Maegor's Holdfast, Aemond's Chambers.
When Helaena woke, the sky was not yet light. Lying beside Aemond, she could feel that her husband was already awake; his body was taut, like a fully drawn bow.
She turned gently and, in the flickering candlelight by the bed, saw his violet eyes staring fixedly at the ceiling, lost in thought.
"Have you not slept at all?" she asked softly.
"I cannot," Aemond's voice was slightly raspy.
"There is too much to arrange."
Helaena reached out to stroke his face; his skin felt cold to her fingertips.
"After today... will everything be alright?"
"No," Aemond answered honestly.
"After today, it truly begins."
He sat up. Helaena helped him dress, first the white shirt, then the mail shirt lining, and finally the black tunic she had sewn herself, embroidered with the Golden Three-Headed Dragon on a black field.
"I had another dream," Helaena said.
Aemond's hands paused as he buckled his belt.
"What dream?"
"A dream of dragons and fire... a red dragon falling from the sky." Helaena's voice was thin.
"The flames looked at me and said... One becomes King, ten thousand become ash."
Aemond turned, knelt by the bedside, and gently took her hands in his. Looking up at her, he said,
"Helaena, I know what you see. But events are shaped by us; nothing is yet written so it can be changed."
Helaena hoped he was right. Yesterday, while praying at the Sept with there mother, Alicent, she had overheard the whispers of noble ladies.
They whispered that the King was barely cold before the Prince rushed to crown his brother Aegon; they said Aemond controlled all the military power and might one day usurp his brother's seat.
They said this war would turn the Seven Kingdoms into a river of blood.
A handmaid knocked and entered with hot water and towels. Once Aemond finished washing, he strapped on the Valyrian steel sword, Blackfyre.
Finally, he looked at Helaena.
"Stay with Mother today. No matter what happens, do not leave her side."
"And you?"
"I must ensure everything goes smoothly," Aemond said, a cold light flashing in his violet eyes.
"I will kill anyone who dares cause trouble today."
He turned and left. As the door closed, Helaena heard the heavy thud of many footsteps outside,
not just Aemond's, but his long-waiting personal guard, marching away in rhythmic, heavy unison.
---------
Aegon's Chambers.
Aegon's leg was throbbing painfully. Not long ago, a doctor sent by Aemond had changed his medicine and re-bandaged the wound.
But a broken bone was a broken bone; it would take time to mend. Now, he stood before a mirror leaning on his cane, staring at the man in the coronation robes.
"Your Grace, it is time to depart," a handmaid whispered.
Your Grace. The title made Aegon flinch. From this day forward, he would be Aegon Targaryen, Second of His Name, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms.
But he felt no joy, only dread. He feared the Iron Throne, he feared the war, and he feared Rhaenyra and Daemon.
He even feared his brother Aemond, who always stood behind him, pulling the strings. He feared the lingering scent of death that seemed to follow him.
The door opened. Princess Aelyn entered, dressed in a white velvet gown with a sable-trimmed neckline and a golden crown set with sapphires.
"Let me help you," Aelyn said, her voice gentle.
Aegon knew what she was thinking, she was Queen now.
Though their political marriage lacked passionate love, Aegon had to admit she was a good wife.
She was always looking out for him, planning for him.
The handmaids withdrew. Aelyn adjusted his collar; her touch was light, but Aegon still winced in pain.
"Endure it," she whispered in his ear.
"After today, you are King. The fate of everyone is in your hands."
"In my hands?" Aegon gave a bitter laugh.
"Or in Aemond's?"
Aelyn's hands paused. She hesitated before saying, "Aemond is your brother; he will support you."
"Support? Or control? The nobles recognize me, but the army is in his hands, and all matters of state come from his office. Even the Lords of the Crownlands are but dogs he has tamed."
The couple locked eyes. Aelyn looked away first, urging him softly, "Regardless, take the Iron Throne first. Only when you are seated there do we have the right to discuss anything else."
Aegon let out a helpless sigh.
A knock came from the door:
"Your Grace, the Royal Guard has assembled in the Red Keep. We must depart." It was the voice of Criston Cole.
Aegon took one last look in the mirror. The handsome, silver-haired man within wore the black robes of a King but leaned on a cane like a crippled dragon.
"Let's go," he said.
The sun rose, but the morning mist had not yet burned away. At the foot of Visenya's Hill, there was a sea of people.
The smallfolk of King's Landing crowded the roadsides, craning their necks. Today brought not just a new King, but a bounty: plenty of white bread, free broth, and two copper stars for every soul.
To the commoners, the free food and coin from King Aegon were the only things that mattered.
"Make way! Make way!"
Royal soldiers roughly shoved the crowds aside to clear a path for the escorting knights.
Some who were slow to react were knocked down, causing brief commotions that were quickly suppressed.
Two carriages emerged from the Red Keep. The first held Aegon, Aelyn, and Alicent; the second held Helaena.
Aemond was not in a carriage; he had gone ahead to the Great Hall to oversee preparations and guard against any sudden threats.
Inside the carriage, Aegon sat in silence. Aelyn was nervous, gripping his hand.
Opposite them, Dowager Queen Alicent was dressed in black with a dark veil, her expression solemn.
"Aegon?" Alicent asked softly.
"Are you not happy?"
Aegon smiled bitterly. "This crown would be better suited for Aemond. Perhaps I was never meant for it."
Hearing her eldest son's recurring foolishness, Alicent suppressed her fury.
"Do not speak such nonsense! You should at least be decent enough to accept this with a smile. Besides, your father was poisoned; you must avenge him."
"Enough," Aegon interrupted.
"Whether Rhaenyra killed him or not is still uncertain."
"You wretch!"
Alicent couldn't help but raise her hand, giving him a sharp but light slap.
Aelyn hurried to soothe Aegon's face; fortunately, the blow left no mark, or it would have been a scandal at the ceremony.
"Do you doubt your brother?" Alicent's voice trembled.
"Do you doubt Aemond?"
"No." Aegon lowered his head, pulling the Valyrian steel dagger, his father's heirloom, from his tunic and toying with it.
"You all say I'm a fool, but I can see the ambition in Aemond's eyes. He doesn't even hide it. What does he see me as? A stepping stone?"
"Aemond would never," Alicent promised.
"Not as long as I live. You are the heir personally designated by your father, Viserys I."
"I was simply the choice he had when he had no other choice," Aegon sighed, looking out the window at the cheering crowds.
Alicent fell into a silent gloom.
Suddenly, Aegon turned back to her. He paused, then asked, "Mother, did you ever love me?"
Alicent froze. After a long silence, she said, "You truly are a fool."
The carriage continued onward, and outside, the cheers of the crowd grew louder and louder.
-----
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