"Teach," they said, though they warned it would not be easy. I understood that well enough. I've been a prince in two worlds. In Greece, I never got to rule, but they trained me in the art of governance from the time I could speak. I was born and bred to lead. In this world, the gods rarely interfere—well, some do. But here I am, restrained. Why can I not act as I should?
Aegon chuckled to himself. *Why indeed? I can't lie to my kin; I realized that young. But with King Viserys, all I sense is death and weakness. The dragon's blood I should feel in him is absent—how does one stop being a dragon?
The court factions were real, tangible, and so obvious to him. The Hightowers, the glances they cast at his grandmother and father—they seemed wrong. Only they, of all the family he had seen so far, genuinely prioritized their kin. His father, true, was mostly for himself, yet he was not against his family. A complex yet simple character, Aegon mused. *Father sees things only in dragon terms—'dragon good, not dragon, bad.' But now he has someone to guide him.
His father's instincts were sharp, refusing to trust the Citadel or the Faith, both of which were tainted by their affiliation with Otto Hightower. The Hand's pursuit of power and control disgusted both father and son. Aegon would deal with them with extreme prejudice; Otto was a man who built "plans within plans." But he was about to discover that exposing even one would unravel all the others.
Aegon's thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door.
"Enter," he called out calmly. Princess Helaena entered, escorted by a Kingsguard he barely noticed. "Cousin, it's always a pleasure to see family," Aegon greeted her warmly, flashing a smile that revealed his sharp teeth. Though many would find it unsettling, Helaena found it endearing.
"You're the smiling dragon in my dreams, aren't you?" she asked in her usual dreamy tone.
"Hm, I couldn't say," he replied, entertained by the cryptic question. "But if a dragon were to smile, that dragon would certainly be me." The Kingsguard looked puzzled, but Aegon didn't care.
Helaena smiled. "For years, I dreamed of war and suffering. But since I learned of your coming to King's Landing, all I've seen is the smiling dragon, with black and green banners burning on a tower."
"So, you dream often of this handsome, smiling dragon, cousin?" Aegon teased, his wings twitching slightly as he chuckled.
"Oh yes. In my dreams, he lets me ride on his back," she replied, her tone filled with wonder. Aegon was fascinated—Helaena was clearly a pure soul and a dreamer.
He turned to the Kingsguard. "Sir Knight, fetch tea and snacks for us. The princess and I will be talking for a while. I don't care who you report this to, but if anyone interrupts my time with the princess, I'll make sure every living dragon burns down your hometown." Aegon smiled gently, leaving the knight confused yet visibly intimidated. The knight quickly left to pass along the request to the maids outside and returned to his post, now a quiet observer as the cousins conversed.
In the Hand's Tower
Rhaenyra Targaryen will arrive tomorrow with her children,* Otto thought. *The boy despises anything that doesn't resemble a Targaryen; I wonder what he'll make of her bastards, those Strong boys. Clearly, he's no friend to me or my house, and I doubt he'll bow to a woman as queen.
A knock at the door interrupted Otto's thoughts. "Enter," he said. Alicent strode in, a hint of panic in her walk, followed by Ser Criston Cole, still recovering from his encounter with Aegon.
"What is it?" Otto asked.
"Helaena went to see the boy hours ago," Alicent said, concern evident in her voice. "Whenever I send a guard to retrieve her, they return injured, saying that Ser Arryk Cargyll attacked them before they could reach her. And now, the two of them are wandering the castle together, and it's becoming difficult to locate them."
Otto was momentarily baffled. *Why would Cargyll prevent the guards from bringing her back?* Still, he saw potential in the situation. "If Helaena can secure the boy's favor and bind him to us through marriage, we might avoid war or, at the least, gain a way to eliminate him."
Alicent's eyes widened, but Otto continued, turning to Ser Criston Cole. "Ser Criston, be careful if the boy chooses a champion for your duel; do not kill him outright. Leave him wounded, but alive."
Cole nodded but asked, "And what if the boy chooses to fight me himself?"
Otto's expression didn't waver. "Then do not kill him. He is only eleven years old."
Otto trusted in Cole's skills with the sword and flail, but he'd limit the boy by forbidding him from using his wings in the duel. The boy's strength was undeniable, but as long as Otto controlled the rules, he believed he could control the outcome.