At night, in the corridors of the Red Keep, Aemond walked in front, with Aegon and Daeron following behind him.
Attendants carried two unhatched dragon eggs in their hands, walking carefully behind the princes.
Torchlight fell upon the shells, casting a strange sheen across them.
One gray, one white, lying quietly upon cushions of black velvet.
These two dragon eggs came from Dreamfyre in the Dragonpit—the gentle she-dragon of Princess Helaena.
Aemond had personally retrieved them. According to Targaryen tradition, he intended to present them to his newborn brother Jaehaerys and sister Ysera.
Aemond wore black and red armor, and as he walked, he still carried the sulfurous scent peculiar to the Dragonpit.
Guards stood along each stretch of corridor; sentries were posted at every turn.
Every face was drawn tight. Today the king had fallen unconscious, the Hand had been dismissed, and the queen kept vigil at the sickbed. For the moment, there was no one within the Red Keep able to take charge.
Aemond gestured to one side.
A guard stepped forward swiftly and bowed. "Your Highness."
Aemond did not slow his pace, nor did he turn his head. "Have Captain Lyes come to the Hand's chambers to see me."
"As you command."
The order was given cleanly, without the slightest hesitation.
An air of awkwardness hung in the Hand's chambers.
Otto Hightower was gathering the documents upon the table. His movements were slow; each scroll he rolled carefully before placing it into the open wooden chest.
His son, Gwayne Hightower, assisted him at his side.
The door was pushed open.
Aemond entered, with Aegon and Daeron behind him.
Otto lifted his head, and his hands stilled.
"This little play today," Aemond said, looking at Otto, "was poorly performed."
He walked to the table and cast a glance at the documents being sorted—accounts of the treasury, intelligence from the great houses.
Otto set down the papers in his hand and sighed.
"I did not expect… His Grace to endure to that extent. Nor did I expect him to wake."
Aemond smiled.
"This is something you ought not to have done without my knowledge."
"And when the moment came, a few words from His Grace—and you shrank back?"
Otto remained silent.
Aemond gave a mirthless laugh.
"And you allowed the Blacks to walk out of the Red Keep so easily?"
Otto remained silent for a long while.
In the chamber, only the soft crackle of the fire in the hearth could be heard.
"Then," Otto finally spoke, "what do you intend to do now?"
Aemond straightened, placed both hands upon the edge of the table, and leaned toward him.
"Daeron will return to Oldtown with you."
"And Grandfather, you…"
He fixed his gaze upon Otto's eyes.
"I want you to inform Lord Hightower to begin preparations at once. Immediately."
"Not the usual guards you keep in peacetime. Summon the bannermen. Begin raising a true army. The more, the better."
Otto's pupils contracted slightly.
"Aemond, do you know what you are saying? To raise an army without the king's leave…"
"To begin preparing for war now?"
"His Grace lies unconscious," Aemond cut him off. "We must be prepared at all times."
"Besides, if you begin preparing now and truly resolve upon it… twenty thousand? Thirty thousand?"
"With the strength of House Hightower, that can be achieved, can it not?"
Otto's expression changed.
Aemond continued.
"Tell Lord Hightower this: whether my brother Aegon can sit the Iron Throne depends upon whether House Hightower has the resolve."
At the side, Aegon blankly pointed to himself. "Me?"
Aemond did not look at him. He kept his eyes upon Otto.
Otto fell silent for a moment, then finally nodded.
"I will… advise the lord."
"Not advise." Aemond regarded Otto coldly.
"It must be done. If you require a reason, say it is my will. If that is not enough…"
He walked to Aegon and laid a hand upon his brother's shoulder. Aegon visibly flinched.
"Then say it is the will of the future king."
With words carried that far, there was no room left to turn back.
Otto looked at the unyielding Aemond and slowly inclined his head.
"I understand."
At that moment, there came a knock upon the door.
"Enter."
The door opened, and Ser Lyes, captain of the Red Keep's guards, stepped inside.
The broad-faced man wore a tense expression.
"Your Highness," he bowed, "you sent for me."
Aemond turned and studied him for several seconds.
"Captain Lyes," he said in a mild tone, "you have labored in service to the royal house these many years."
Lyes was taken aback, then straightened.
"To serve His Grace is my honor."
"Indeed, it is an honor." Aemond nodded. "And so the royal house does not mistreat its loyal servants."
"I shall arrange a reward of one thousand gold dragons for you. As a knight, you may purchase a fine estate in the Crownlands, and add some lands to it."
"You are no longer young. It is time you retired in peace."
The air in the chamber froze at once.
Lyes' face turned ashen. He knew he was being dismissed and spoke with difficulty.
"Your Highness… my loyalty is to His Grace! I obey the king's commands! In the throne room today, I merely—"
"You merely hesitated." Aemond cut him off without mercy.
Aemond stepped forward and stopped before Lyes. The two stood very close.
"I shall propose to His Grace that you retire."
"Now, withdraw."
Lyes opened his mouth, still wishing to say something.
But when he met Aemond's violet eyes—cold and deep, as though there were no room left for appeal—all his words stuck fast in his throat.
At last, he lowered his head, his shoulders slumping.
"As you command, Your Highness."
He turned and withdrew, his back slightly bent.
When the door closed, Otto let out a sigh.
"This is not wholly his fault. It was I—"
Aemond said coldly, "Loyalty that is not absolute is absolute disloyalty."
He then looked toward Gwayne Hightower.
"Uncle, will you serve as captain of the Red Keep's guards?"
Gwayne widened his eyes and looked to his father.
Otto gave him a slight nod.
"I…" Gwayne swallowed. "I am willing to serve the royal house."
"Good." Aemond patted his uncle's shoulder.
"I shall propose it to His Grace."
Aemond said no more and turned toward the door. At the threshold he paused, without looking back.
"Grandfather, the ship sails at dawn. You must leave King's Landing as soon as possible."
With that, he pushed the door open and departed.
Aegon and Daeron exchanged a glance and followed after him.
Only Otto and Gwayne remained in the chamber.
Gwayne looked at his father's weary face.
"Father…"
Otto did not answer. He went to the window and pushed it open, feeling the cool night wind, and murmured softly, "Now…"
"No one can restrain him any longer."
Otto closed his eyes and, with his back to Gwayne, spoke slowly.
"Gwayne, from this day forth, you are to obey Aemond's commands alone."
"As for others—including me—you need not heed them."
Hearing his father's instruction, Gwayne hesitated for a moment, then nodded.
He had already seen the shape of things. Even if Prince Aegon were to inherit the Iron Throne in the days to come, he would likely be overshadowed and held in check by Aemond's strength.
---
I will post some extra Chapters in Patreon, you can check it out. >> patreon.com/TitoVillar
---