The news of Alysanne's betrothal spread like a spring breeze across every corner of the kingdom, and soon the realm was swept into a sea of jubilant celebration.
The next day dawned bright and clear. The high advisers of House Targaryen, dressed in their finest robes, made their way to the engagement ceremony, gathering together in solemn festivity. This ceremony, arranged for King Aegon and Princess Alysanne, was of extraordinary significance and thus prepared with exceptional grandeur.
Silken drapes cascaded from the ceiling like waterfalls, while dazzling crystal chandeliers bathed the hall in radiant light as bright as day. Banquet tables were laden with delicacies, their silverware gleaming brilliantly. Each dish, crafted with the utmost care by master chefs, released enticing aromas—every detail underscoring the splendor and majesty of the royal household.
The advisers, faces alight with smiles, offered their sincerest blessings to the King and Princess. Their eyes brimmed with anticipation, as if they already saw before them the splendor of the great wedding and the bright future King Aegon and Princess Alysanne would share.
After deliberation, it was decided that their wedding would take place three months hence, in King's Landing. Even more momentous, on that very day, Aegon would also be crowned as the second Emperor of the Targaryen Kingdom.
The news erupted across Westeros like fireworks bursting in the sky, igniting joy and fervor throughout the land. The realm had endured a dark decade of suffering, and now, at last, a day of celebration worthy of the whole kingdom had come. Hope and happiness filled every heart.
In Oldtown, Aegon solemnly declared a general amnesty for all minor offenders, in celebration of the upcoming coronation and royal wedding. This act of mercy drew cheers and gratitude from the people, deepening their devotion to their King.
As news of the wedding swept into King's Landing, the city seemed infused with boundless energy, bursting with new life. Within the Red Keep, nobles and servants alike busied themselves with preparations. In the streets, colorful banners fluttered in the wind and lanterns adorned every corner, filling the air with festive cheer.
Children laughed and played while their elders gathered to discuss the upcoming wedding, excitement in their voices. Smiles brightened every face as all eagerly awaited the day they could witness the splendor of the royal celebration with their own eyes.
The engagement ceremony itself unfolded in an atmosphere both warm and joyous. Guests raised their goblets, meeting one another's eyes with sincerity and blessing.
"Cheers."
"Cheers."
Short yet heartfelt toasts rang through the hall, and the clear chime of clashing goblets rose like a cheerful melody, weaving through every heart. It was as if the sound itself foretold the sweetness of Aegon and Alysanne's future together, and heralded a new age of prosperity for the Targaryen Kingdom.
After seven days of feasting, the celebrations drew to a triumphant close, and King Aegon's journey from Oldtown back to King's Landing became a grand triumphal procession in all but name.
Everywhere, he felt the love of his people. Along the roads, subjects presented humble offerings of grain and fruit—the simple fruits of their labor, but rich with sincerity. The crowds pressed in along the streets, cheering and rejoicing, and Aegon's heart swelled with joy. He saw with his own eyes that the kingdom was striding boldly toward prosperity.
As the procession advanced, members of the Poor Fellows who had once risen in rebellion knelt by the roadside, their eyes full of regret and plea. They begged Aegon's forgiveness, hoping for a pardon like that given to the "Red Dog."
In his good spirits, Aegon chose mercy—but with conditions. Those guilty of the gravest crimes must travel north to join the Night's Watch upon the Wall, to defend the realm's borders.
This decree was met with eager response. Hundreds, even thousands, swore to obey on the spot—including one of the Poor Fellows' own leaders, Robb "the Hungry."
Aegon knew this was the way of things—the natural course of rule. The strife of the White and Red factions, the uprisings of monsters, and the cruelty of Maegor's reign—all still rang in his ears like unending warnings.
And so he resolved to forge his courage and mercy into perfection, leaving no flaw for reproach. Under his rule, the kingdom would know lasting peace and prosperity.
At that moment, Lord Rogar sat in the carriage with several members of the Small Council. Together, they watched in silence as the young King Aegon pronounced judgment on the Poor Fellows—some were cloaked in black and sent to the Wall, while others were granted pardon.
Grand Maester Bennifer looked on with satisfaction and remarked, "Aegon has worn the crown only a few months, yet he has already achieved reconciliation between the Iron Throne and the Faith, bringing an end to the bloody strife that plagued his father's reign. Given time, he will surely become a wise and enlightened ruler."
Lord Rogar gave a slight nod in agreement. "He does indeed have the makings of a worthy king. But he is still young, and the road ahead is long. He will need more trials, more tempering."
The return journey was not as hurried as their ride out.
After departing Oldtown, Aegon's party traveled for several days before finally reaching Highgarden. By Aegon's prior instruction, Lord Bertrand Tyrell, steward of Highgarden, had prepared an opulent banquet in their honor and arranged for the court's senior advisers to lodge in the most secure and luxurious quarters deep within the castle.
As the new lord of Highgarden, Aegon hosted a magnificent feast there.
For over a week, the Targaryen advisers enjoyed the finest hospitality the Reach could offer, indulging in wine, delicacies, and every comfort Highgarden provided.
During this time, Lady Bertrand, Duchess of the Westerlands, extended a warm invitation to Queen Regent Rhaena to visit Casterly Rock. Since the death of her grandfather, Rhaena had seldom felt such earnest respect from the great lords of the realm. Filled with delight, she gladly accepted the Duchess's invitation.
Upon hearing this, Aegon entrusted the Red Dog of the Hills to escort the Queen Regent on her journey.
