directly facing the head. Aelyn let go.
Next, she picked up Jaehaera from the table and sat down. Her back was straight, her chin slightly raised, her gaze meeting Aemond's directly.
Aemond watched her but said nothing. He sat down as well. He sat at the head of the table.
Next, Aemond spoke. There was no small talk.
"Will."
Will Simmons stood up immediately.
"Prince."
"How are the supplies coming along?"
Will's voice was steady and clear: "Rook's Rest is ten days' march from King's Landing... We have prepared enough dry rations, salted meat, and oats for 10,000 men for 20 days. We began loading the wagons three days ago."
Aemond nodded. "Very well." He turned to the left.
"Gwayne, William."
Both stood up at the same time. Aemond said:
"For this battle, take five hundred from the Royal Guard and three thousand from the Royal Army."
Aemond stood up. Both hands pressed against the table, his body leaning forward as he surveyed the group.
"Combined with my personal guard, that makes nine thousand five hundred men to sweep Rook's Rest."
"Capture every member of House Staunton and bring them back to King's Landing for trial. If they resist... dead or alive, it matters not."
Gwayne Hightower nodded slightly. "As you command."
Ser William Darklyn followed suit. "As you command."
Aemond's gaze shifted to the last man on the left. Larys Strong. Larys did not wait for him to speak.
He gripped his cane and stood up slowly. He was slower than everyone else, but no one rushed him. He stood straight and bowed slightly.
"Prince."
Aemond looked at him. "Go and notify all the vassals of the Crownlands. Have them resupply the army at Antlers. According to the allocation previously discussed for each House, a total of 5,000 men will be assembled. Have them merge with the Royal Army."
Larys nodded. "As you command."
Aemond withdrew his gaze. He pondered for a moment. His hand tapped the table twice.
'Who should be the commander of this battle?'
By logic, Gwayne Hightower was his uncle and the commander of the Royal Guard, the best choice. But he was a Hightower...
William Darklyn was the commander of the Royal Army, experienced in war, but he was too rigid, lacking flexibility.
As for Hal... He glanced behind him. Hal stood there, motionless. Aemond shook his head inwardly.
'It wasn't time yet.'
Just as he was about to speak, Alicent stood up. "I recommend someone."
Her voice wasn't loud, but it was clear. Everyone looked at her. Aemond turned to her.
"Please, Mother."
Alicent took a deep breath. "The Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, Ser Criston Cole. He has served the Royal Family for many years and is the Lord Commander."
Aemond did not reply immediately. He stared at his mother.
'Was this her move?'
Alicent stood there, her expression complex. She hoped he would agree.
Aelyn Rogare then stood up. "The King has given an order."
Holding Jaehaera, she stood directly opposite the long table.
"I represent King Aegon, delivering his command."
Her voice was ringing.
"The commander for this battle shall be the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, Ser Criston Cole."
The room fell silent. On the left, Gwayne Hightower's brow twitched. Ser William Darklyn remained stoic.
Will Simmons looked down at the table. Larys Strong watched in silence.
Alicent looked at Aemond. Aemond sat at the head of the table without any expression.
He only looked at Aelyn. Those violet eyes were like deep wells; no emotion could be seen.
Silence. A very, very long silence.
Then Aemond smiled. The smile was thin, but everyone felt the chill. He gripped the tabletop with both hands and slowly stood up.
"Ser Cole? And who does he intend to command?"
Aelyn's face shifted. "Prince Aemond," her voice rose, "this is the King's command."
"The King's command..." Aemond repeated the words
. He looked at her and said coldly, "Queen, do you know how important this battle is?"
Aelyn did not answer. Aemond continued: "Rook's Rest is the only point of rebellion in the Crownlands. Lord Staunton has publicly declared for Rhaenyra and refused to recognize Aegon as King. If we lose this battle, the supporters of the Black faction will grow even bolder. Those who support us will be crushed."
He paused, leaning in slightly.
"Do you understand?"
-----
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