The tournament had concluded, leaving behind both glory and tragedy. The streets of King's Landing were bustling with activity as nobles and common folk discussed the recent events. In the halls of the Red Keep, the atmosphere was thick with tension. The mourning for Queen Aemma and Prince Baelon mixed with deliberations about the future of the Targaryen dynasty.
Corwin Celtigar walked through the halls of the Red Keep, his firm steps echoing on the stone. As he reached the balcony that overlooked the main courtyard, he stopped to observe the preparations for Rhaenyra's coronation as heir to the throne. Gael was with him, his regal presence standing out among the attendees.
"I never imagined we would witness such a crucial moment in the history of the Seven Kingdoms," Gael remarked, his eyes fixed on the Targaryen banners fluttering in the wind.
"A crucial and dangerous moment," Corwin replied. "Dragons are power, but so are alliances. Today they crown a young woman as heir, but tomorrow the entire kingdom might be torn apart by that decision."
Gael nodded, his expression solemn. "Rhaenyra has her father's favor, but will she be able to maintain the support of the great lords when the throne is at stake?"
---
In another wing of the Red Keep, Rhaenys Velaryon walked with her daughter Laena. Mother and daughter conversed in low voices, unaware of the curious glances from others.
"Laena, this is a moment to observe and learn," Rhaenys said gently but firmly. "Your place in this world is not secured by your blood, but by how you use your gifts."
"And what about Rhaenyra? She has dragons and the king's favor. Is that enough?" Laena asked, looking at her mother with curiosity.
Rhaenys smiled sadly. "Royal favor is volatile, daughter. Never forget that in this game, everything can change with a single move."
---
Meanwhile, King Viserys remained in his chambers, surrounded by maesters and counselors who were trying to ease his grief. The absence of Aemma had left him devastated, but his duty as king would not allow him to falter.
Otto Hightower entered with a firm step, bowing slightly before speaking. "My king, the preparations are complete. The coronation of Princess Rhaenyra will send a clear message of unity."
Viserys looked up, his eyes red from crying. "Unity... Is that what you think this will achieve, Otto? My daughter barely understands what it means to rule, and already I'm giving her the future of the kingdom."
"She is young, but she will learn," Otto assured him persuasively. "With the right counsel, she will be a queen worthy of the Targaryen name."
Viserys did not respond, but his expression showed doubt. The burden of loss and the weight of the throne seemed too much for him.
Hours later, the ceremony began. The nobles gathered in the Great Hall, decorated with tapestries and emblems celebrating the Targaryen dynasty. The crowd fell silent as Rhaenyra walked down the main aisle, dressed in a red and black mantle that shimmered under the light of the chandeliers. Gael observed the princess carefully from his place beside Corwin.
"She is young, but her presence is striking," Gael whispered.
"She has the charisma of her lineage," Corwin admitted. "But charisma is not the same as power. I hope she is ready for what lies ahead."
As Viserys placed the crown on Rhaenyra's head, the hall erupted in applause. However, not all faces reflected enthusiasm. Corlys and Rhaenys exchanged a glance, both aware that the recent decisions could have unforeseen consequences.
---
After the ceremony, as the guests began to disperse, Corwin approached Rhaenyra in a quieter corner of the hall.
"Princess," he greeted her with a bow of his head. "Today marks the beginning of a challenging path. But if anyone can face it, it's someone of your blood."
Rhaenyra smiled timidly. "Thank you, Lord Celtigar. My steps will be firmer knowing that I have allies like you."
"I've always believed in the power of dragons and in those who ride them," Corwin replied. "But I also know that the throne is not won by strength alone. If you ever need counsel, I am at your service."
Rhaenyra nodded, her expression showing a mix of gratitude and determination. "I will remember, Lord Celtigar."
With these words, Corwin Celtigar left Rhaenyra with a deep thought, as he withdrew with a discreet bow. In that moment, both shared the unspoken understanding that the future of the Seven Kingdoms would depend as much on the will of the dragons as on the wisdom of those who rode them.
---
In one of the more secluded halls of the Red Keep, Otto Hightower was finishing reviewing a document when Corwin Celtigar entered with a determined step. Otto looked up, his face showing a measured smile.
"Lord Celtigar, can I assist you with something?"
Corwin tilted his head slightly, but his eyes gleamed with a hint of sarcasm. "I just wanted to congratulate you, Lord Otto. Not everyone has the skill to displace a king's brother to place a princess as heir. A masterstroke, although I doubt Daemon shares my opinion."
Otto maintained his composure, though his lips tightened slightly. "The stability of the kingdom requires difficult decisions, Lord Celtigar. Daemon, with his... impulses, would never have guaranteed the peace we need. Princess Rhaenyra, on the other hand, has the people's heart."
Corwin let out a brief, almost mocking laugh. "The people's heart is volatile, Otto. And Daemon is a man who neither forgets nor forgives. I hope you're ready for what may come from Dragonstone."
At that moment, a messenger entered the hall, bowing respectfully before both men. "My lord Otto, news has arrived from Dragonstone. Prince Daemon has taken residence on the island and... has proclaimed that Dragonstone is his by right."
Otto's face hardened, but he merely nodded. "Thank you. You may leave."
Corwin watched the messenger leave before returning his gaze to Otto. "It seems the game has only just begun, Lord Otto. I wish you luck. You will need it."
Without waiting for a response, Corwin turned and left the hall, leaving the Hand of the King deep in thought.