The Small Council Chamber.
With the heroes of the rebellion's return, the Small Council was convened as usual.
"Your Majesty, this is a new herb," Orwyle said, whispering to the king with a sincere expression.
Viserys tilted his head to listen, examining the ointment in the round ceramic jar. It was a dark paste with a strong, bitter smell of grass.
"Will it really work?" Viserys looked skeptical.
Orwyle pondered for a moment, then reassured him, "I've modified it based on Grand Maester Mellos's ointment. I believe it will be effective." For some reason, the ointment left by the previous Grand Maester was quite ordinary. The recipes in the Citadel were old-fashioned and outdated. Of course, they weren't bad, but the king's wound had been a chronic condition for a long time, and ordinary, mild ointments were ineffective. He had added a few stronger herbs to the mix.
"Alright, I'll try it when I get back, and you can apply the ointment," Viserys said, still with some doubt. After years of ineffective treatment, he had given up hope in the Citadel. Orwyle's duties were limited to clerical tasks.
"Serious illnesses require strong medicine," Orwyle, not a man of many words, spoke a profound truth.
Viserys was startled by his words and looked at him with new eyes. It had been years since anyone had lectured him on the truth. Young man, you have caught my attention.
Knock, knock, knock!
Several royal ministers entered one after another.
"Your Majesty."
A familiar voice sounded, startling Viserys, who was concentrating on the ointment. Two servants carried in a chair, and Otto sat slumped in it, looking frail.
"Why are you here?" Viserys was so surprised he almost stood up.
Otto gasped and smiled bitterly, "As a royal minister, I cannot be away from the court for long."
Viserys was left speechless and let him be.
Soon, Alicent strode in, wearing a long green embroidered dress. When she saw Otto, a look of astonishment flashed in her eyes before she regained her composure and sat down next to Viserys. When there is a disagreement, silence is best.
"Alicent~" Otto's eyes were complicated as he realized he had truly lost power. He had hoped to use the marriages of his grandsons and granddaughters to further expand the family's influence. However, a series of twists and turns led to his brother Hobert's unexpected death. His nephew Gwayne defied all odds and waged war against the Hightower Tyrells, their feudal lords.
Up until then, he had been putting the brakes on the war. But Aegon's entry into the conflict and the serious injury of Lord Garlan catapulted the Hightowers' advantage to its peak. Everyone, including him, believed the Hightowers had won the war. From the shadows, he had stepped forward.
As fate would have it, Aemond intervened, turning the tide of the battle. The Hightowers lost. Not to Hightower Tyrell, nor to Rowan and the Tarlys. They lost to themselves. The Greens' internal divisions led to the Oldtown Hightowers' embarrassing exit. By the time Otto realized this, it was too late to remedy the situation.
"I misjudged our strength. The defeat is not unjust," he sighed softly.
Suddenly, the sound of gongs and drums echoed outside. A member of the Kingsguard approached the hall, his face solemn, and announced in a loud voice: "Welcome, Aemon Targaryen, 'Bronze and Fire Born,' Dragonslayer, Prince Regent, Prince of the Vale, Lord of Myr, Lord of the Stepstones and the Narrow Sea, Breaker of Chains, Ashmaker..."
Everyone in the council hall looked up at the empty corridor outside. The Kingsguard's announcement wasn't addressed to them, but to the nobles and ministers crammed into Maegor's Holdfast, waiting to greet the Prince, his sons, and his daughters.
After reciting a long list of titles, Aemon walked from downstairs to upstairs. As the last title escaped his lips, Ser Steve of the Kingsguard cleared his dry throat and glanced sideways to see His Royal Highness approaching.
Aemon: "You're a little slow. Try harder next time."
"..."
Ser Steve: "Yes, Your Highness."
It was all because of His Royal Highness's numerous titles; he almost had as many attendees as a banquet. With one person for each title, the council hall wouldn't even be able to accommodate everyone.
"Welcome back, hero of the kingdom," Viserys rose, smiling and clapping.
Clap, clap, clap!
Even the Sea Snake rose and joined in the applause. Alicent smiled the brightest, her exquisite attire and radiant smile making her seem like a girl reverting to her youthful days of watching the fun.
Aemon held back his hand, signaling against such extravagance. He casually glanced at Otto, the only one who hadn't stood up.
Everyone else is standing, but you aren't. Everyone else is clapping, but you aren't. Do you have something against the king? This man must not be allowed to stay.
Noticing Aemon's unfriendly gaze, Otto glanced questioningly at his casted right leg, then at his bandaged left arm. "Who hit you? Answer me!"
"Aemon, did you have a smooth trip?" Viserys asked with concern.
"Yes, the credit goes to Thaddeus and Lord Donnel," Aemon said, as if it were normal.
