Runestone, in the private quarters of Lady Rhea Royce.
While the first snow of winter gathers upon the Vale's high peaks, Rhea sat on her bed of oak and bronze, where her newborn son rests beside her.
And to disturb that peace, Lord Yorbert Royce of Runestone enters... grim-faced and weary.
"You should have sent for me sooner, Rhea. Word of your labor reached me only later from the whispers echoing through the halls of Runestone, and from a raven that arrived belatedly at the Eyrie." He said. "I could have been here, to support you in such times."
"But you know now, do you not? That I am delivered of a son." Looking at her little boy as she said and questioned. "And what of the matter of his heritage? It is what I truly need your support for."
Yorbert sighed and let out the grim news. "It is a bastard born out of your betrayal, he says. That Prince Daemon denied his own child."
Rhea hated bitterly. "Denied by a man who swore before gods and witnesses to be my husband. Daemon Targaryen is as mad and cruel as expected... to not even own the life he set quick within me. With what excuse? What lies did he say to make mine son a bastard and disgrace mine honor?!"
"As you know, he claims he has not left King's Landing these 11 moons." Yorbert reminded. "With his loyal men and the people of the capital as his witnesses."
"So, he claims that loudly." Rhea muttered in exhaustion. "I would not have any of his beguiled men say I speak false, yet I have none that can prove he was here. But he did come to me... one night, cloaked and unannounced, when the moon was thin, clouds heavy. Perhaps to hide his use of a dragon and plan this whole twisted deception."
The Lord of Runestone knew that story and believed her, he does. "Alas, the King and mayhaps the Queen lend some ear to his tongue even if he is akin to a black sheep to their dragon family."
"What a Conciliator, what a Good Queen." Rhea said with scornful mockery. "To wrong us like so. To wed me to a monster and fault their great-grandson as this."
Yorbert should have chastised her for maligning the realm's rulers, instead he appeased. "Time will tell your truth, Rhea. But I'm also afraid time may not have been kind to King Jaehaerys and Queen Alysanne. Their old age is clouding their judgment and recent tragedies have worsened it."
Gravely, he added. "So, at present, the boy cannot bear the name Targaryen, if the Prince disowns him and the royal family does not accept him."
Then and there, Rhea decided. "So let him bear mine. He is of my blood, Royce born, and no less for Daemon's shame."
"If it were so simple." Yorbert said grimly. "The laws of men and the tongues of fools will not grant him our bronze. If the Prince's seed he is not, the people of the Vale and the rest of Westeros will call him Stone, as they name all sons with such marital complications."
"Stone!" Rhea shouted with rising anger. "Shall my son, born in lawful wedlock, suckle that name? Shall Runestone's heir apparent be cast among the bastards of shepherds and camp-followers? Even if the other Houses say otherwise, why not legitimize him?! You are the Lord of the Royces, are you not?!"
"Be at ease, Rhea. Rage will not mend this." The Runestone Lord said. "The favor is against us. If the Targaryens are in the understanding that he is a bastard, then he must be a bastard for others. That is the weight of their decisions, backed by dragons. Calling your son a Royce, as right as it should be, will be seen as an affront and act of mutiny given that you are still the Prince's wife."
"Let the dragons choke upon their pride!" Rhea raged on. "I will not see my boy scorned while I draw breath."
"It would be to challenge the judgment of the Realm's rulers." Yorbert Royce reminded. "Think of the consequences and trouble that it will bring to our House."
Rhea defended that. "I would only speak the truth before the gods and all the realm. Let them hear that Daemon Targaryen bedded me, and from that night came this child. Let them see the boy when he grows. If his hair turns silver as moonlight, what then shall they say?"
"Time will tell your truth, as I said." Yorbert reasoned. "They will say the gods mock us. Yet I would counsel care, Rhea. The Targaryens guard their honor as they guard their dragons. To cross them is peril."
The new mother remained adamant. "Then let peril come. I am a Royce of Runestone. Our bronze does not bend, even when dragons burn."
Yorbert sighed once again. "Bronze bends Rhea, for dragonfire it will. So, we can only begrudgingly accept that the realm will call him Stone. But mind you that here, in these halls, he shall be yours and mine to shield... and he can be called whatever your name for him is."
"It is all that I, in mine weakness, can do for the both of you." He wearily added. Ashamed, as a descendant of the Bronze Kings of old, to have fallen this way.
To such a plight, Rhea could only understand, even if it pained her so.
And after a while of rumination and gazing at her newborn son... she said. "Then let him be Ronan Stone of Runestone until his truth burns bright enough to melt the bronze and shame the dragons. By then, he will become Ronan Royce while the Targaryens could only hope to claim him for their mistake."
Lord Royce breathed relief.
Placing a hand on her shoulder, he said to her that. "The gods bless you, Rhea. The fight you choose is not a small one."
"Nor is the love I bear my son." Rhea affirmed. "But I must say that for this grudge... I will remember."
"We remember, Rhea." Lord Royce echoed, in the motto of their House. "We Remember."