Chapter 6
OTTO HIGHTOWER
The capital was divided in more ways than one. King Jaehaerys had ruled over half a century of peace and prosperity, yet his succession had remained contested to the last day. Finally, in 101 AC, Viserys Targaryen, the male-born heir of Baelon Targaryen, was chosen over Lady Rhaenys Targaryen, the daughter of Prince Aegon Targaryen, the king's eldest.
Otto had been named as Hand of the King by Jaehaerys himself, plucked out of Prince Baelon's retinue, and now he had served the realm for more than a decade, doing his duty as Hand of the King.
A duty which was not made any easier, for unlike the Old King, King Viserys needed to be saved not just from himself but from those scurrying around him as well; the most dangerous of these was his own brother.
Daemon Targaryen was a power-hungry, unruly and prideful man, blessed with the Targaryen beauty and masterful with a blade, he had the makings of a fine night, yet his nature was far too sinister to be anything but.
He was the King's heir and wielded much power because of that position, and just now, the King had increased his influence as he made his brother the new Commander of the City Watch while granting him enough gold to buy half the Street of Steel.
"I must object to this," Otto began, trying to make the King see reason. The King turned to him with a frown.
"Despite the fullness of our coffers, we must be cautious over spending so much gold without any oversight," and the Rogue Prince smirked.
"How many times have you been to the city, Lord Hightower," Daemon cut in.
"Crime has become rife, and the small folk no longer feel safe in the capital, a city that by all means should be the Crown jewel of my brother's Kingdom," he cut in, and Otto clenched his teeth. Say what you will about Daemon, he was not without intellect, especially when it came to manipulating his own brother.
"Daemon is right. Kings Landing has been on a downturn since the demise of Queen Alyssane. It is high time that we rectified this neglect, and this City Watch is the first step in that direction." The king overruled, and Otto saw this for what it was—a lost battle.
"Daemon, you will have the Gold, but do understand that I will not have it wasted. Use it as you may, but I will want results," the King warned, and the younger brother smirked at him subtly, and if the King saw it, he made no show of it.
"I will not disappoint you, brother." It enraged him to see him making a mockery of proper decorum, yet he held his tongue, knowing that this was not a battle to fight.
"Then I believe this meeting is concluded," and with that, the other councillors left, and just as he was about to stand up, the King called him out.
"Otto, stay," and he halted in his movements, as the King motioned for him to sit down.
He saw Prince Daemon grit his teeth at that, yet he still left the room, leaving him alone with the King once more.
Despite what one may think, Viserys Targaryen was not truly blind to the divides and the machinations around him. He was aware, coarsely if not acutely, but aware nonetheless.
He just chose ignorance, believing that such things would sort themselves out.
"Prince Aegon has ridden out from Runestone and is headed to the capital with a retinue of around fifty men," the King announced, and he was surprised by those words. Alicent had told him of the Prince's much-sought arrival, yet he had not believed it.
After all, over the years, through fate or design, the Prince and the Vale had continued to evade such summons in one way or another, defying some at the last second. An insult, which was continuously ignored by the King, who had never truly pushed over the matter.
And Otto had an inkling about the reason for that behavior, and though a part of it was because of Prince Daemon and the sour relationship between him and his Lady wife, the bigger reason was something else.
A prince was born of the second son, who was the heir to the throne, in a time of disputed succession. Ironically, the Prince bore much resemblance to the King in his birth and station than his own father.
However, he could not say the same about his other activities. The Prince, despite his age, had earned himself quite a moniker for his actions and was renowned the land over as the 'Bloody Prince', and according to the rumors had amassed quite some power in the Vale,
"He comes here in Lady Jeyne's stead, and I wish accommodations be arranged for him and his retinue," he said, turning towards him.
"I will see it done, your grace," he said as a loyal hand should, as his mind raced to see how such a development could shape the court.
"But you, grace, wasn't the young Prince busy with his campaign against the Vale's Mountain clansmen," he asked hesitantly, recalling the excuse used by the Vale in denying their summons for the last few years.
