"Father, look!"
Jaehaerys suddenly ran over, holding a green diamond-shaped scale.
"Where did you get it?"
Aemon exclaimed, glancing sideways at the young dragon, Sunfyre, who was swaying.
"It fell from Sunfyre,"
Jaehaerys said, his eyes wide with wonder.
Baena and Rhaena also came over, surrounding the green diamond-shaped scale and examining it curiously.
"How's he been eating lately?"
Aemon watched the young dragon, who was once again gnawing on a sheep.
Normally, dragons don't shed their scales unless they're broken in battle.
The green diamond-shaped scale in Jaehaerys's hand was intact and warm to the touch, unlike anything that happened naturally.
"I don't know,"
Jaehaerys replied, puzzled.
Aemon summoned the dragon handler and inquired about the dragons' progress.
They were fine in Riverdale, but why had they changed since returning to King's Landing?
"Prince Aemon, the dragons have good appetites, and every one of them is in excellent health,"
the elderly dragon handler replied solemnly.
Aemon nodded and ordered them to withdraw.
Since it wasn't a problem with their upbringing, the only possible cause was the young dragon Sunfyre's special bloodline.
After all, it was hatched from an egg left over from the days of Old Valyria. It was understandable that it was a little different from a normal dragon.
"Shhh!"
Sunfyre's pupils widened, and he spread his scarlet wings, unleashing a stream of green dragonfire at the remains of the sheep.
In an instant, only a charred mark remained.
"He's indeed very healthy."
Aemon compared it with the green diamond-shaped scales, noting that one of the thorn-like protrusions on its back was missing.
Different breed, different.
It's unclear if it can be replaced.
If not, drilling a hole in it would be a nice accessory.
"Father, look at our dragon."
Baena and Rhaena approached, each sister pulling a reluctant dragon.
Moondancer: ...
Dawn: ...
The Red Keep.
The Queen's chambers.
"Come in,"
Alicent said idly, watching insects with her daughter.
Creak!
Otto pushed open the door, dressed meticulously.
"Father, what are you doing here?"
Alicent was a little confused and climbed up from the cashmere carpet.
"I have something to talk to you about."
Otto smiled slightly, his eyes scanning the two maids in the room sharply.
Alicent saw this and waved the maids to leave.
Bang!
The door closed, and only three generations of grandparents and grandchildren were left.
Otto no longer concealed anything and said straight to the point: "Rhaenyra's power is growing. If Aegon does not take action, he will never be able to regain the Iron Throne."
"Oh, really?"
Alicent covered her mouth with her hand, her eyes full of confusion.
"Aegon is the king's eldest son, and it is only natural for him to inherit the throne."
Otto saw his daughter's weakness and directly emphasized the law of succession.
"Uh..."
Alicent bit her nails and couldn't continue.
As a mother, she knew Aegon's character best.
It was a bit forced.
Otto walked around the round table in the hall, sat down on a chair, and said sternly, "If Aegon doesn't become crown prince, and Rhaenyra inherits the throne instead, wouldn't that be chaos?"
He gestured for his daughter to sit down.
Alicent, feeling helpless, sat upright across the table.
Instead of talking to her father, she preferred to spend time with her daughter watching boring insects.
"Viserys isn't old yet, and Aegon is in the prime of his youth. If he performs well, he'll easily win praise from all over the Seven Kingdoms."
Otto reasoned, offering an example: "Aegon single-handedly annihilated an Ironborn fleet led by Greyjoy in the Firth of Sea as perfect proof of this."
In short, Aegon was the king's eldest son, a noble dragon rider, naturally qualified to ascend the Iron Throne.
He was the right choice!
"Haha,"
Helena couldn't help but laugh as she observed the number of legs on the insect.
Otto's face darkened, and he glanced at his granddaughter.
Alicent quickly blocked his view, saying seriously, "Father, Aegon's ambition is not here. Your plan is doomed to failure."
Aegon might have preferred cuddling beautiful women and getting drunk to the point of drunkenness to the Iron Throne.
She had already given up.
Otto remained persistent, frowning, "That's because he hasn't tasted power yet, and that's why he's fallen."
In his eyes, his grandson Aegon wasn't a scrap of scrap.
He was a gem in the rough.
Neither the king nor his daughter Alicent were qualified craftsmen; only he, her grandfather, could perfect it.
Alicent was speechless.
Father and daughter were always at odds.
She simply wanted to elevate her status, to rival Rhaenyra's.
She didn't want to bow down to Rhaenyra and fawn over her.
As for the children, she wasn't particularly worried.
Viserys was partial, but he wasn't a fool. He wouldn't allow the treacherous Rhaenyra to persecute their children.
Now that Aegon, Helena, and Aemond have become dragon riders, their power has reached another level.
Even the impulsive and irritable Rhaenyra would not dare to harm them easily.
"Aegon will sit on a wooden throne."
Just as the father and daughter fell silent, Helena suddenly spoke.
"What did you say?"
Alicent, not quite hearing, turned away in confusion.
"Are you sure?!"
Otto, having heard, leaped from his chair.
Helena lowered her head, fiddling with her jars, muttering quietly, "Someone pushed him, someone hurt him, and everything lost its original beauty."
She seemed to have seen the future, but the blurry image was too vague to grasp the key.
But she wanted to speak out.
True or false, it was no longer suppressed.
"See, Aegon will eventually sit on the throne,"
Otto said happily to his daughter, a smile rising.
