The Council Chambers, The Red Keep.
At this moment, Aelyn's lips were pressed into a tight line.
"I understand," she said, "which is exactly why we need an experienced commander."
"An experienced commander?" Aemond repeated her words.
"What experience does Ser Cole have? His father was but a steward to a Lord. Did he study the arts of war? Just because he served the late King for many years? Because he is a tourney champion? Or because he is the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard? Is this what you call 'experience'?"
Aelyn's face flushed a deep red.
"Aemond!" Queen Mother Alicent's voice came from behind.
Aemond did not turn around. He only looked at Aelyn. Her chest heaved violently.
She wanted to retaliate, to say that Ser Cole was not what he claimed, that this was Aegon's command and he had no right to defy it.
But the words died in her throat. She saw the coldness in Aemond's eyes, a look that made her swallow every word.
"Aemond."
Alicent walked to his side and grabbed his arm.
Her hand was trembling slightly. "Please," she whispered, low enough that only he could hear.
"Aemond, do not do this."
Aemond turned his head and looked at his mother. Alicent's eyes were rimmed with red. She had aged. Since Viserys's death, she had aged significantly.
Those once-bright green eyes were now perpetually misted, and fine lines had appeared on her once-well-maintained face.
She was begging him. In front of everyone, she was begging him.
Aemond remained silent for a long time before speaking slowly.
"Very well."
Queen Aelyn and Queen Mother Alicent were stunned. He had agreed so readily?
Aemond turned back to the head of the table. He did not sit. He stood behind the chair, gripping the back.
"Gwayne."
Gwayne Hightower stood up.
"Here."
"For this battle, I shall have Ser Cole serve as the vanguard." He hesitated for a moment, then looked at his uncle Gwayne.
"The overall command shall fall to you."
A flash of satisfaction crossed Gwayne's face as he nodded.
"Understood."
Aemond then turned to Ser William Darklyn.
"Ser William, you shall be responsible for the left flank."
William stood. "As you command."
Aemond tilted his head and glanced at Hal.
"Hal."
Behind him, Hal took a step forward.
"Here."
"You are responsible for the right flank." He paused.
"Take those boys, my personal guard, with you."
Hal's eyes lit up. "Yes!"
They had trained for years for this very day.
Hal took a deep breath. "Thank you, Prince."
Aemond nodded. He was about to dismiss the meeting when Aelyn's voice rang out again.
"That was not His Majesty's order." She stood opposite the long table, clutching Jaehaera, her face burning.
"King Aegon's order was for Ser Criston Cole to serve as the overall commander."
She stared at Aemond.
"You just promised me."
Aemond turned to look at her.
"But I do not wish to accept the King's recklessness. I have assigned Ser Cole as the vanguard. That is the best arrangement."
He paused.
"The vanguard is the one who fights the first clash. If the battle goes well, a portion of the glory will be his. If the battle goes poorly..."
He didn't finish the sentence. Aelyn understood. If they won, Cole would get some credit. If they failed, Cole would be the first to die.
"You, " Aelyn's voice shook.
"Queen," Aemond interrupted her.
"Shut up."
Aelyn's body froze. Those two words were like a blade thrust straight into her chest.
She opened her mouth to argue, to say she was the Queen, that Aegon was the King... but she saw Aemond's cold expression.
He had looked at her the same way two days after Aegon's ascension, when she suggested the King take a more active role in state affairs.
Aemond had flatly rejected it then. A few days ago, she had received a letter from House Rogare in Lys.
It was brief: "Volantis has begun to besiege Lys. Your brother Lysandro hopes you can endure. Find an opportunity to persuade your husband, Aegon II, to send troops to lift the siege."
She had endured then. Now, he was making her endure again. Aelyn's eyes grew moist; she felt the weight of a Queen's crown was far too suffocating.
Tears welled, but she gritted her teeth, refusing to let them fall. She would not cry in front of this detestable in-law.
Alicent looked at her, her lips moving, but she said nothing. Aemond withdrew his gaze.
"Dismissed."
No one dared linger. Gwayne Hightower was the first to rise, bowing to Aemond, his sister Alicent, and Queen Aelyn before turning to leave.
As the uncle of both Aegon and Aemond, he knew the vast difference between the two nephews.
He would be a fool to side with Aegon, even if his sister pressured him to.
He knew exactly what kind of man Aemond was; if truly angered, Aemond would show no mercy, uncle or not.
Ser William Darklyn and Will Simmons followed closely behind, hurrying away. It was clear that what followed was a family dispute; they wanted no part in it.
Larys Strong was the last to rise. He leaned on his cane and limped toward the door. At the threshold, he looked back.
Aemond stood at the head of the table, bathed in the light streaming from behind him. Larys remained silent, pushed open the door, and left.
He knew today's "chair incident" was a deliberate warning and humiliation.
This young Prince had seized power in a few short years, kept the late King under house arrest, and viewed the current King as a puppet. Arrogant, cruel, yet brilliant.