When the royal court prepared to depart Highgarden, Queen Regent Rhaena parted ways with Lord Bertrand and the main procession.
...
Upon her arrival at Casterly Rock, Rhaena toured the castle, surrounded by the noble ladies of the Westerlands. At first, she was pleased, enjoying the bustle and the honors showered upon her. Yet as days passed, she began to sense something amiss beneath the hospitality.
A Septa in the castle even asked her handmaiden, Crinette, whether the Queen Regent fancied any man.
Worse still, Ser Berland Lannister—the handsome son of Lord Bertrand—constantly tried to impress her, boasting of his bravery and flaunting scars earned in defiance of Maegor's rule. His displays felt forced, too deliberate.
Meanwhile, Lord Bertrand himself showed an unusual fascination with the royal dragons. He pressed Rhaena with questions about their hatching, breeding, and mating, even going so far as to openly offer a staggering sum of gold for a dragon egg.
At last, Rhaena understood. The Duke of Casterly Rock and his Lady's lavish hospitality was nothing more than a facade. Beneath it lay cunning schemes and unbridled ambition.
On one hand, Lord Bertrand clearly sought to wed his son—or another close kinsman—to Rhaena, binding House Lannister directly to the Iron Throne. In his calculations, such a union would raise his house above the Hightowers, the Baratheons, and the Velaryons, elevating the Lannisters to the second-greatest family in the realm, basking in power and prestige.
On the other hand, he coveted the dragons. He knew well that if his house could breed a dragonrider, the Lannisters might one day stand equal to House Targaryen—or even surpass them to dominate all of Westeros.
...
Meanwhile, Aegon's own return to King's Landing was far from free of trouble.
Countless noble maidens of the Reach swarmed around him like bees. Somehow, the nobles had learned the king's route, and many brought not only their daughters and nieces but even their wives, hoping to forge ties with the royal family.
In the Reach, women held high status, and their customs were notably open. These women, driven by desire for power, wealth, and influence, knew that dragonseed meant access to all they sought.
To them, House Targaryen stood closest to the gods themselves. Scholars of the Citadel had even coined the "Targaryen Exception," the principle that Targaryens transcended the dogmas of the Faith and the bounds of worldly morality, seemingly blessed by the gods to remain free of disease.
Since the day Aenar the Exile first set foot upon Dragonstone, this belief had spread until it became common knowledge across Westeros.
No Targaryen had ever perished from smallpox or the blood plague, nor succumbed to afflictions like red spot, brownleg, or epilepsy. They were immune to many of the gods' strangest curses—wormbone, lungclot, sourbelly, and countless others.
The people believed this immunity came from the dragonblood flowing in their veins, fire within their blood that could burn away plague and pestilence.
And so, as heirs of Valyria, the Targaryens stood apart from all other nobles of Westeros—crane among chickens, unmatched, admired, and envied. Their very blood drew endless covetous eyes and schemes.
"Your Grace, I beg you—please grant me the chance to serve you."
A maiden of striking beauty stood outside Aegon's chamber door, her voice heavy with pleading. Her eyes shimmered with hope as she clutched the hem of her dress, trembling slightly, as though it had taken all her courage to speak those words.
Though Aegon felt a flicker of emotion, he firmly refused her request. He knew all too well that now was not the time for reckless indulgence. After all, he was soon to wed his cousin Alysanne, and any indiscretion before their marriage would surely sow doubt in her heart.
It was true that Aegon had secretly favored a few maidens of late, but he had taken great care to conceal those encounters, fearful that Alysanne might discover something.
...
Half a month after the royal court's return to King's Landing, Rhaena came back from the Westerlands riding her dragon, Dreamfyre.
Aegon was puzzled to see her alone, wondering why she had not returned with her entourage. But when Rhaena recounted all that had happened to her in the Westerlands, his fury erupted.
Had the decade of turmoil within the Targaryen dynasty truly stripped the great lords of Westeros of their reverence for the crown? That the Duke of the Westerlands would so brazenly covet a royal dragon, and even scheme to wed Queen Regent Rhaena—what madness had clouded their judgment?
In his rage, Aegon immediately issued a royal decree commanding the Lannister duke and his insolent son to present themselves in King's Landing and answer for their crimes.
Yet as his anger cooled, Aegon began to understand. His youth upon ascending the throne and his early policies of mercy had perhaps led some fools to mistake him for a weak and pliant king.
Still, condemning a duke was no simple matter. And with the realm only just regaining stability, even the slightest misstep risked igniting fresh unrest.
Thus, Aegon ordered the maesters to send word to every duke across the continent, summoning them to King's Landing in advance for a trial that would concern one of their highest peers.
...
When Duke Bertrand received the king's summons, dread gnawed at him. He knew in his heart he had overstepped gravely, that he had underestimated this Targaryen sovereign—and worse, this same king was soon to be crowned Emperor. If the matter went poorly, even the Lannister ducal title might not survive.
With such fears weighing on him, Bertrand steeled himself and set out for King's Landing.
Upon his arrival, he threw himself to the ground outside the Red Keep, pressing his forehead against the cold stone as he begged unceasingly for the king's forgiveness.
The sight quickly drew crowds. Within moments, thousands pressed in to watch, forming a dense circle around the duke who had always towered above them. Fingers pointed, whispers spread. Some mocked his disgrace, others speculated on what crime could have brought him so low. The noise rose into a restless clamor.
Aegon, however, paid it no mind. He was focused entirely on deepening his bond with Alysanne within the Red Keep. Though she had agreed to marry him, he knew their love was still too fragile.