- The next day -
Viserys had been restless since he woke up, after having experienced a disturbing dream that foretold danger to the realm and his house. As he was preparing to calm his mind and try to forget the dream, the door of his bedchamber sounded.
*Knock* *knock*
"Come," Viserys sighed and called out.
His Hand, Otto Hightower, entered.
"What is it?" he asked, looking at him.
"I apologize for the early hour, Your Grace. I have... discomforting news. I thought it best shared discreetly before the council convenes."
Viserys sighed. "The Sea Snake."
"I'm afraid it concerns the Princess, my King."
"Has she been harmed?" Viserys asked worriedly.
"It is no easy thing to tell a father of his daughter's exploits. I had considered saying nothing, but..."
"What has she done?"
Otto spoke while avoiding his eyes. "The Princess was spied last evening... beyond the walls of the Keep... in a pleasure house."
"What of it?" he asked neutrally.
"She was carrying on with her uncle. They were engaged in behaviors unbecoming of a maiden... of a Princess." Otto looked into his eyes as he said every word to show his seriousness.
"What behaviors?" Viserys closed his eyes, his voice rough.
"Must I say it, Your Grace?" Otto whispered.
Viserys exhaled sharply. His body began to react to the news, even more so after the dream he had dreaded the night before. It seemed his fears were becoming reality and were not just a dream. "You enter my bedchamber, accusing my daughter of something. Now speak it... plainly."
Otto looked at him, then down at the floor. "Daemon and Rhaenyra were seen together... in the bowels of a pleasure den."
Viserys gestured with his hand for him to continue, as Otto hesitated.
"Coupling," Otto said seriously.
Viserys chuckled at that. But inside, fear gripped him. "This is a lie."
"You have been lied to," Viserys tried to deny the situation, struggling, not wanting it to be true.
"I only wish that were true, Your Grace."
"Who is responsible for this gossip? Have this rumormonger brought before me at once, and I will take their eyes."
"As your Hand, I must maintain trusted sources of information. And this one, as yet, has never led me astray. Several of the servants have now admitted to seeing her, the Princess... creeping through the gates from King's Landing, disguised as a page during the hour of the owl."
Viserys glared at him. "Are you so sick with ambition that you would have my daughter stalked? Spied upon? Awaiting your best chance to destroy her reputation?"
"I have no such intent, Your Grace," Otto tried to appear neutral, revealing nothing on his face.
"You think yourself a cunning man. Your designs are obvious."
"Do you wish to have your blood on the Iron Throne so badly that you are willing to destroy mine own?"
"Just get out. Leave me... at once."
Otto, knowing it was useless to say anything more at this point, bowed to him. "Your Grace."
After watching him leave, Viserys turned and saw Alicent looking at him, her face a mix of worry and uncertainty. He didn't say anything to her—just gave her a look before sitting exhausted on his bed. "This can't be true," he whispered to no one.
-----------------------
Rhaenyra was tending her hair after waking up before a big mirror as the door to her bedchamber sounded.
*tuck* *tuck*
Rhaenyra paused for a second as she yelled. "I'm dressed, Annora. Come."
Instead of Annora, it was Criston Cole. "Princess."
"What is it, Criston?" She asked nonchalantly as she continued taking care of her hair.
"Princess, I-I have a message from the Queen."
....
After a while, Rhaenyra walked into the private interior gardens of the Red Keep, where the weirwood tree stood. "What happened last night?" Alicent asked quickly, anxiously, as soon as she was beside her.
"What do you mean?" Rhaenyra asked, doubt creeping into her voice.
"My father has made some worrying allegations about you."
"Were you with your uncle?"
Rhaenyra looked at her for a few seconds before turning her gaze away. A turmoil churned inside her, but she tried to hide it. "Oh, I..." She chuckled. "I haven't seen him in years. He took me into the city for some fun."
"Tell me the whole of it, Rhaenyra," Alicent pressed.
"Your father accused me of something. That I drank wine? Left the castle after dark?" Rhaenyra smiled.
Alicent lashed out at her. "That you fucked Daemon in a pleasure house."
"This is a vile accusation."
"Is it? You Targaryens do have queer customs. And Daemon certainly knows no limits."
Rhaenyra sighed as she looked at Alicent, her voice neutral, a small smile playing at the corner of her lips. "Alicent... what if it were like that, and what if it weren't?"
"Your father is looking for something to trouble me now?"
"You should know better, sister."
"To... start questioning my virtue now is an act of treason." Rhaenyra lifted her chin, her gaze unwavering.
Alicent looked at her and sighed. "Rhaenyra... He reported it to the King. I overheard."
Rhaenyra's lips pursed into a sneer. "Such a dutiful hand. What is he hoping for from this? The obvious, don't you think?"
Alicent moved closer. "I only want to help you, Rhaenyra. I don't wish for this to cause you trouble."
"My father was already informed, wasn't he? The trouble would come whether we want it or not, Your Grace."
Alicent exclaimed worriedly, "It was foolish of you to place yourself in a position where your virtue could even come into question. The King has strived to find you a good match, and so have I."
"If that lord were to think that you had been... sullied... it would ruin everything."
"I know... Your Grace..."
-----------------------
Guards stormed Daemon's place of rest, dragging him forcefully from what was his bed during the rest of the night. "The King demands an audience, my Prince," they growled.
"Take your fucking hands off me!" Daemon snarled as he was suddenly woken up, struggling uselessly.
They hauled him to the throne room, where Viserys paced beneath the Iron Throne, seething. The Kingsguard dropped Daemon to the floor. He groaned, too weak to rise, and lay panting.
Viserys glared at his brother. "My daughter."
"Mhm," Daemon grunted, barely glancing up.
"Won't you even deny it?" Viserys demanded, circling him.
"I'd need to know the charge before I attempt to discredit it," Daemon replied, feigning ignorance.
"You defiled her!" Viserys roared, kicking him.
"Uuuuh—!" Daemon gasped, curling onto his back.
"Still, you say nothing?"
"Oh, what does it matter, brother?" Daemon rasped, recovering. "When we were Rhaenyra's age, we fucked our way through most of the brothels on the Street of Silk."
"We were young men!" Viserys spat. "She is just a girl—your niece!"
"Rhaenyra's a woman grown," Daemon dismissed. "Better her first time be with me than some whore."
"You fucking—!" Viserys lunged, gripping his collar. "You've ruined her! What lord will wed her now?"
"Who gives a fuck what some lord thinks?" Daemon shot back. "You are the dragon. Your word is law."
Viserys's face twisted. "I've spent a lifetime defending you. But your heart is blacker than I knew. I should disinherit her—as I did you—and be done with it."
"Wed her to me," Daemon suggested, smirking. "You said I could have anything when I gave up my crown."
"I want Rhaenyra. I'll take her as she is—wed her in the tradition of our house."
Viserys scoffed. "You're already wed."
"That didn't stop Aegon the Conqueror from taking a second wife," Daemon retorted.
Viserys's patience snapped. He drew his dagger, pressing it to Daemon's throat. "You're no conqueror. You're a plague... sent to destroy me."
"Give me Rhaenyra as my wife, and we'll restore the House of the Dragon to its proper glory," Daemon insisted, unfazed.
Viserys's eyes sharpened. "Of course." His voice dripped with realization. "It's not my daughter you lust for, is it? It's my throne."
Daemon stayed silent.
Viserys exhaled, sheathing the dagger. "Go back to the Vale, Daemon. To your lawful wife. Restore whatever scrap of honor you have left—or don't. It no longer matters to me. Just get out of my sight."
The finality in his voice left no room for argument.
"As you wish, brother."