Rhaenyra nodded; her expression was resolute. "I'm ready, I want to hear it."
Viserys nodded. "Our histories, they tell us that Aegon looked across the Blackwater from Dragonstone, saw a rich land ripe for capture. But ambition alone is not what drove him to conquest. It was a dream."
"A dream?" Rhaenyra tilted her head in curiosity.
"Just as Daenys foresaw the 'Doom of Valyria', which led her father to gather the Targaryens and bring them to Dragonstone, effectively saving our house from certain destruction. Aegon foresaw the end of the world of men."
Rhaenyra gasped. "You mean all men?"
Viserys nodded somberly. "It is to begin with a terrible winter gusting out of the distant north. Aegon saw absolute darkness riding on the biting winds of that winter. And whatever dwells within, will destroy the world of the living. When this great winter comes, Rhaenyra, all of Westeros must stand against it. And if the world of men is to survive, a Targaryen must be seated on the Iron Throne. A king or queen, strong enough to unite the realm against the cold and the dark." Viserys clenched his hand against the hilt of the dagger, made from dragonbone and dragonglass. "Aegon called his dream 'The Song of Ice and Fire'."
Viserys turned around, he unsheathed the dagger and threw it into a brazier. He watched as the metal slowly heated up.
Rhaenyra watched alongside him, puzzled by all that was happening.
"What I do now goes against everything I have been taught by my father. As this secret is only meant to be passed from king to heir." Viserys ran a hand through his hair. "Yet I do this, so that you may know the weight your brother will have to carry. And with the faint hope that perhaps you will help him shoulder this burden."
Rhaenyra nodded pensively.
When the blade began to glow orange from the heat, Viserys picked it up again, ignoring the biting pain in his hand.
Rhaenyra rushed to her father with a worried look.
"I have endured worse pains, my daughter," Viserys shook his head. "When Aegon learned that what he dreamt about wouldn't come during his time, he had the last pyromancers incise his prophecy into this dagger."
He turned the dagger and showed it to Rhaenyra, who now saw that it had words written on the side of the blade.
"Hen ñuha ānogar kessa māzigon Kivio Dārilaros, se zȳhon kessa sagon Vāedar Suvio Perzo." She read aloud, before speaking the same phrase in the common tongue once more. "From my blood will come the Prince That Was Promised, and his will be the Song of Ice and Fire."
Viserys nodded proudly. "I see you have been paying attention to your High Valyrian classes. That is good, I am proud of you, Rhaenyra."
Rhaenyra rolled her eyes but couldn't hide the happy smile that formed on her face.
"So, you see, Rhaenyra… Being king isn't just glory. It is an immense responsibility. Not only because of this," he sheathed the dagger. "But also, because of the snakes that lurk nearby. All seeking even the faintest weakness, all of them hungry for the blood of the dragon. Whether it is for it to flow through their descendants' veins, or for it to be spilled across the steps of the Iron Throne. They would be satisfied with either."
She nodded. "What must I do, Father?"
Viserys smiled. "You know… You have always behaved like Visenya; the resemblance is uncanny."
Rhaenyra looked down, a sad expression on her face. "I told my mother that if she were to conceive a daughter, my sister's name would have been Visenya."
He pulled her closer, clenching her face against his stomach. "I know… Your mother told me. But the reason I say that is this," he showed her Dark Sister. "I think it is time to bring back old traditions. I think it is time this blade rests once more in a Targaryen woman's hands. In your hands."
Rhaenyra blinked in surprise. "Do you mean it?" She asked excitedly.
He smiled as he saw his daughter's enthusiasm. "I mean it."
By now, she was practically jumping in place from sheer joy. "And can I have sword lessons?" Her eyes practically twinkled.
Viserys snickered. "It would be a shame for such a fine blade to be wasted on the hands of an unskilled fighter. So, the answer is yes, Daughter. You can have sword lessons." But before she could get any happier, he continued to speak. "Yet you will continue your lessons on how to be a proper lady. If I hear you are failing to show results in those, I will forbid you to practice with the sword until you do. And lastly, while Visenya was a remarkable warrior, I want to see the Rhaenys in you. I will have you study strategy and politics."
Rhaenyra tilted her head. "Why? I won't be your heir, what good will that do me?"
"While you won't be my heir, you may still support your brother. And who knows… Maybe Westeros will have a female Hand by the end of it." He shook his head and smiled.
Viserys pressed the sword against his daughter's torso, making her carry it.
She nodded in response; her eyes were happy, and they threatened to spill tears. "I will make you proud, Father. I promise."
With a smile, Viserys spoke. "You already do."
At that moment, a Kingsguard entered the chamber. His heavy armor drummed against the floor with every step.
Viserys turned towards the White Cloak, his expression twisting into fury. "I believe I have told you that I did not wish the conversation with my daughter to be interrupted," he exclaimed.
The man simply bowed. "I apologize, My King, but there is a dragonkeeper who insists on meeting you. He says it is urgent."
Viserys narrowed his eyes. "If I find that the news he brings me is unimportant, you will be punished. I hope you know that."
The Kingsguard nodded, cold sweat dripping from his back.
The King waved his hand dismissively. "Bring him in."