"Indeed, he was. But we have received word. He has emerged victorious, and the last of the Mountain clansmen were defeated a week ago," the King added proudly, and that was worrying.
The Prince was an enigma, known in the capital through only rumors and songs, which painted two very distinct images. Some made him out to be a bloodthirsty, proud, and scandalous boy much like his father, while others painted a picture of a perfect knight, and saint.
And Otto did not think that anyone with Daemon's blood in their veins could be a saint.
"That is quite an achievement, your grace," he added.
"But may I ask, will the Lady Royce be accompanying the Prince on this journey," and against his wishes, the King shook his head.
"No, he comes alone, accompanied by a Royce cousin."
"That is understandable," he added and the King nodded.
"Indeed, despite the years, the tension between the Vale and the Crown has not lessened, though I am hoping that with this step, we could start anew," the King added, his optimism over this matter much greater than it should be.
"I should not say it, but I must add that this hostility between the Vale and the Crown is merely because of Prince Daemon's actions. His constant insulting and belittling of his lady wife are no secret and must find their way back to her and the other lords of the region," and the King sighed as he leaned back.
"I have long given up on any hope in that regard. Even grandmother, the Good Queen, could not mend this broken match, and I am not arrogant enough to believe that I have half the mind she had in these matters," he added with a chuckle.
"Queen Alyssane brokered this match herself and was heartbroken by how things turned out," Otto added, having seen the old Queen's resignation over the matter.
"She was, but we can only hope and look forward. Keep Aegon's quarters away from my brother's. The compound near Rhaenyra's quarters shall be appropriate enough," and it irked him to put Daemon's son so close to the Princess.
But he chose not to voice it out at the moment.
"I will see it all done according to your wishes."
"Good. Good, now has there been any word from Corlys?" the King asked.
"A missive came in the night. The master of the Ships rides back to Kingslanding. His ships were attacked in the Stepstones, and from the reports, three were sunk by the Crab feeder and his men," he informed the king of the happenings.
"Corlys will not be happy about that. He will again push for war," the King said tiredly.
"He will, but in the end, the decision is yours. After all, you are the King."
0000
RHAENYRA TARGARYEN
Rhaenyra Targaryen was tired from her lessons, and the Princess hated being forced to study boring history, for she thought it was pointless. What did it matter which Lord did what a hundred years ago? She would much rather spend that time on dragon back, riding across the Seven Kingdoms and beyond, exploring the world and its wonders.
Yet, as Alicent would oft put it, she was a Princess, and that came with its duties, some of which were simple enough as studying the history of the land, and others were not so simple.
As she sat with her head plopped into her lap, she felt her worries and tensions vanish as her friend's sweet voice lulled her to sleep.
"Rhaenyra. Rhaenyra," suddenly Alicent called out her name, forcing her out of her trance.
"I am listening," she answered even if it was a lie, one which was easily caught.
"You were not," Alicent chided her. When she opened her eyes, she saw a frustrated Alicent looking at her with a frown.
"What was I saying?" she questioned.
Rhaenyra tried to glance at the page, but her dear friend betrayed her and simply closed the book.
"I said I was listening. I never said I was memorizing," she rebutted, and Alicent rolled her eyes.
"Rhaenyra, the septa will test us on this tomorrow," she said, shaking her head.
"And I will tell her that I have no interest in it," she replied sharply.
"And then she will complain to your father, who will cut down on your dragon rides. Do you want that?" Alicent coaxed her, and she shook her head.
"Then listen..." she said, and as her friend tried to open the book once more, she closed it off as she turned in her lap.
"But I do not want to," she said, knowing that she was being a bit needy and belligerent, but she was a princess, and she was allowed a bit of indulgence, especially by her precious little friend.
"You are a princess. You cannot run away from your duties," Alicent told her, giving in to her as she put away the book.
"Don't I know it?" she said, rolling her eyes as Alicent began to play with her hair. In that moment, all the different worries and apprehensions eased off.
"If it were up to me, I would fly away on Syrax and eat only cake," she retold her, her little dream, and saw her smile with rosy cheeks.
