Nightfall.
The Red Keep, Queen's residence.
Alicent sat at the round table, staring straight ahead. Across from her was Otto Hightower, the Master of Civil Affairs. Plates of untouched food lay before them.
"Father, you have to help me," Alicent began, her voice laden with sorrow. "Prince Martell has asked for a princess in marriage, and I can't give Helaena away."
"Don't worry. Viserys hasn't agreed yet, the matter isn't settled," Otto replied calmly.
"But you know he's weighing the pros and cons," Alicent fretted. "Viserys will surely send Helaena to Dorne for the sake of peace."
"And what's wrong with that? Prince Qoren is wealthy and powerful. Helaena won't be mistreated," Otto said, his gaze unwavering.
Alicent, worried for her children, grew more agitated. "Father, Dorne is at odds with the kingdom. The people there are ruthless. I can't watch Helaena thrown into such a dangerous situation!"
Though Aegon was her primary concern, Helaena was her only daughter—her daughter who resembled her, who grew up mentally ill and subjected to gossip. The thought of such a young girl being sent to Dorne by marriage was unthinkable.
Otto frowned slightly, his tone bland, "Calm down, Alicent. Don't let panic cloud your judgment."
"How can I be calm when my daughter's fate is in his hands?" Alicent rose, her eyes reddening with emotion. "Ten years ago, Viserys would have married Rhaenyra to Dorne. Do you think he cares about Helaena?"
Otto was silent, knowing exactly what his daughter meant. There was a time when Rhaenyra's marriages were out of her hands. Before the First War for the Stepstones, Viserys had considered marrying Rhaenyra to Qoren to keep the peace with Dorne.
After a moment, Otto spoke, "You have more than one child. If Helaena can bring peace to the kingdom, she might secure the support of the Martells for you."
As a politician, Otto valued profit over affection. To him, trading a girl for the support of the Martells outweighed her personal value.
"Father, do you realize what you're saying?" Alicent's face was stunned, her eyes full of disbelief.
Otto sighed, "Alicent, you've always worried about your children's future. Helaena marrying the Prince of Dorne makes her the Dornish heiress, maximizing the return to our family."
"No! Don't even think about it!" Alicent raged, utterly disappointed in her indifferent father. "You said the same thing to me and sent me to Viserys's room. He doesn't love me. He only sees his late wife and her children. I'm just a tool for bearing children, an old mother running the Red Keep!"
Her eyes were red as she spoke. Her life had become unbearable. She didn't want her daughter to suffer the same fate—hated and disregarded.
Otto watched his daughter calmly, letting her vent. After a while, Alicent, gasping for breath, said dazedly, "If you won't help me, I'll find another way."
With that, she quickly left the room. Otto remained silent, lost in his thoughts.
...
Alicent climbed the stairs to a secluded loft.
Creak...
The door to the attic opened, revealing the room inside.
Larys Strong, smartly dressed, sat in one of the two solid wood chairs, scepter in hand. He looked at Alicent with a smile, clearly having waited for her for some time.
...
Grey Gallows Island, Central Tent.
Inside the tent, a group of high-ranking officials were engaged in a heated debate.
"We should defend the island to the death and focus on preventing a sneak attack from the Triarchy."
"Nonsense! How many men do we have? It's not enough to mount a proper defense. We should launch a night attack and take them by surprise."
The two men arguing were Spike Redwyne of the Arbor and Borros Baratheon of the Stormlands.
Borros, who had been driven from his home and joined the army after his father, Lord Boremund, disowned him, had brought 2,000 soldiers and 10 ships - a significant reinforcement for the king's army.
"Silence, my lords!" Robb Rivers, leader of the Second Sons, tried to intervene as the argument grew more heated.
"Silence, my ass. I'm in the middle of an important discussion, you bastard!" Borros snapped, his temper flaring.
Robb's face turned red and he fell silent, humiliated.
Rhaegar, sitting at the head of the table, glared at Borros and tapped the table. "Lord Borros, be quiet for a moment!"
"Lord, we are discussing the war situation. Not even the king can silence a battlefield commander," Borros replied scornfully.
Bang...
Rhaegar slammed the table down and stood up, shouting, "I said silence, Lord Borros!"
He glared at Borros with a fierce gaze, his body radiating a formidable presence. Years spent in the Cannibal's company had imbued him with an intimidating aura.