Just then, three figures emerged from behind him. Aegon, Helaena, and Aemond stood in a row, striding after him. Aegon walked with a swagger, Aemond with a straight back. Helaena walked between the two brothers like a timid quail.
The king's children, the heroes who had suppressed the rebellion. Attending a royal council to celebrate their achievements was not presumptuous.
Viserys stared at his three children, momentarily lost in thought. The three siblings walked behind Aemon, their positions perfectly aligned. Suddenly, they resembled the Conquerors.
"The three princes and princesses are truly valiant," Corlys said, his back clenched.
Viserys had no time to pay attention. At that moment, he felt a slight improvement in his voting rights on the "Council of the Dragon." He couldn't help but recall his nephew's vision of the "Order of the Dragon."
"Old Valyria is destroyed." Viserys's eyes dimmed, and he abandoned any thoughts of his place.
"Be seated," he commanded, and everyone took their seats. Aemon naturally sat next to Rhaenyra, nodding to Alicent, who sat across from him.
"This chair suits me perfectly," Aegon said, flopping down in the seat below Aemon, his flaunting nature on full display.
Corlys glanced at him, then looked away.
Aemond sat down below Aegon, first feeling the difference in the chair, then using Aegon as a negative example to suppress the curl of his lips. He couldn't smile; he had to act natural.
Otto's eyes were deep as he looked at this good grandson who had betrayed the Hightower family.
Aemond felt a momentary unease, the guilt of a child caught in trouble by an adult. This scene happened to fall into Viserys's eyes as he observed his son. He buried his dissatisfaction deep within his heart.
"Pour wine for the ministers, Helaena," Alicent assigned her daughter a task.
Helaena was stunned for a moment, then began to serve.
Viserys felt sorry for her, but he held back. Aside from pushing Rhaenyra to the position of heir to the Iron Throne, he wasn't one for rebellion. On the contrary, he was very conservative. In raising his children, he inevitably followed his grandfather's preference for sons over daughters. Even knowing his youngest daughter was a dreamwalker, he paid little attention.
But Helaena surprised him again and again. She tamed the dragon Dreamfyre, a female dragon that had remained untamed for decades, and participated in suppressing rebellions in Myr and the Reach. While her role was largely insignificant, even the smallest contribution from the king's daughter was significant. Helaena deserved further training.
Viserys paused for a moment, then said, "Helaena is fine. She can serve as cupbearer, taking over her sister's duties."
"Me?" Helaena looked up blankly from pouring wine for Tyland.
Splash!
The wine overflowed from the glass, soaking Tyland's pants.
"Ah! Ah!"
Tyland scrambled back in his chair, looking rather helpless. He forced a smile and said, "Pour the wine, princess."
"My apologies, my lord," Helaena, holding the flagon, quickly took out a handkerchief to wipe the water.
Tyland dared not use hers, so he pulled out his own handkerchief and repeatedly protested that he didn't need it.
"You should give the young more opportunities, Lord Tyland," Viserys chuckled.
Tyland laughed too. It's just that his life is a bit miserable.
Aemon had been back in King's Landing for half a month. He had attended no less than seven or eight councils. They were either asking about the situation in the Reach or discussing Aegon's marriage partner. No real business was discussed.
But he had learned an important piece of news: the Dornish envoys.
Others didn't know, but Aemon did. The Dornish were making small moves in Prince's Pass, clearly intent on spying on the Seven Kingdoms. Qoren had actually sent envoys. He said one thing to your face and another behind your back. It was disgusting.
Aemon had wanted to tell his uncle Viserys to be on guard against the Dornish taking advantage of the situation. But Viserys's mind was not on this. He was more concerned with suppressing the rebellion in the Reach, and with his two sons, Aegon and Aemond, getting fiefs and happily holding a feast.
That's right. Viserys knew that Aegon had been imprisoned in the Hightower of Oldtown by Aemon. At first, he was furious, pointing at Aemon's nose and gritting his teeth. But after accepting reality, he also accepted the present.
Viserys was no mediocre person and had always harbored a fear of the Hightowers of Oldtown. After all, Alicent's children were half Hightower blood. A century later, his descendants, instigated by the Hightower family, could easily cause trouble. His nephew prematurely divided Aegon and Aemond's fiefdoms, specifically the richest part of the Reach.
While this smacked of execution first and then approval, it was essentially a reversal of priorities. After Rhaenyra ascended to the throne, her younger siblings would need to be managed. A fertile fiefdom, allowing their own bloodline to continue, was already a great achievement.
Some noble families expelled second and youngest sons, who were close in age to the eldest, from their homes. Some even went so far as to prevent the eldest son's claim to the throne from being threatened by forcing them to serve as Night's Watchmen at the Wall or maesters at the Citadel, eliminating any chance of competition at the root.
