The lords sat in stunned silence. None of them had expected this twist.
Even Tywin and Lady Olenna looked visibly shaken.
Tywin's brow furrowed at first, surprised that Daeron had been holding Rhaegar's letter the whole time. Then his expression eased. This seals it, he thought.
Rhaegar voluntarily renouncing his claim carried far more weight than any council vote.
But why didn't Daeron pull the letter out earlier? Tywin wondered. Was he trying to humiliate Rhaegar first?
Lady Olenna was simply shocked. She hadn't expected anyone—least of all Rhaegar—to throw away the Iron Throne for a woman.
Though he wouldn't be the first, and probably not the last.
"Ha. Targaryen madness," she muttered, her face tightening with old, unpleasant memories.
If two of the sharpest political minds in the Seven Kingdoms were rattled, the rest of the lords were outright reeling. Several looked ready to drop their jaws on the floor.
Lord Mathis Rowan of Goldengrove stepped forward, frowning. "Your Grace, you say this is Prince Rhaegar's letter, but Prince Rhaegar is not here. How can we be sure it's truly his handwriting?"
Mathis had fought alongside Daeron and respected him, but he still believed in the law of primogeniture. That was why he had abstained during the vote.
The moment he spoke, more lords demanded to examine the letter for themselves.
Daeron raised a hand. The hall quieted.
"This letter was delivered to me by Prince Oberyn Martell himself," he said. "He can vouch for its authenticity."
Oberyn kept one arm protectively around Elia's shoulders, shielding his sister. When every eye turned to him, his expression grew complicated.
"It's true," he said, voice steady. "Prince Rhaegar gave me this letter with his own hands and told me to deliver it to Prince Daeron."
With Oberyn's confirmation, most of the lords accepted it at once.
Anyone else might lie. House Martell had no reason to. They were Rhaegar's in-laws, after all. And the man speaking was the infamous Red Viper. Oberyn was many things, but he wasn't known for lying.
Daeron passed the letter to Maester Aemon for final verification.
The old maester already knew the truth, but he still examined it carefully, studying the handwriting and absorbing every word.
After a long moment, under the watchful eyes of the entire hall, Maester Aemon sighed softly.
"I, Aemon Targaryen, son of Maekar the First, hereby confirm that this letter was written by the current heir to the Iron Throne and Prince of Dragonstone, Rhaegar Targaryen."
He paused, then added, "When I served at the Wall, the boy wrote to me often. I know his hand. There is no mistake."
Most lords had no idea who the white-haired, stooped old maester really was. They had simply assumed he was a new Grand Maester.
Only a few recognized him—and even they had only guesses.
When Aemon finally spoke his full name and title, it hit the hall like a thunderclap.
Aemon Targaryen.
Third son of Maekar I. The prince who had willingly given up his claim so his younger brother could become Aegon V. The man who had joined the Night's Watch.
He was still alive?
Aemon offered a tired, gentle smile, as if he had expected their shock.
"I never imagined I would live this long," he said quietly. "Or that I would return to this familiar land and finally be able to help my family without fear."
A few lords who knew the old story fell silent.
Decades ago, Aemon had refused the crown. With Bloodraven's help, he had placed his brother Aegon V on the throne. When Bloodraven tricked the Blackfyre pretender into coming to King's Landing and had him killed, then asked Aegon V for his own execution so he could take the black, young Aemon had gone to his brother that same night.
He told Aegon that several great houses had approached him privately, asking him to claim the throne and depose his own brother—because Aemon was older, and because Aegon's "Fair Law" had angered the nobility.
Aegon had been furious at the lords' audacity. He had grabbed Aemon's hand and offered to step down so his older brother could rule.
Aemon had gently pulled his hand free. He would not name the lords who had approached him, he said. He had sworn an oath not to put them in danger. He also urged Aegon not to seek revenge.
And then he told his brother he was going to the Wall with their great-uncle Bloodraven.
His identity was too dangerous. King's Landing could not hold him. The Citadel could not hold him. As long as he remained in Westeros, ambitious lords would keep coming to him, trying to use him against his own family.
Aegon had begged him to stay and serve as Grand Maester.
Aemon had refused.
If he did not take the black, the trouble would never end.
Now, decades later, everything had changed. Aegon V was long dead. So were most of his children and even Jaehaerys II.
At the request of his great-nephew Daeron, Aemon had finally returned.
He could rest easy now.
At his age, with his failing body, no one could use him to destabilize the family anymore.
He could finally stay with his kin and give what little he had left to House Targaryen.
With both Oberyn and Maester Aemon confirming the letter, Rhaegar's words were no longer in doubt.
