It was midday, and Viserys' skull throbbed painfully from the wine he had consumed the night before. Thankfully, the large yet ordinary stag he had killed that morning had provided some relief to his headache.
Viserys had been anxious about his decision to name Rhaenyra as his heir, fearing that the Gods might be cruel enough to offer the White Hart to Aegon and force him to reverse his choice, tearing his family apart. However, the brown stag's appearance had brought both relief and disappointment. Relief because his decision had not been proven wrong, and disappointment because his dream had remained just that—a dream. This meant he had killed Aemma for nothing more than the selfish desire to be remembered as a dreamer, making him despicable. His illness felt like a punishment he would endure until his dying day.
He had dispatched a search team to find Rhaenyra, but they had not returned with any news yet. However, to his surprise, Boremund Baratheon approached him and revealed that his son had gone in search of Rhaenyra, though the reason remained unknown.
....
Viserys sat at the grand table with his council and family when he noticed a crowd gathering at the entrance of the camp. Finally, Rhaenyra appeared, her presence commanding as she sat atop her mare, accompanied by Ser Criston and Lord William, who seemed to be pulling something with their horses.
An opening formed, granting Viserys a glimpse of the creature they had captured. His eyes nearly bulged from their sockets when he saw its white skin. Instantly, he rose to his feet, startling Otto and Alicent, but he paid them no mind. He was consumed by a wild hope that he had been right all along. He hurriedly circled the table to get a better view of the beast his daughter had brought back, and when he did, tears of joy and pride filled his eyes.
Rhaenyra's hair and clothes were still stained with the White Hart's blood, which, according to William, added a warrior-like charm to her appearance. She graciously accepted his compliment.
"People will look at you and see a new Visenya," he remarked with a satisfied smirk, a sentiment that proved true.
Nobles and commoners alike regarded her in a new light. Some bowed deeper than ever before, while others appeared more terrified than she had ever seen them. Overall, it was a significant improvement compared to the indifference she had encountered the day prior.
Spotting her father standing near the grand table, Rhaenyra rode toward him, feigning nonchalance as if her triumph was something they all should have expected. However, as soon as she dismounted, she froze at the sight of her father's eyes. Never before had Viserys looked at her with such pride. The tears of joy streaming down his cheeks filled her heart with pride and joy as well. Caught up in the moment, her neutral expression wavered, and a shy smile graced her face.
But then, she noticed the fury in Ser Otto's eyes, and a cruel satisfaction welled up within her purple irises.
"It seems the King of the King's Wood has chosen its Queen, my dear Lord Hand," she uttered in a petulant voice, certain that William would find it amusing.
Visibly shocked, the Hand of the King looked as if he had been slapped across his arrogant face. While her father might reprimand her later, she couldn't bring herself to care. The Hightowers, through Otto's repeated humiliations, had deserved this retribution.
William Baratheon approached the Grand Table, boldly pouring himself two cups of wine, much to the outrage of Lord Lyonel, Lord Hobert, and Lord Jason, and the disbelief of the Queen. He then walked toward the King and his heir, offering Viserys a cup, which he accepted with curiosity. Raising his own cup as high as he could, William locked eyes with Rhaenyra and proclaimed:
"Hail, Rhaenyra Targaryen, the First of her Name! The Future Queen of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm."
"Hear, hear!" Viserys joyfully joined the Baratheon's cheer.
He did not see William's gesture as disrespect; rather, he saw it as a show of support for Rhaenyra. And that was enough for him.
Ser Criston was the first to applaud, followed by Ser Harwin Strong and many other knights and commoners. Even Alicent, her friend, smiled in approval and joined in the applause, before her father and uncle reluctantly followed suit, conceding defeat for the time being.
Rhaenyra's composed facade crumbled as Arthur toasted her. Tears of joy streamed down her cheeks as her father placed a proud hand on her shoulder. She thanked William with a beaming smile that elicited a chuckle from him. For the first time in years, she felt a surge of pride, joy, and satisfaction coursing through her.
In that moment, she truly felt like a Queen, a sensation she had never experienced before.