"Syrax is old enough to saddle two; perhaps I could give you a glimpse of that future," she asked, and immediately, her friend paled.
"I like my feet on the ground, thank you very much," Alicent replied, still not over her fear of heights.
"Still, we have duties and lessons, one which you are not preparing for..."
"Do not worry about it too much, my dear. I highly doubt we will be having a class with the septa tomorrow," and Alicent frowned at her claim.
"Why do you say that? Are you planning to play another prank on her," she asked cautiously, and she shook her head despite how tempting the notion was.
"No, but a letter came in the night. Aegon and his party are within a day's march from us, and he will be here by tomorrow. I doubt he will care enough that we studied with the septa or...."
But before she could continue, a servant came in and knelt down.
"My lady, I bring news. The Prince's riding party was seen entering the city," and she frowned at that.
"I thought they were to arrive tomorrow," she asked, excitement building in her gut at the prospect of finally meeting her cousin.
"We thought so as well, but they re here and the King is busy in a meeting," he said and she nodded as she got up.
"And my uncle, Daemon, where is he?" and the servant just shook his head.
"Come then, Alicent," she said excitedly.
"Let us go and welcome my cousin," she said excitedly. As she was about to run forth, Alicent held her back.
"Wait, a little, my dear." With that, she halted as Alicent dusted off her hair, sifting out the leaves and petals that had been struck inside.
"You wouldn't want to give a bad impression now, would you?"
0000
ALICENT HIGHTOWER
Prince Aegon Targaryen was a mysterious existence known tot he people of the capital through rumors and letters. She had read some of the letters written by the Prince to Rhaenyra, yet she also knew that written word could be misleading and that the rumours surrounding the Prince were not very kind.
And so she was quite curious when the retinue from the Vale rode through the city and towards the Red Keep as she stood beside Rhaenyra, who was buzzing with excitement as the retinue came to a halt.
They were flying several banners, including the burning tower of House Corbyn, the Flacon of House Arryn, and the most prominent, a Bronze shield decorated with studs and ancient First Men ruins, the flag of House Royce, to show their heritage.
A man jumped down from the horse, his armor light and well built, his helm fashioned into the shape of the face of a dragon, and as he took it off from his face, the first thing she noticed was the hair.
They were dark, darker than her own but with a single silver blonde sliver than fell down from the front as he pushed them back with his hand, and walked towards her and Rhaenyra with a smile, a smile which was quite reminiscent of his own father.
And his face showed his lineage. The Targaryen were famous for their godly beauty, and the Prince, despite his hair, was no exception. His face resembled his father in its pointy chin and thin nose, but the young Prince's features were much softer, taking away the 'roguish' feeling one would often feel around the King's younger brother.
"It seems that you can escape me no more, cousin," Rhaenyra said as she troded forward and stood in front of the Prince, and the rest of the men began to dismount.
"Only a fool would try to escape you," the Prince smiled, his tone light and hearty as Rhaenyra giggled and curtsied.
"On behalf of the Royal family, I welcome you and your men to the capital," she said.
The Prince nodded and gave her a small bow.
"We are honoured by your presence, Princess Rhaenyra," he said as another young man joined him. Unlike the prince, he wore bronze armor and was older than him.
"This is my cousin, Willam Royce," the Prince introduced as bread and salt was presented and a small morsel eaten.
"It is good to see you, Ser Willam," Rhaenyra greeted the young knight, who blushed profusely at that before Rhaenyra suddenly frowned and turned towards her.
"Alicent," she called out, but she had not realized how she had been staring, so she walked forward.
"It is good to finally see you, Prince Aegon," she said with a small curtesy.
"I have read much about you, Lady Alicent, and your beauty goes even beyond anything I could have imagined, the Prine said as he took her hand and gave it a small kiss.
"You are very generous, my Prince," she said as Rhaenyra hit her with an elbow.
"Now, mother wishes to see you. I believe the guards shall see your men to their accommodations," Rhaenyra added as the Prince nodded.
"Lead the way, Princess."
0000
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