Chapter 12 : The Hand of the King
For fourteen years, Otto Hightower had walked alongside the corridors of the Red Keep with pride, wearing his pin as a symbol of greatness and success, the greatest lords in the Seven Kingdoms had bowed to him, had called him 'Lord' and treated him with respect. To Otto, who was but a second son who would inherit nothing, this pin had represented the power that he had accumulated for himself, the success of his mind over greatness of the names of his rivals. On this day, his last walk alongside the corridors of the Red Keep was a walk of shame and disgrace. All the the castle's residents had noticed the missing pin on his chest, and many did not even bother to hide their chuckles and mocking smiles. They rejoiced in Otto's misfortune as the former hand of the King was walking one last time towards his office in order to collect his life's work. The Lords called him 'Ser Otto' as he passed, the last title he could carry despite the fact he had not wielded a sword for almost fifteen years. Despite his disgrace, the former Hand of the King held himself with all the dignity that he had left. He had not lost the Game of Thrones, contrary to what everyone seemed to believe. His daughter was still Queen, his grandchildren still princes and princesses. Perhaps some time away from the capital could give him all the opportunities he needed to strengthen ties with great houses. And to help the lords and knights to see reason regarding King Viserys' blind affection towards his daughter and his guilt towards his late wife.
Yes, Otto had not lost, he had simply suffered a setback, he would come back and the laughters would disappear like a dust bunny.
Once he arrived at his solar's door, he pulled out the key as the Hightower guards nodded to greet him, and pushed the door once it had been unlocked.
He almost dropped the key when he discovered the intruder who was casually sitting in his chair with his feet on his desk, reading one of his account book.
Arthur Stark looked up from his reading as he rose an eyebrow to make his annoyance known, his direwolf, who had been laying lazily on the ground, immediately stood up at the reachman's presence.
"Shadow, down." Arthur commanded, and the direwolf resumed his nap.
Otto winced in displeasure and anger, he might have been stripped of his title, but he would not allow a Northern savage to intimidate him.
"May I ask what you are doing in my solar, Arthur Stark?"
Arthur smirked as he slightly lowered his book to reveal the pin on his chest to the Queen's father.
"It is my solar, Ser." He replied calmly. "It is I who must ask you what you are doing here."
For a brief moment, Otto lost his wits for he felt like he had been slapped. Viserys had chosen this barbarian child to replace him? Was he so desperate to get his daughter's forgiveness that he was willing to risk the future of the realm?
"I see." He struggled to remain impassive despite the violent emotions that made his blood boil. "I wish you good fortune."
"Thank you Ser, but you have not answered my question."
"I came to collect my belongings, I am to leave for Oldtown by midday."
"And what belongings are we talking about exactly?"
"The book you're reading would be a good start."
Arthur chuckled at Otto's audacity.
"Your records are mine to study." He declared, his voice uncompromising. "I will need them in order to understand the actual state of the Seven Kingdoms and fulfill my task as well as I can. Nothing you have written here belongs to you, it belongs to the Realm, and as its most faithful servant, I can't do without the work of my predecessor in case he made a mistake, I'm sure you understand."
Otto did, but he remained furious nonetheless.
"As a matter of fact, I'm afraid I cannot allow you to take anything in this room that has not already been sent to your carriage. Everything in my solar belongs to me, all possessions of House Hightower are long gone from this room."
This time, Otto was unable to hide his feelings, his anger appeared on his face but Arthur was not impressed. He got up from his desk and went to stand in front of the former Hand.
"I'm afraid I have to ask you to return the key to this room," he said as he held out his hand.
Otto complied, he knew he was defeated, for now.
Arthur put the key in his pocket, and glared at his visitor.
"Now for our more personal matters."
Otto Hightower was taller than Arthur Stark, but he was in his forties and had not partake in any physical activity for almost fifteen years. When the Northerner grabbed him by his throat, there was little he could do but yelp under the crushing strength of his successor.
"I know how badly you want to see your blood on the Iron Throne, so I am going to make one thing perfectly clear, you southern prick." He growled as his eyes turned yellow. "If you lay a finger on Rhaenyra, if you try to undermine her or influence Aegon into stealing the Throne from her, if you ever try to hurt the North like you did by delaying the negotiations for the glass garden that was promised, I will rip you fucking head off and feed your body to the crows. Do you understand me?"
Unable to breath, Otto desperately tried to free himself from the Stark's grasp. But Arthur slammed him against a shelf, knocking over several books.
"Do you understand me? Blink once to say yes."