The Lords of the Crownlands flocked to him; King's Landing and the Red Keep were in his grip, and both administration and military power were under his thumb.
Even the Southern Lords submitted to him. The power he held now surpassed even that of the late King Viserys I.
Larys wanted to be Hand, to be a power behind the Throne, to be like this Prince. He didn't want to be mocked as "Larys the Clubfoot" anymore. Only power could bring him self-respect.
The door closed behind him. Only four remained in the hall: Aemond, Alicent, Aelyn, and the infant.
Alicent took a deep breath and walked toward Aemond.
"Aemond."
Aemond didn't look at her.
"Aegon is your brother."
Aemond remained silent.
"He is the King!" Alicent's voice rose.
"Is His Majesty's dignity so worthless to you now?"
Aemond finally looked at her. His gaze was calm.
"Mother. I want to win this war."
He paused. "I don't need you all giving me blind directions."
Alicent's chest heaved. "Blind directions? I believe Ser Cole, "
"I don't care what you believe," Aemond interrupted.
"I care what I believe." He looked at her.
"Mother, you are tired, and you have aged. From now on, stay in Maegor's Holdfast and take care of Helaena and the children. You don't need to involve yourself in these matters anymore."
Alicent turned pale. "Aemond..."
Aemond looked toward the door.
"Hal."
Hal stepped inside and stood before Alicent, bowing his head.
"Queen Mother, please do not make this difficult for me."
She looked at Aemond, but he had already turned his head away.
She glanced at Queen Aelyn, who stood there clutching Jaehaera, her eyes red and lips pressed tight.
"Aelyn," Alicent said, "come with me."
Aelyn started to follow.
"No," Aemond's voice rang out.
"She stays."
Alicent spun around. "Aemond!"
"Rest easy, Mother," Aemond said flatly.
"She is my sister-in-law and the Queen. I won't do anything to her."
Alicent hesitated, then sighed and walked out. The door clicked shut.
Aemond walked toward Aelyn. She began to back away until she hit the wall. Aemond stopped right in front of her, looking down with violet eyes that held no warmth.
"Aelyn Rogare," he said softly.
"I warned you. Again and again..."
He pressed closer. Her eyes were red, and tears finally began to flow. "Aemond!" She looked at him in fear.
"What do you want? Why have you kept me here?"
Aemond didn't speak. He just watched her.
Then, "Waaa!" Jaehaera woke up, startled by her mother's distress, and let out a loud cry. Aelyn instinctively hugged her tighter, rocking her.
"Don't cry, don't cry..."
Aemond's movement stopped. He looked at the bundle. After a moment, he reached out. Aelyn froze, but he didn't touch her.
His hand went past her, settling against the wall beside her face.
He gently tucked a stray silver lock behind her ear, a strand that had escaped her bun, dampened by sweat and tears.
Aelyn's breathing hitched.
"I told you," Aemond said.
"Be a good Queen. Fulfill your responsibilities. Do not meddle."
His fingers pulled away. "Aegon is my brother. I know what I am doing."
Aelyn looked at him. Those violet eyes were so close. He was so young, sixteen, three years younger than her.
Yet there was no hesitation, no nervousness, none of the awkwardness a boy might feel toward a woman. Only scrutiny.
"Understand?"
Aelyn nodded helplessly. Then, Aemond reached out.
"Give her to me."
Aelyn was stunned, but Aemond didn't wait for her to react. He gently took Jaehaera from her arms. The infant was still crying, her face flushed red.
Aemond turned and walked toward the window. Holding her with one hand, he pulled back the curtain with the other.
Golden, warm midday sunlight flooded in. Jaehaera's crying slowed. Aemond rocked her gently, humming a low tune.
She blinked, looking up at the man holding her. The sunlight dyed his silver hair into a silver-gold and made his violet eyes transparent.
She reached out a tiny hand and grabbed the tip of his nose, squeezing it.
Aemond smiled.
Aelyn stood by the window, staring at his silhouette. She had never seen this side of Aemond.
"This Princess," Aemond said, his back still to her, "does not have a dragon yet, does she?"
Aelyn blinked, her heart jumping. After giving birth, the first thing she wanted was to pick a hatchling from the Dragonpit, but the guards had told her that all eggs and hatchlings required Prince Aemond's personal approval.
"That little silver dragon that just hatched," Aemond said.
"Lumina."
He turned and walked back to her, placing the infant back into her arms.
Jaehaera was giggling now, her tiny hands waving in the air.
"Give the dragon to her."
Aelyn's breath caught. Lumina.
The little silver dragon with scales like pure silver and eyes like molten gold.
Only a few months old, yet already able to puff out thin wisps of smoke. Every Dragonkeeper who had seen it said she would be a beauty when she grew.
She had assumed those dragons would be reserved for Aemond's own children.
"Thank you, Prince," she said gratefully.
Aemond looked at her. "Jaehaera is a Targaryen Princess."
He paused. "A dragon is the mark of royalty. As a Targaryen, she should not be without one."
With that, he turned and left.
-----
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