Everyone was utterly shocked.
Since the founding of the kingdom, a king had only ever been replaced upon his death—never had a ruler willingly abdicated.
Viserys' heartfelt speech struck the hearts of those present like a hammer.
"No!"
Daemon suddenly stood up, his face dark. "I don't agree. You are my brother, and I only recognize you as king."
If Viserys were to die of illness, Daemon would not oppose someone succeeding him.
But as long as his brother was still breathing, he refused to let him retreat from the throne and cast him aside.
Viserys remained silent, his expression solemn as he took on the authority of an elder brother. "Daemon, you are my brother. That means you should support my decision even more."
Daemon's sharp, hawk-like eyes locked onto his brother's gaze.
Their eyes met, clashing like blades in silent combat.
Rhaegar, caught between them, felt his mind go blank, unable to form a single word.
He was in complete shock.
There was no doubt about that.
When he had come to wake his father, it had only been to discuss punishing the Sea Snake and to draft a five-year development plan for King's Landing, the Stepstones, and the Three Daughters.
Abdication?
That was absurd. It had never even been considered.
Rhaegar struggled to process the situation, his mind caught in a storm of thoughts.
"Father wants to abdicate?"
This single sentence carried more weight than an entire war.
"Rhaegar, Rhaegar,"
A soft whisper reached his ears.
Rhaegar snapped out of his internal turmoil, his thoughts returning to reality.
He lowered his gaze.
Rhaenyra looked tense, tugging discreetly at his sleeve as she urgently reminded him, "You need to say something."
Rhaegar hesitated slightly.
Rhaenyra's eyes widened in frustration, as if scolding him for his sluggishness. She leaned in and whispered, "Don't let Father's efforts go to waste."
Their father's health was deteriorating; he no longer had the strength to rule.
Alicent, Corlys, Daemon—those with the potential to challenge the decision—were divided, unable to form any effective resistance.
With the overwhelming prestige gained from their recent victories, Rhaegar's succession would be perfectly justified. He would inherit a prosperous kingdom built by their great-grandfather and father.
Rhaegar blinked rapidly, just as he had when he was a child, staring at Rhaenyra.
His gaze dropped lower—to Baelor, who was sound asleep.
The little boy was curled up peacefully, small and endearing, like a clingy little creature.
Rhaegar took a deep breath. Images of his father, Rhaenyra, and the two children flashed through his mind, and suddenly, he felt certain of what he had to do.
A thought passed through his mind.
"The time has come!"
Viserys broke eye contact with Daemon and turned to ask, "Rhaegar, tell your father—what is in your heart at this moment?"
Daemon's expression darkened, his hand tightening around his wine cup, knuckles turning white.
This sudden revelation was something he simply could not accept.
When they were young, his brother had refused to name him as heir.
Now, in middle age, he was planning to pass the throne directly to his nephew.
Jealousy twisted his features.
Corlys, Rhaenys, and the others were equally stunned, unable to get a word in.
A king stepping down and naming his successor?
In over a century of Targaryen rule, this had never happened before.
This was no trivial matter.
Only one person remained composed.
Alicent sat with her head bowed, eyes shut tightly, whispering fervent prayers to the Seven.
Her slightly trembling body made it obvious—
She was afraid.
"Father, I accept."
Faced with his father's direct question, Rhaegar no longer hesitated. He responded firmly and powerfully: "If you are weary of sitting on the Iron Throne, then from this day forward, I will take that burden upon myself."
"I swear—the Targaryen dynasty will usher in a new era of dragon rule!"
As the words left his lips, his gaze became unwavering—sharp like a freshly forged blade.
"Good!"
Viserys exclaimed, his frail body trembling with emotion as he gasped for breath. His voice carried a quiver of excitement.
"My child, the Iron Throne is yours."
Conquering new lands, restoring peace to the kingdom, witnessing his eldest son take the throne—
Having done these three things, he could say his life had been well spent.
Bang!
The wine cup slammed onto the table, causing the plates to clatter.
Daemon's face was thunderous. Ignoring all royal etiquette, he turned and strode toward the door.
It wasn't anger or jealousy—
It was the realization that his brother had never truly considered him family.
From beginning to end, he had always been the one left out.
"Daemon, stop!"
Just as he took a few steps, Viserys' weak yet commanding voice called out from behind him.
Daemon halted in his steps, turning back to glance at the anxious face behind him. With a hint of petulance, he scoffed, "You already have the most outstanding heir in the world. Why would you need me?"
"You ungrateful bastard! Are you trying to drive me to my grave?!"
Viserys was furious, his face flushing unnaturally as he bellowed, "I am your only ally in this court! Everything I have given you, you've squandered without a second thought."
Daemon curled his lips in disdain, scoffing at his words.
Viserys pressed on, his frustration mounting. "I'm abdicating. Are you really going to continue indulging yourself, acting like a child who refuses to grow up?"
Hearing this, Daemon's stern expression faltered ever so slightly. A crack formed in the defenses he had carefully built around his heart.
Viserys sighed deeply and said, "Rhaegar is my eldest son, and his abilities are undeniable. You are his uncle, but more importantly, you are his most capable ally."
Then, looking straight into Daemon's eyes, he implored, "Brother, don't make me teach you—again—how to treat a king."
Once Viserys stepped away from the center of power, Daemon would be left to fend for himself.
No one would protect a reckless and defiant scoundrel.
His words struck deep. For once, Daemon fell silent, stubbornly turning his head away.
His heart pounded, and his fingers, so skilled with bow and blade, twitched involuntarily.
The last time he had a heated argument with Viserys was the night after his dear nephew was born.