The door opened before the reachman had complied, and a new unexpected visitor entered the Hand of the King's solar.
Of all the things Daemon Targaryen had expected entering this room, seeing Otto being strangled by Arthur Stark had not been one of those. He actually chuckled in amusement.
"Don't stop on my account." He said as he waved his hand.
The Northerner eyed him suspiciously, and came back to Otto whose lips were starting to turn blue.
"Did you understand me?"
Hightower finally blinked and Stark let him go, the Queen's father coughed violently as he tried to regain his breath, Daemon chuckled once again at his rival's suffering.
"You may leave now, Ser Otto," The Northerner said as he wiped his hands against one another, "I wish you safe travels."
Otto Hightower set fire to his successor with a murderous gaze, but the latter did not care. Humiliated and bruised, he left his former solar under the delighted gaze of Daemon Targaryen. Once the door was closed, the Rogue Prince turned his gaze towards the Stark.
"Perhaps it would be a waste to kill you right away." He said as Shadow rose to tower him with a murderous glare.
"Sit, and calm down." Arthur commanded, and his wolf obeyed despite his apparent dislike of the Targaryen man.
The Northerner spoke again:
"Is that why you came in my solar? To murder me?"
"I seriously considered it." Daemon admitted. "I have numerous reasons to want you dead, the first being the punch you gave me."
The Rogue Prince went to stand right in front of the Hand of the King, his broken nose had been fixed, but it was still bruised.
"So how are we going to settle this, Stark?"
Arthur smirked, his arms were crossed.
"I will give you a free punch." He said as he pointed at his face with his thumb. "Just one."
And Daemon punched him, without warning, for he had been dying to do this since Arthur had punched him in his cell.
The Stark had not expected the Rogue Prince to be able to punch that hard, but despite his dizzy state, he managed to catch the other fist that had been going toward his face.
"Just one." He reminded Daemon with a stern voice as he blinked to regain his vision. Rhaenyra's uncle looked displeased but did not insist.
The Northerner was actually more angry at himself for not being prepared to receive the blow, Daemon had almost knocked him out, and would have, had the Stark not being used to getting hit on the head.
"Do you know how long I have coveted this pin, Stark?" The Rogue Prince asked as he eyed the Northerner's chest with envy.
"Since your brother was crowned, if I were to guess."
Daemon nodded, his glare intensified.
"For fifteen years I had to look at that leech Otto sucking out my brother's blood and draining as much power from my House as he could. And now that Viserys has finally opened his eyes, here you are. Rhaenyra's loyal dog, who cannot satisfy himself with a bone."
Arthur frowned.
"I was given this pin to help Rhaenyra. Something you've never done, have you?"
Daemon gritted his teeth and rubbed Darksister's pommel, Shadow immediately got up and started to growl.
"Do you think me blind, Stark? I see how you look at her, I know what you want. You're just like all the others, you want to mix your disgusting blood with ours. I will not allow it, mark my words, Stark, you will never marry her."
"Neither will you." Arthur hissed between his teeth.
The two men eyed each other for a moment, before Daemon turned his eels and went to the door, he stoped, however, and a smile graced his lips.
"Next time you and I meet, I'll have to introduce your wolf to Caraxes."
Arthur did not let that threat affect him.
"I hope your dragon will not be blind by the time it happens."
Daemon's smirk instantly turned into a furious grimace.
"What the hell do you mean by that?"
"Eyes are fragile is all I mean, my Prince. I hope your banishment will be as pleasant to you as the previous one. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a small council meeting to attend."
(-)(-)(-)
Despite the fact that she was still very angry at her father for putting Arthur on trial, Rhaenyra had accepted the King's invitation to join the Small Council, not as a cupbearer, but as an adviser. She really did not want to be here, she would have rather spend some time with her adviser, to make sure he was okay and to… well discuss what they had told each other before his arrest. But the Princess knew her northerner would chastise her for not taking this opportunity to learn about what was going on in the Realm. So here she was, sitting at the Small Council, waiting for the Hand of the King to arrive. Which was very unusual, Otto Hightower had never been late in fourteen years of service.
"Your Grace," Lord Beesburry spoke, "Perhaps we should start without…"
Arthur Stark opened the door before he could finish his sentence, he was holding a large book and his face was bruised in several places.
"My apologies for my tardiness my lords, I had a setback."
King Viserys frowned when he saw his new Hand's face, Rhaenyra and the other lords were too stunned to say anything.
"What happened to your face, Lord Arthur?"