"Your Grace, you should have shown us this letter earlier," Lord Mathis Rowan said, sounding defeated. "We could have skipped the entire vote."
Mathis had always admired Rhaegar. Like most lords, he had believed the silver prince was the one who would restore House Targaryen's glory.
Now that illusion was cracking.
But not everyone was focused on the succession.
Lord Peck of Starfall stepped forward, his face dark.
"Your Grace, if Prince Rhaegar wishes to renounce his claim and pass it to you, we will not oppose it. But he has broken Andal tradition by taking a second wife. What are we supposed to make of that?"
One husband, one wife. That was the Andal way—and the custom followed by both First Men and Rhoynar.
Only the ancient Valyrians had kept the custom of multiple wives. And even then, the dragonlords of Valyria had their own internal rules.
After the "Holy Accord" between Jaehaerys the Conciliator and the Faith, House Targaryen—the last dragonlord family—had given up polygamy.
Rhaegar was spitting in the face of both Andal tradition and the Faith of the Seven.
"There are reasons," Daeron said calmly.
He nodded to Maester Aemon, who began passing the letter to the great lords in the front row.
"Rhaegar has renounced his place in our family and exiled himself to Lys. He sees himself as a Valyrian, not a Westerosi Andal. That is why he restored the old custom and married Lady Lyanna Stark."
In plain terms: Rhaegar had stepped outside the Westerosi system. Andal laws and the Seven no longer bound him.
The letter moved from Tywin to Mathis Rowan to Lord Peck and on through every lord in the hall.
As they read, faces changed. Some turned pale. Some flushed with anger. A few looked ready to weep.
In their minds, the perfect Prince Rhaegar was never supposed to be like this.
The illusion was shattered.
Daeron watched the reactions with quiet satisfaction.
Rhaegar was never perfect, he thought. He was just repressed. Now he's finally broken free.
With parents and a family like theirs, even Daeron—with all his past-life memories—had barely stayed sane.
A normal person would never have slept with his own sister.
Of course, this was the collision of two traditions: the Andal customs of Westeros and the ancient practices of House Targaryen.
Modern Targaryens were raised under the Faith of the Seven, yet they were still expected to follow their own unique bloodline rules. The conflict was brutal.
It was like being taught honesty and kindness in school, only to be beaten down by a cruel world that told you everything you learned was bullshit—while still being forced to wear the mask of honesty if you wanted to survive.
Some cracked and became moral paragons like Baelor the Blessed or Aegon V.
Others became arrogant monsters like Maegor or "Brightflame" Aerion.
Very few found balance.
"Your Grace, do you not think this breaks tradition?" Lord Peck demanded.
Rhaegar had run off with Lyanna, sparked a four-kingdom rebellion, stayed hidden the entire war, and now casually abandoned the throne and the entire Westerosi system.
The lords felt betrayed. Anger rose fast.
"How am I supposed to argue with my brother when he's already left Westeros?" Daeron countered.
Lord Peck's mouth snapped shut. He had no answer.
But the damage was done.
The mood in the Hall of a Hundred Hearths turned heavy, like the air before a storm.
Daeron had planned for this.
"My lords," he said, voice carrying clearly, "my brother has left Westeros and taken root in Lys. He wishes to found a new branch of our family there."
"I, as Regent Prince, support his decision—while also offering guidance."
"Once this Great Council ends, I will convene the Small Council and name Rhaegar Prince of Summerhall. We will rebuild Summerhall for him and preserve the lands and legacy that still tie him to Westeros."
The lords' eyes lit up.
This way, Rhaegar would not be completely cut off from Westeros. He would still have one foot in the realm.
Andal tradition could still reach him.
Daeron had expected the backlash. In fact, he wanted it.
Rhaegar had taken a second wife. Daeron himself was still unmarried.
He hadn't decided on a second wife yet, but it was wise to prepare the ground.
He would not let Rhaegar wash his hands of everything and leave the mess for others to clean.
Giving him Summerhall was a way to pull him back in.
Still, out of respect for Rhaegar voluntarily giving up the throne, Daeron would not interfere with the polygamy.
At worst, it would become a negotiation.
The Life Knight and Gem Knight training methods existed precisely to grow the pie and keep the great houses content.
Once the first exception was made, the line would keep moving.
"On another matter," Daeron continued, "I intend to add a new seat to the Small Council. My great-uncle, Aemon Targaryen, will fill it as Prince of the Dragonblood."
"This position will oversee all royal family affairs—maintaining kinship ties, recording lineages, and managing the royal bloodline."
"For example, in Rhaegar's case, the Prince of the Dragonblood would confirm his new branch in Lys, record his children's names, and clarify how that branch relates to the main Targaryen line."