"Enough of this idle talk!"
The voice shattered King Viserys I's wandering thoughts as he sat upon the Iron Throne.
"The Sea Snake," Corlys Velaryon struck the stone floor lightly with his staff, the dull sound echoing through the hall. "Prince Aemond, you are attempting to twist truth into sophistry."
His grey-blue eyes were cold and sharp, like a serpent locking onto its prey.
"It is an undeniable fact that Rhaena and Baela were deprived of their chance, while your uncle and his daughters were given priority in attempting to claim their mother's dragon."
"It is a fact that Rhaena and Baela brought Jacaerys and the others to question the reasonableness of this."
"And it is also a fact that you took the initiative to insult them and provoke the conflict."
"Finally, when the situation had briefly calmed, it was you, Prince Aemond, who reignited the violence after hearing an insult directed at your mother."
Each fact fell like a cold iron nail, hammering Aemond firmly to the pillar of guilt.
Corlys showed no hesitation, pressing the blade deeper.
"He insulted my mother!" Aemond snapped, turning his head sharply. The suppressed fire in his violet eye nearly burst as he stared at Lucerys.
"As a son, could you remain calm if someone slandered your mother?"
Lucerys flinched under that gaze, yet still forced himself to reply, "Y-You were the one who first called us Strong bastards!"
The forbidden name was spoken aloud.
The word Strong pierced the stagnant air of the hall like poison.
Many nobles' expressions shifted instantly, whispers spreading once more. These were the most sensitive and dangerous rumors in the Seven Kingdoms.
"Jealousy. Resentment. Long-standing grievance, Prince Aemond."
"We have every reason to suspect that this was not impulse, but intent."
Corlys leaned forward slightly, his voice icy.
"For example, during the struggle, you seized the right moment to drive the dagger toward Lucerys, cleverly shifting the blame onto Jacaerys."
"To make it all appear as a tragic accident."
Aemond felt a chill crawl up his spine.
"Motive?" He suddenly laughed softly, shaking his head. His eye passed over Corlys, then Rhaenyra, then Daemon.
"You rule the Narrow Sea, Lord Velaryon. Do you truly believe such a thing would go unseen?"
He stepped forward, his voice rising.
"If I truly possessed the calculating heart you accuse me of, I would not be standing here now, being judged and condemned."
His gaze settled on Rhaenyra.
"And tell me—what benefit would there be in harming Jacaerys?"
"To let the Seven Kingdoms witness another Targaryen kinslaying?"
"To plunge our father, the King, into grief?"
"To tear House Hightower and House Velaryon apart and push the realm toward division?"
He drew a deep breath; the wound on his face reopened, blood seeping down his cheek.
"If I wished to contend for anything, I would earn it—forge alliances, prove my worth."
"Not brand myself with the crime of attempted murder."
"Not drag my mother and my entire family into an inescapable abyss."
"At the very least, I am not foolish enough to plan an accident so full of holes, harming others—and myself—even more."
When had this usually silent, scorned boy gained such sharp eloquence?
"A boy who can claim Vhagar at twelve is no fool," Daemon said suddenly, breaking the silence with a faint smirk.
He crossed his arms, tilting his head as he studied Aemond.
"You are ambitious, boy."
"You want to prove yourself. You want the world to see that you are more worthy of Vhagar than Rhaenyra's sons."
The unspoken words lingered heavily in the hall.
Rhaenyra's eyes sharpened as she looked at her half-brother with new seriousness.
For the first time, fear stirred in her heart.
"Enough!" King Viserys struck the arm of the throne, his crown slipping askew.
"I did not come here to hear you tear one another apart!"
His voice was hoarse and trembling.
"One of my grandsons lies wounded, his life uncertain!"
"My own son stands accused of plotting to maim his kin!"
He looked around the hall.
"This is my family. My blood. House Targaryen!"
He broke into violent coughing, nearly collapsing, and the Kingsguard rushed forward.
When he steadied himself, Viserys fixed his gaze on Aemond, his eyes filled with complexity.
"Aemond… you rode Vhagar."
"Without permission?"
"Yes," Aemond replied calmly.
"Why?" Viserys asked, exhaustion heavy in his voice. "Why now?"
Aemond lifted his head, his eye burning with conviction.
"Because the dragon chose me, Father."
His voice was not loud, yet it carried through the hall.
"In the storm, I went to her."
"She did not breathe fire. She did not roar in warning."
"She lowered her head."
"I mounted her, and she did not throw me off."
He spoke with near-fanatical certainty.
"A dragon recognizes only the blood of Valyria."
"Vhagar once belonged to Lady Laena Velaryon, but Lady Laena has returned to the Seven."
"And now, Vhagar has chosen me."
"She is my mother's dragon!"
Behind Daemon, Baela could no longer restrain herself.
"Your Grace!" she cried. "You promised that my sister and I would be given the first chance!"
"He stole her from us!"
"They are the living blood and fire of House Targaryen!"
Aemond pointed at Lucerys.
"And you!"
"You were not angry because an opportunity was taken from you."
"You were angry because you could not accept that the useless, lonely uncle you mocked all your life was chosen by Vhagar!"
Aemond stared at Lucerys, who stood frozen.
"Lucerys—when you drew the blade, did you consider that it could kill?"
"Did you ever think that I am your uncle? Your blood?"
Lord Corlys closed his eyes and sighed inwardly.
The hall fell silent.
"I spoke the words 'bastard,'" Aemond said hoarsely. "I admit it."
"But I apologized."
"Before the Seven and before the King—did I not apologize immediately?"
"Do you dare swear that I lie?"
At last, the children nodded weakly.
"I wanted to stop this foolish fight," Aemond said.
"You allowed it to spiral out of control."
"And from beginning to end, even at my angriest, I never intended to truly harm my kin."
"I never sought to take an eye. Or a life."
Lucerys' face was pale as parchment. He staggered back, unable to speak.
The hall was deathly still.
At last, Rhaenyra spoke softly.
"Enough…"
She opened her eyes and stepped forward.
"Father," she said, tears falling quietly, "I no longer care who began this."
She knelt.
"I ask for only one thing."
"Justice."