"Your brother and I had a little squabble, your Grace." The Northerner answered with a smile as he took his sit and put his book down. "But the matter is closed now, I assure you."
Daemon had not tolerated that Arthur had threatened his dragon, and the two men had ended up fighting each other with theirs fists. In the end, and after many punchs and kicks, Daemon had realized that he could not defeat Arthur Stark in a fist fight. And had left the solar with a blackeye and a cracked rib. The Northerner had come to the Small Council chamber with a split lip, a black eye, and a bruised jaw, but that had not prevented him from smiling or being in a good mood.
Viserys sighed in dismay, he was furious at Daemon once again, but secretly glad that the matter had been settled between these two.
He motioned for Arthur to keep talking, and the Northerner addressed the whole council:
"My lords, before we start I must say that it is truly an honor to have been chosen by the King to work with you for the prosperity of the Realm. I know recent events might leave a dubious image of my persona, yet I hope we'll be able to work together efficiently for me to earn your trust."
Lord Beesburry and the Maester bowed their heads slightly, as did Lord Lannister, though reluctantly. Lord Lyonel Strong remained impassive for a time but he thanked the Northerner for his words with a single nod.
Rhaenyra was still flabbergasted by Arthur and his new pin, she looked at her father hoping to gain clarity regarding this situation, the King simply showed an apologetic face and went back to his new Hand to give him the floor with a nod.
Arthur opened the massive book he had brought and pulled five sheets of paper that he passed to the other members of the council.
"Unfortunately, I must start this meeting by informing you all that the situation in the Stepstones is getting tense. Since Prince Daemon and the Sea Snake abandoned it, the Triarchy hired pirates to try to retake it, fortunately, they were repelled by Lord Manderly. The Northerners are currently holding the Stepstones at Steelwater, blocking the Tyroshi fleet and preventing reinforcement from being sent. However, Lord Manderly cannot hold this island forever, Myr and Lys have suffered great losses after Prince Daemon's victory, but they will regroup in a few months if we don't act fast we'll lose our grip on this damn region. We need reinforcement to be sent, the plan that was decided in this very chamber has not been put in place. Now, I do not care why it hasn't, we need to act now, or Prince Daemon's victory will be meaningless. Lord Lannister, I recall you wanted to send troops to guard the Stepstones, will you?"
Lord Tyland shifted uncomfortably on his chair, the fact that Arthur Stark was now Hand of the King troubled him greatly. Ser Otto had informed him that the Lannister and Redwyne fleets would not be necessary to guard the Stepstones since he had expected Lord Corlys to do it for them, and the Sea Snake was in no position to tax anyone, especially since he had crowned Daemon, King of the Stepstones. But with both of them gone, the situation had changed, and the Master of Ships could not allow the Stark boy nor anyone else to profit from the taxes that such a guarded naval route would generate.
"I will send a raven as soon as I can, Lord Hand. I will try to convince my brother to spare five hundred men."
Arthur nodded.
"That is good, but we need more than soldiers, we need builders and farmers. Princess Rhaenyra had proposed to employ the Redwyne fleet, unfortunately, since we've received no response, we can only assume that they are not interested in lending their fleet to guard the Stepstones. So we must find more men elsewhere."
Lord Lyonel Strong knew why the Redwyne fleet had not responded, a raven had simply never been sent to them. But he chose to remain silent, they needed to move forward, not dwell on the past.
"Guarding the Stepstones will be a difficult task." The Lord of Harrenhall warned. "Knights would not do well at Sea, we need sailors, and good ones. Perhaps Lord Grafton could spare a few ships and men? Gulltown is, after all, the major port city of the Vale of Arryn. Secured Stepstones would bring fortune to his house, he would welcome a tax discharge on foreign goods."
Everyone nodded at the Master of Laws' proposal, except Rhaenyra, who was thinking as hard as she could in order to have something to offer to this Council.
"Where would we find farmers to cultivate the lands of Steelwater?" She finally spoke, drawing all the gazes. "We can't reasonably send good or bad farmers to the Stepstones. We need the good ones, and the bad ones could very well start a mutiny."
Arthur, Tyland Lannister and Lord Beesburry chuckled, they all agreed with the Princess' assessment.
"What do you propose?" Viserys asked.
"We could make recruitment announcements, from what I have heard, many farmers often make too many sons in order to help them in their work as they grow older. But only the elder inherits the land. I am sure plenty of second or third farmer's sons would be delighted at the opportunity to acquire their own land. We might need some experimented farmers to teach the young ones, but all in all, the labour would be cheap and effective."