Borros glared back, ready to retort, but Rhaegar's intense gaze silenced him. The knot in his throat moved as he swallowed hard, finally grunting in reluctant compliance.
The others in the tent, who shared a general disdain for Borros, calmed down as well. They were relieved to see the prince put him in his place.
Rhaenys spoke up to break the tension, frowning. "Rhaegar, what do you propose?"
"Yes, when do your plans begin, Prince?" Bartimos Celtigar chimed in, shifting the focus back to strategy.
Rhaegar withdrew his gaze and returned to the sand table. "My lords, it is time for the plan to begin."
All eyes were on him, waiting for his explanation.
Rhaegar continued, "In about two days, the Triarchy will definitely make a big move. Our first task is to reorganize our military equipment and wait patiently for material support."
"Oh, who doesn't know that?" Borros sneered.
Rhaegar glanced at him without paying much attention. "I sent Cole to the Broken Arm to attract Dornish troops. Has he departed yet?"
Robb responded quickly, "He left this evening."
"Very well." Rhaegar said.
Borros interjected, "Prince, you said Cole was the bait. Now that he's gone, what should we do?"
"Get the army ready and stand by," Rhaegar said seriously.
Borros laughed disdainfully. "This is the same nonsense every day. If we want to defend Grey Gallows Island or launch a sneak attack on the Triarchy, what's the point of just reorganizing the army?"
"Lord Borros, watch your words. You are in the presence of the heir to the kingdom!" Robb was the first to stand up and rebuke him.
"Shut the fuck up, bastard!" Borros, enraged, opened his mouth to curse.
Robb wanted to argue, but Rhaegar held him down with one hand, stopping him.
"Prince?" Robb hesitated.
Rhaegar waved his hand and faced the thick-necked, red-faced Borros. "The Navy Commander and the Master of Ships are both gone. Who is in charge on the island?"
Borros glared and replied coldly, "In terms of status, naturally the Prince is the highest authority."
The most honorable person present was Princess Rhaenys, followed by Bartimos Celtigar, the Lord of Claw Isle. The rest, including Borros, were of second rank or knights.
Hearing Borros' answer, Rhaegar let out an "Oh" and tilted his head. "Since I am the highest authority, I said to be ready at all times. Do you wish to disobey me?"
As he spoke, his hand moved to Dragon Claw hilt at his waist.
"Of course not..." Borros started to argue, but Rhaenys cut him off.
"Shut up, Borros!" Rhaenys warned, her eyes fierce. "Remember your father's advice to choose your words carefully!"
Her mind was sharp and she caught Rhaegar's movement instantly. She knew Borros was being made an example of.
Borros simmered with fury, a knot of unspoken words tightening his throat. Rhaegar, his gaze as cold as a serpent's, met Borros's defiance. "Spit it out, then," Rhaegar's voice was a razor's edge, daring Borros to a challenge.
Borros' anger turned to fear, his throat tightening as he realized Rhaegar's intention while holding the hilt of his sword. A cold sweat broke out and his defiance faded.
"He's going to kill me!" Borros thought, swallowing hard.
Suddenly, the tent flap lifted and Laenor rushed in. "Cousin, the Kingdom of the Three Daughters has sent additional troops to garrison Bloodstone Island!"
Rhaegar glanced at him, but remained focused.
With Laenor's intrusion, the tense atmosphere eased slightly. Rhaenys, quick-witted, kicked Borros in the leg socket.
With a thud, Borros fell forward, kneeling before Rhaegar.
Rhaegar looked down at him like a judge.
Fear filled Borros's heart, and he gave up his pride. Trembling, he said, "Prince, your words are the golden rule, and the Stormlands obey your commands!"
Bartimos quickly echoed, "As the Prince commands!"
The scene was shocking, and everyone felt as if they were in an ice cellar.
With one person starting the pledge, others followed.
"At the prince's command..."
Spike Redwyne and several commanders knelt on one knee, offering their loyalty.
Regardless of Rhaegar's reasoning, his tough stance and determination were enough to earn their loyalty.
As he looked at his kneeling bannermen, Rhaegar's icy expression melted into a laugh. "Lord Borros was only joking. Why are you all kneeling?"
He laughed as if it were just a jest.
Borros shivered, forcing a smile onto his face.
The others, though unsure, joined in the laughter. The tent echoed with loud, enthusiastic laughter.
"Hahaha..."
(Word count: 1,537)