By comparison, Aemon was a kindhearted man. But Viserys, though understanding, was genuinely angry. He held his own banquet, ignoring his nephew, demonstrating his displeasure.
Aemon was speechless. Watching his uncle living in luxury, he decided to seek help to monitor the Dornish borderlands. This would prevent him from being caught off guard if the Dornish attacked.
However, someone else had gotten there first: the Sea Snake.
The sun was warm at noon.
In the Small Council Chamber.
Helaena, dressed in a dignified green dress, poured wine from glass to glass. Compared to the previous royal council meeting, there were two more seats today.
Lord Linman, the Chancellor of the Exchequer and Master of Coin, had returned to King's Landing after a long journey. And then there was Lord Thaddeus Rowan, the new "Warden of the South."
"Lord Thaddeus, loyal to the Lord, has served a great service in this civil strife. The kingdom will remember your service," Viserys said politely.
Thaddeus beamed with joy, offering humble thanks.
Aemon said, "I believe Lord Thaddeus deserves a seat on the Small Council." The expressions of the ministers present changed dramatically as he spoke.
Viserys hesitated, then said, "The Council is full. If a new seat is appointed, it will have to replace another member." This was what everyone else was thinking. Tyland and Linman, the elder and the younger, were particularly worried. Their positions, one young and the other old, were precarious.
Corlys then intervened, saying, "I believe the Council could be restructured to better facilitate the conduct of government."
"Oh?" Viserys's eyes narrowed.
Aemon had previously advised him of the offer of a seat on the Small Council for Thaddeus. The Rowan family was a great noble family. And they had also been credited with suppressing the rebellion, earning them the title of "Warden of the South." The terms negotiated by both sides weren't excessive. But Aemon and the Sea Snake were aligning, which seemed a little off.
"Father, what do you think?" Rhaenyra took Aemon's hand and made her position clear to her father.
Viserys's eyes fluttered. You married my daughter, and now you're turning against me.
Good boy, well done!
Viserys took a deep breath and said rationally, "Lord Thaddeus deserves a seat before the king, so I'll listen to your opinions and make some adjustments."
Corlys immediately said, "Lord Linman is old and can no longer manage the books." He immediately attacked the all-important purse.
"You!" Linman stood up abruptly, his face flushed with anger. I'm old!? Do you want to see how old you are? I'm three years younger than you.
"Be careful not to hurt your back, Lord Linman," Corlys straightened his back and placed his thick arms on the table. He grasped the wine glass with his palm, and the muscles in his arms tensed, revealing their outlines under the loose sleeves. Age is not a problem, what matters is strength and means. 'The Queen Who Never Was,' Rhaenys, has used it and it's all good.
"You, you, you..." Linman pointed at him, too anxious to speak. Isn't this bullying an honest man?
"Please sit down first, Lord Linman," Viserys couldn't stand this and spoke up to defend his old minister. Linman might be old, but he was loyal! He'd never made a mistake. Even as a bannerman of Hightower, he'd never sat crooked. Viserys knew it, and so did everyone else.
Aemon said, "Lord Linman has served his country for most of his life. I'm afraid retirement will be difficult for him."
"My Prince," Linman said, moved to tears.
"Don't worry, Lord Linman," Aemon said, fearing he might get too excited, so he compromised. "Lord Linman will still hold the keys to the treasury, but the duties of Master of Coin will be relinquished to a successor."
Linman swallowed his emotion and froze, bewildered. After so many years as Master of Coin, he'd grown accustomed to managing the purse strings, exploiting his position to make a few small profits.
Some were happy, others were sad. Thaddeus was delighted to hear that Linman was stepping down. Master of Coin is great! He loves... and knows how to manage money.
Viserys, remembering Mellos's departure and considering that Linman was indeed lacking energy, agreed. "Then Lord Linman will hold the keys to the treasury, and the position of Master of Coin will be replaced, allowing him to continue his duties in King's Landing."
Upon hearing this, Linman sat down dejectedly. After today, he was likely to semi-retire. He feared that the royal meetings he had previously shunned would become fewer and fewer.
"Your Majesty..." Thaddeus straightened his attire, his voice thick with anticipation.
Aemon and Viserys exchanged a glance. Aemon nodded slightly, then looked at the anxious Tyland and said sternly, "Lord Tyland, you will resign as Master of Laws and become the new Master of Coin."
"Me?" Tyland's eyes widened. Pie in the sky, I guess I heard right.
"Yes, you," Viserys confirmed. "Your diligence over the years has been witnessed by me and everyone here. You are more than capable of shouldering this responsibility."
"Thank you, Your Majesty!" Tyland rose immediately and bowed excitedly.
"The Master of Coin has been arranged. What about Lord Thaddeus?" Corlys suddenly spoke.
Aemon turned and stared at the silent Otto.
"Old fox, it's time to deal with you."
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