To say that the Small Council was stunned by the Princess' proposition would have been an understatement. None of them expected her, of all people, to know anything about the farmers, Arthur smiled at her.
"It might take a bit of time." He said. "But in order to populate a new land it is to be expected, we'll have to send supply ships until the islands are properly manned and autonomous anyway. Those announcement will have to be made during market times in the biggest cities of each kingdom. But only once in each, we don't want the islands to end up being overpopulated. We'll also have to arrange for a few ships to be ready to sail a week at the most after the announcements."
"It is quite the task." Ser Lyonel nodded. "But a necessary step to secure these islands for good."
"I think we are all forgetting something." Lord Beesburry interjected. "What's stopping the Triarchy from attacking the Stepstones despite our garrison?"
Rhaenyra frowned, Arthur had presented them a solution weeks ago with the potential gift of a glass garden from Myr to anger Tyrosh and Lys. The fact that they had not even talked about it or about the reason why it had been delayed was eloquent regarding their interest.
"You are right Lord Beesburry, we need to sue for peace." Arthur nodded as he turned to address the King. "Your Grace, perhaps we should invite a representative of Myr at the Capital in order to discuss the terms of a peace treaty."
Everyone present frowned at the Hand of the King.
"Just a representative of Myr?" Lord Tyland inquired.
"You need to remember that officially, the war was never about the Triarchy. Drahar was a Myrish Prince admiral that had turned pirate, the Stepstones belong to Westeros by right of conquest. Tyrosh is under a blockade by the Manderlys, and is currently waiting for reinforcement from the other two cities. Lys will do nothing without Myr's approval given their short number. More importantly, Myr needs to compensate the Seven Kingdoms for the actions of Drahar. If Myr is convinced that prolonging the War is not in their interests, they will stop fighting, Lys will follow, though reluctantly, and Tyrosh will have no choice but to pay the tax to recover from this war. Prince Daemon's campaign was against pirates, the pirates are now dead. Should the Triarchy attack Steelwater again, they would declare war upon the Seven Kingdoms. That is a fact that they must know as soon as possible."
Viserys was not the only one who fidgeted on his chair, the small council did not long for war.
"My Lords, I understand why you would be reluctant to go to war, but we cannot allow foreigners to attack the Realm with impunity, no matter how small the village they may target is. Enough westerosis have been taken and enslaved by those pirates, we cannot guarantee the safety of the Realm by doing nothing, it is simply not possible."
The Lords turned their heads towards Viserys, expecting his answer. Since he had been crowned King of the Seven Kingdoms, Baelon the Brave's first son had always been reluctant to start any sort of conflicts. He never had been a great warrior, nor had he been a military strategist. Otto had always assured him that the diplomatic way was always possible and Viserys had always been eager to comply. Now though, he was not so sure anymore. But he was moving in unknown waters and as such, he was unable to know which decision was the best. In the end, he chose to follow his new Hand, he had chosen him because he was trustworthy, perhaps his new methods would bring more stability to his rule. He had warned him, after all, of Daemon's essential military prowess, Viserys needed to secure some strength as well.
"Very well," He reluctantly acknowledged, earning many disbelieved gazes from his council. "We will keep the threat of a war over the heads of the magisters. Grand Maester? Send a messenger to Myr to invite a representative to King's Landing in order to discuss the pacification of the Stepstones."
"It will be done, Your Grace. Will you receive him in person?"
Viserys fidgeted on his chair, clearly unsure if he was able to threaten a man with an all-out war, him who could have a hard time standing a conflict.
"I will receive him." Rhaenyra declared with confidence. "Grand Maester, you may invite him in my name."
The Lords exchanged worried glances.
"You may add mine," Arthur said with a confident smille. "I'll be here to support the Princess and to discuss the organisation of the creation of a new glass garden in the North."
Rhaenyra thanked him with a nod and a smile of her own, Runciter asked the King for confirmation with a glance.
Viserys simply waved his hand, Rhaenyra was his heir, one day she would rule, perhaps this experience would be enriching, and she would have her adviser with her.
"Very well." The Grand Maester said, closing the matter.
"Your Grace." Lord Lyonel spoke. "Reports from Driftmark indicate that the Sea Snake is gravelly angered by the holding of the Stepstones by the Manderly fleet."
Everyone frowned at this piece of information.
"The Sea Snake crowned Prince Daemon King of the Stepstones, Prince Daemon relinquished his crown in favor of the King. What is he complaining about exactly, Lord Lyonel?" Arthur asked, annoyed.