That night, he had mocked his nephew in a Flea Bottom brothel, calling him a "one-day prince."
Otto's spies had wasted no time relaying the insult to Viserys, who was already drowning in grief over his wife's death.
Daemon had been berated harshly, almost losing his tongue for his insolence.
And now, once again, they were arguing because of his dear nephew.
Daemon racked his brain, searching for a retort—ten thousand comebacks swirled in his mind, yet not a single one left his lips.
The last time, he had fought back.
He had lashed out at Viserys, calling him weak-willed and a puppet to the bloodsuckers in the Small Council.
As a result, he was exiled from King's Landing for the first time.
This time, he chose silence.
Not out of fear of Viserys—he knew his brother wouldn't dare lay a hand on him.
But because there was nothing to refute.
Viserys had made the right decision. His precious nephew did, in fact, have a firm grip on power.
Daemon just…
He lowered his gaze, glancing sideways at the younger Rhaegar, and for the first time, a flicker of jealousy sparked in his otherwise indifferent eyes.
Viserys would never trust him the way he trusted his nephew.
Daemon should not have been at this banquet. He did not belong in the Red Keep.
His very presence felt like that of an outsider desperately trying to force his way in.
Daemon stared at Rhaegar.
Rhaegar stared back.
His long silver hair cascaded over his shoulders, and his sharp eyes seemed to peer directly into Daemon's soul.
Yet, he did not speak.
He did not try to advise Daemon or comfort his father.
This was an argument between the previous generation. It was not his place to interfere.
Every word he spoke would alter the course of the brothers' relationship.
Like everyone else at the table, he, too, chose silence.
"Daemon!"
Viserys spoke again, this time with an unmistakable command in his voice. "Sit back down. Don't make me repeat myself."
The words fell heavily.
Laena glanced at her husband, her eyes brimming with worry.
She didn't want him to anger the king again and risk being exiled once more.
Daemon cast her a sideways glance, utterly unmoved by her silent plea.
No one could dictate his actions.
Viserys fixed his gaze on him, his frustration boiling over. "Stop trying to influence him! Let the bastard decide for himself whether he stays or leaves!"
Before stepping down from the throne, Viserys needed to see Daemon's resolve.
Thud. Thud.
Firm, deliberate footsteps echoed through the hall.
Daemon's expression twisted slightly. After a brief hesitation, he strode forward, his movements brisk.
Pulling out his chair, he dropped into it with a heavy thud.
The legs of the chair scraped against the marble floor, producing a sharp, grating screech—like a sulking child making his displeasure known.
"Hmph!" Viserys let out a cold snort at the display. But despite his stern expression, some of the anger in his eyes faded, his mind momentarily clearing.
At least this little bastard still had a shred of conscience.
Daemon scowled, grabbing his goblet and downing a mouthful of wine.
If he had any conscience left, he'd rather let the stray dogs in the streets lick it clean.
Viserys, paying him no further mind, turned to his eldest son. "Rhaegar, don't let the fact that Daemon is my brother hold you back. From now on, command him as you see fit."
Rhaegar: …
He glanced between the two sulking men, internally exasperated.
If Aegon or Aemond ever dared to disrespect him like this, they would already be sprawled on the floor, bloodied and begging for mercy.
Of course, his father was not a warrior.
This was merely his way of asking him—without actually asking—not to dispose of dear Uncle Daemon too hastily.
Pfft!
Daemon, catching the implication, let out a derisive chuckle.
Rhaegar's brow twitched, black lines practically appearing above his head. He sighed. "Yes, Father."
I certainly won't hold back.
"Good boy."
Satisfied, Viserys's complexion regained some warmth.
Then, shifting his gaze toward Corlys, who had been watching the spectacle with amusement, he said earnestly, "While I still sit on this throne, if you have any requests, feel free to make them."
He was not an extraordinary king. The kingdom had thrived on the political legacy left behind by his grandfather, the Old King.
Having reaped the rewards of his predecessors, he hoped to leave his son with just as many hidden advantages.
The Small Council was competent enough to help bear the burden of ruling.
But with the recent annexation of the Stepstones, the Disputed Lands, and Dorne, even the council could not oversee everything.
Daemon and the Sea Snake are the true power behind ruling the overseas territories of the Narrow Sea.
The eldest son is ruthless and unlikely to tolerate the two of them.
He must put aside his prejudices and personally win them over.
Corlys suppressed his emotions and displayed his true capability. "Your Majesty, your sincerity moves me. Forgive my bluntness."
Since the other party was being sincere, there was no need for him to play coy.
Honesty was the best approach.
Viserys waved his hand and smiled. "In my court, I always encourage my subjects to speak their minds."
Corlys nodded in approval and stated his demand. "I have lost an heir, and Driftmark has no successor. I request that the royal family compensate me with a new heir."
"..."
Rhaegar and Viserys exchanged glances, both visibly shocked.
How exactly does one compensate for that?
Rhaenys was a step behind in realizing the implication, but when she did, her gaze sharpened as she stared at the Sea Snake.
Where was the royal family supposed to find him an heir?
Unless… her husband had someone else in mind.
As soon as the thought formed, even with her usual confidence, the innate nature of a woman led her to suspicion.
The children were oblivious, but the adults, seeing Rhaenys' expression, began to speculate.
Especially Daemon.
His expression shifted in an instant. First, he looked at the Sea Snake in surprise, then his gaze grew increasingly intrigued.
This brother-in-law and father-in-law of his… had some tricks up his sleeve.
read my new story
Marvel FRIEZA DBZ
NBA Grind to NBA King