This confirmed his thoughts.
"A wooden throne!"
Alicent, irritated, raged. "Didn't you hear? Someone will hurt Aegon."
As a mother, she worried more about her child's safety.
"He's the blood of the dragon, who could harm him?"
Otto cared more about power.
"Can you please stop dreaming?"
Alicent, completely enraged, her eyes reddening. "I tell you the truth, Viserys has never, ever considered removing Rhaenyra and replacing Aegon with the Iron Throne."
"Never!"
He trembled slightly with the last word.
Otto fell silent.
"I want some peace and quiet."
Alicent lowered her head and pointed to the door.
"I'll reconsider this,"
Otto said, pushing the door open.
Bang!
The door closed, and the corridor darkened.
Otto's eyes were deep, with only one thought in his mind:
Viserys was even more stubborn than he had imagined.
Leaping over the heir, Aegon, to support his eldest daughter, Rhaenyra, was a recipe for chaos.
There was no other way.
Otto straightened his clothes and strode towards the Grand Maester's tower.
The next day.
The sky was just beginning to brighten, and the early morning air in King's Landing was a bit chilly.
Aemon lay on his side at the end of the bed, his arms wrapped around Rhaenyra's slender waist, his face pressed against her smooth, firm, soft belly. Rhaenyra's belly was white and tender, and there was soft flesh when you gently pinched it.
A supreme enjoyment!
As they slept soundly, there was a bang on the door.
"Who?"
Rhaenyra's beautiful eyes forced open a crack, her voice thick and sticky.
From outside came the solemn voice of Ser Lorent, a member of the Kingsguard: "Your Highness, there is urgent military information in the straits, and the King has called an impromptu meeting of the council."
"Hmm!?"
Rhaenyra's eyes widened, and she sat up with her long hair loose.
Silver-gold hair cascaded down her white gauze nightgown, pushed to her waist, revealing her snow-white shoulders and the curve of her hips beneath the covers.
Aemon refused to let go, shaking his head in protest.
"The sea serpent's dead!"
Why hold a meeting so early in the morning? Do you think I'm a slave working from 9:00 to 9:00 or 9:00 to 11:00, knocking on the door before dawn, waiting for my answer?
"Stop it, wake up!"
Rhaenyra rubbed her vacant face, her struggle also lifeless. She's been planning a second child lately, and she stayed up too late last night.
She can't take it anymore.
Silence fell outside the door.
The two of them had been dawdling from the five-am Wolf Hour to the six-am Nightingale Hour.
In the Council Hall.
Everyone was already there when Aemon arrived.
With dead eyes, Aemon sat slumped in a chair, picking up an emerald stone ball and clocking in.
Crack!
With the crisp sound of the stone ball hitting the chassis, Aemon's eyelids drooped, his head tilted, motionless.
It seemed... a little dead.
"Sorry, we're late."
Rhaenyra wasn't much better, sitting nearby and apologizing sheepishly.
Viserys looked at his nephew and daughter, wanting to say something but stopping himself.
Finally, he gave a very sincere exhortation: "Young man, take care of yourselves."
"Father, it's not what you think."
Rhaenyra's face flushed.
"Don't bother, I understand."
Viserys interrupted with a wave of his hand, glancing at his listless nephew with a bit of heartache: "Rhaenyra, you're my sister, you should be understanding."
"I'm not."
Rhaenyra's head was boiling with heat.
The ministers watched with their eyes and noses, their noses and hearts, all with the expressions of experienced people.
Only Alicent hid her hands under the table, digging at each other, secretly gritting her teeth.
An unsatisfied indulgent person!
The little episode was over, and it was time to get down to business.
Otto stood, pulled a letter from his bosom, and said solemnly, "A raven arrived this morning from the Fjords, bearing news of the remnants of the Three Kingdoms and the various threats facing the Free Cities."
Viserys raised his chin, motioning for him to read it.
The letter had been delivered by a sea serpent.
It concerned important developments on both sides of the Fjords.
The Ironborn fleet docked in Braavos, receiving a large donation of supplies, specifically steel for forging scorpion crossbows and arrows.
Volantis and Dorne officially opened trade, forming an alliance.
Prince Qoren has another daughter, and under the guise of a naming day, he has invited His Majesty the Iron Throne to discuss a marriage.
"They still harbor evil intentions!"
Viserys's face darkened, his grip on the gilded wine cup tight.
"Braavos and Volantis are determined to oppose the Iron Throne with these actions,"
said Hand Lyonel Strong.
The world is truly changing.
The Targaryens have grown powerful.
Braavos began nurturing its own enemies, and Volantis attempted to break the Iron Throne's trade restrictions on Dorne.
Both were working against the Iron Throne.
Aemon yawned and continued to lie still.
"Where are the Sea Serpents?"
Viserys asked.
Otto put down the letter and said, "The Sea Serpents are mobilizing their forces, preparing for an unknown invasion."
Aemon and Viserys nodded simultaneously.
With the Sea Serpents around, the Fjords could be safe.
Unless that Free City isn't afraid of death and wants to be the first to test the heat of the dragon's flames.
Setting aside external conflicts for now, let's discuss internal ones.
Viserys frowned and said unhappily, "Prince Chorren has been rather cold towards the Iron Throne in recent years. Why is he suddenly demanding a closer marriage?"
"I suspect it's Prince Aemond's fault,"
Otto confirmed.
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