Lord Strong remained calm and stoic.
"Apparently, the Sea Snake feels that the Stepstones should have been his to guard."
"Then why did he sail home after his victory?" Viserys asked, confused.
"I do not know, Your Grace, I only know that he is displeased."
"The only thing he has to be displeased about is his own negligence." Lord Tyland growled, like the others he was tired of Lord Corlys' antics.
"My opinion is that the Sea Snake made a mistake in crowning Prince Daemon." Arthur said. "He probably did not expect our dear prince to relinquish his crown so quickly. Perhaps he had intended, once his army had rested, to take control of this naval route we are trying to create."
"I agree with the Lord Hand, Your Grace." Lord Lyonel nodded. "Lord Corlys' actions are clearly rebukes for passing over Lady Laena for Queen Alicent."
Everyone rolled their eyes at that, including Rhaenyra.
"Years have passed since the business with his daughter." Viserys growled "Certainly, he cannot still be wroth?"
"The Sea Snake is an over-proud man, to be sure, Your Grace. That pride has been injured. Perhaps we can salve the wound?"
"Why should we do anything to salve the wound?" Rhaenyra asked. "The Sea Snake is acting like a child, does he expect us to give in to his whims simply because my father refused to marry a twelve year old girl?"
If anyone shared her feelings, no one expressed it.
"I fear Lord Corlys' pride is the least of our worries, Princess." Lord Lyonel said, his tone grave.
"I have heard that Lord Corlys has engaged in negotiations with the Sea lord of Braavos. He plans to wed his daughter Laena to the Sealord's son."
A heavy silence followed that piece of news, until it was broken by Arthur's laugh.
"Surely the Sea Snake cannot be that naive."
"What do you mean, Lord Hand?" Lord Beesburry asked.
"The position is not hereditary; one of Braavos citizens is chosen to be Sealord by the city's magisters and keyholders through a convoluted and arcane process. Once chosen, the Sealord serves Braavos for life. Yes, you've heard me right, he serves, he does not rule. I've heard the son of the actual Sealord is a fool and a drunk. Lord Corlys would blunder heavily if he were to marry his daughter to such a man. He has nothing to gain but fleeting prestige from such an union, and his daughter would be quite unhappy with his decision."
Everyone in the room exchanged surprised looks, perhaps some of them expected someone to contradict the new Hand, but no one spoke in the end.
"You mean to tell us," Lord Tyland spoke slowly, "That the Sea Snake is so blinded by pride that he's about to commit a terrible blunder?"
Arthur shrugged.
"It appears so, in any case, this piece of news is not alarming at all. If Lord Corlys wishes to act like a fool because his pride has been injured, I say let him make a fool of himself. Perhaps then he will learn a bit of humility, and will stop trying to constantly prove that he's not to be rejected no matter his demands."
The other members nodded vigorously, some even chuckled at the Sea Snake's misfortune, all except Rhaenyra.
"No." She declared with an uncompromising tone. "Laena has always been a dear friend of mine, I refuse to let her marry a drunken fool because of her father's pride."
Everyone except Arthur -who merely rose an eyebrow- shifted uncomfortably on their chairs.
"What would you have us do, Princess? The Sea Snake would not listen to any of us. If anything, a warning coming from this council might push him into having his daughter married by the morrow."
"I'll right a letter to the Princess Rhaenys personally," Rhaenyra sternly declared. "I trust her to find the right words to convince her husband of his foolishness."
Arthur shrugged at her words.
"Proceed as you please, Princess, this is no longer the matter of the Small Council."
Rhaenyra nodded, and they went on to the next order of business.
(-)(-)(-)
A few hours later, the Small council's session came to an end, and surprisingly satisfied lords exited the chamber. Arthur was busy collecting the notes he had brought with him when he realized that he was alone with the King and his daughter. Finding the situation awkward, he gave them a simple nod before following the other lords. Now Rhaenyra was alone with her father, something she'd have rather avoided.
"Why did you make Arthur your hand?" She asked, breaking the silence. "I am not saying he is not competent, I am just saying that the fact that he is young and northerner is not going to play in your favor."
Viserys sighed, and poured himself a cup of wine.
"Otto's origins and age played in my favor." He acknowledged as he sipped on the beverage. "But Arthur's new position will play in yours."
Rhaenyra did not answer, she simply watched as her father downed his cup in order to pour himself another.
"I am sorry for what I said." She said, genuinely.
Viserys did not answer.
"But I am not ready to forgive you."
"I know."
Viserys' face was apologetic, he sighed deeply.
"You should go to him, I am sure you two have a lot to say to one another."
Rhaenyra stared blankly at her father, she made to move but he spoke again:
"You should not push him."
"What do you mean?"
"What I mean is that I know what you feel for him, and I know what he feels for you."
Rhaenyra petrified herself on her spot, her eyes widened and she clenched her jaw.
"I cannot tell you what to feel, Rhaenyra." Viserys said. "I can only advise you to be careful with your feelings."
"Otherwise you'll send him back to his cell?" She snarked.
The King shook his head.
"No, otherwise you might lose him."
The Realm's Delight did not answer, she simply took her leave without a look back. Viserys downed his cup and refilled it immediately.
(-)(-)(-)
If it was improper for a highborn woman to visit a man in his personal chambers, it was not improper for the Princess to visit the Hand of the King in his solar. And that was officially what she was doing when she knocked on his door, and entered after he had allowed her to do so.
Rhaenyra almost laughed when she saw her adviser sitting in a velvet armchair with his boots on a varnished oak desk. Both had clearly been made in the Reach, and the Princess could only guess who had purchased those.
Arthur closed his book and got up to bow to her.
"Princess."
She smiled.
"You don't have to be so formal, Lord Hand."
"I am afraid, I do."
She frowned slightly, and turned her head to realize that Ser Criston had followed her inside the room. Her frown deepened when she noticed his stoic face, he looked like he was suppressing his emotions.
"You may leave us, Ser Criston, I trust the Lord Hand with my life."
The Kingsguard bowed, and left without a word, his behavior troubled the Princess slightly. She had never seen him act like that, he was usually in a good mood.
Once they were alone, Arthur circled his desk to face her, he leaned against it with his arms closed and a smile on his face.
"I suppose I owe you an apology and many thanks." He said.
Rhaenyra smiled back and took a step closer to examine his face.
"We'll talk about that later, what happened between you and Daemon?"
She grabbed his chin to turn his head and examine his wounds, Arthur did not stop her.
"We had plenty of matters to settle together. He came to visit me when I was in my cell and I broke his nose."
Rhaenyra couldn't believe her ears.
"You did what? Why?"
"Two reasons, first I needed him angry enough to declare himself champion of the Crown should I demand for a trial by combat."
Rhaenyra resisted the urge to slap him.
"Are you mad? He would have killed you!"
"But I would have had more chances at survival than if your father had called for a trial by the Seven. I would have never joined the Night's watch for a false crime."
Now Rhaenyra was even more glad for Alicent's advice, this whole farce could have ended up in catastrophe.
"And what was the other reason?"
"I thought he deserved a punishment after the way he tricked you."
The Princess blushed, a gentle smile appeared on her face.
"Thank you."
"You're welcome. Now I believe we've stall long enough, we should talk about what happened that night."
"Then I'll speak." Rhaenyra declared with a firm tone, which surprised the Northerner.
She took a deep breath and spoke again.
"You… you're the only person I trust, you're my only friend and… and I will not lie; I want you."
Arthur did not react, she hid her disappointment and she went on.
"I will resume my courtship as soon as possible… I just… I just want you by my side. For as long as you can be."
"Rhaenyra…"
"I will marry for duty." She declared. "I will be Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, and I will want you as my Hand."
"Rhaen…"
"Let me talk, please." She took a deep breath. "I know there is something between us, you may deny it but I know it is here. I… I am not going to ask you… to renounce your duty to the North. I just want you to promise that you will remain by my side and serve me, in exchange for your services, I promise you that the North will thrive under my rule."
Arthur shook his head.
"You don't have to bargain with me, Rhaenyra."
"I do." She smiled sadly. "Because I cannot do this without you, I need you Arthur, and I fear I'm going to need you for… maybe for my whole life."
"You cannot be serious."
"I am." She stated firmly, then she hugged him.
Arthur did not reject her, instead he welcomed her with opened arms. Both the Princess and her adviser enjoyed each other's comfort and sighed deeply. This was the most they could do, no matter how much they desired each other, no matter how they felt about one another, they were not meant to be.
The truth was that Arthur knew he would not spend his entire life in King's Landing, especially after Rhaenyra's wedding. Things would be tedious with her husband, and he did not wish to spend the rest of his life solving the problems of southerners. But Rhaenyra… he hated the effect she had on him, he hated that he was ready to sacrifice a large part of his life for her. And yet… he could not find it in him to refuse her.