Aemond's gaze fell on them.
Then he smiled.
That smile was far more genuine than the one he had given Larys earlier.
"Mother," he said, "I am in the middle of announcing troop movements."
Queen Dowager Alicent walked in.
She wore a dark blue gown, her hair neatly pinned up. Her face looked more worn than a few days ago, yet those green eyes of hers were still bright.
She walked to the right side of the long table and stopped.
"I know," she said.
She turned slightly to look at Alyn.
"Queen Alyn is here on behalf of the injured King Aegon, to attend the council."
Aemond's gaze shifted to Alyn.
She was holding a swaddled infant in her arms.
That was Jaehaera, Aegon's daughter, a princess born not long ago.
The baby slept soundly, her small face buried in the swaddling cloth, her lips moving slightly now and then.
Aemond glanced once at the bundle.
Then he withdrew his gaze.
"If I remember correctly," he said evenly, "Mother is no longer the regent?"
Alicent's expression stiffened slightly.
Aemond continued: "Mother should spend more time caring for Ysera and Jaehaerys."
"They are still young. They need their mother."
"Aemond." Alicent's voice lowered, carrying a hint of pleading.
Aemond smiled faintly.
He spread his hands.
"Very well. Very well."
He tilted his head slightly and glanced at Hall.
Hall understood at once.
He quickly walked to the corner of the room, picked up an oak chair, carried it over to the right side of the long table, and set it down.
The chair back faced the door. The seat faced the head of the table.
Right side.
First position.
Alicent glanced at the chair, then at Aemond.
She said nothing.
She walked over and sat down.
Alyn was still standing by the door.
She was still holding Jaehaera.
No one brought her a chair.
No one spoke.
Gwayne lowered his head, staring at his fingers.
Ser Willem remained expressionless.
Will stared at the tabletop.
Larys stood in silence, head lowered.
Alyn bit her lip lightly.
She glanced at Alicent. Alicent seemed about to speak for her.
Aemond raised a hand toward his mother.
Alicent fell silent.
Alyn looked at Aemond again.
Aemond stood beside the head of the table, those violet eyes fixed on her.
There was no hostility in that gaze.
Nor was there any kindness.
Only a cold, detached scrutiny.
Alyn lowered her head.
Then, carrying the child, she walked toward the long table step by step.
She walked to the far end.
Directly opposite the head seat.
She gently placed Jaehaera on the table.
The infant stirred slightly but did not wake.
Then she moved to the side of the hall and bent down.
With both hands, she grasped a heavy oak chair.
The legs scraped harshly against the floor.
Everyone listened in silence.
No one rose to help.
No one spoke.
The chair dragged across the floor and finally came to a stop at the very end of the table.
Directly opposite the head seat.
Alyn released her grip.
Next, she picked up Jaehaera from the table.
Then she sat down.
Her back straight, chin slightly raised, her gaze fixed directly on Aemond at the head of the table.
Aemond looked at her.
He said nothing.
Then he sat down as well.
At the head of the table.
Aemond spoke next.
No preamble.
"Will."
Will immediately stood.
"My prince."
"How are the provisions?"
Will's voice was steady and clear. "From Rook's Rest to King's Landing, it takes ten days for infantry to march."
"We have already gathered enough dried rations, salted meat, and oats to feed ten thousand men for twenty days. Loading began three days ago."
Aemond nodded.
"Good."
He turned to the left.
"Gwayne. Willem."
The two stood at once.
Aemond said: "For this campaign, the Royal Guard will send five hundred men. The Crown's army will send three thousand."
Aemond rose.
Both hands braced on the table, he leaned forward slightly, looking down at everyone.
"With my personal guard included—nine thousand five hundred men—we will sweep Rook's Rest clean."
"Capture every member of House Staunton and bring them back to King's Landing for trial."
"If they resist—"
"Alive or dead, it makes no difference."
Gwayne inclined his head slightly.
"As you command."
Ser Willem nodded as well.
"As you command."
Aemond's gaze moved to the last person on the left.
Larys Strong.
Larys did not wait for him to speak.
He leaned on his cane and slowly stood.
He was slower than everyone else, but no one urged him on.
He straightened and gave a slight bow.
"My prince."
Aemond looked at him.
"Go inform all the Crownlands' vassals. Have them assemble their forces at Stokeworth."
"According to the distribution we already agreed upon, each house contributes its share—for a total of five thousand men."
"Have them wait there to join with the royal army."
Larys nodded.
"As you command."
Aemond withdrew his gaze.
He paused for a moment.
His fingers tapped lightly against the table twice.
Who should command this battle?
By all rights, Gwayne Hightower—his uncle and commander of the Royal Guard—was the best choice.
But Hightower…
Willem commanded the Crown's army and had plenty of experience, but he was too rigid, not flexible enough.
As for Hall…
Aemond glanced back briefly.
Hall stood there, unmoving.
Aemond shook his head inwardly.
Not yet.
He was about to speak.
"I recommend someone."
Queen Dowager Alicent stood up.
Her voice was not loud, but it was clear.
Everyone turned to look at her.
Aemond looked at her.
"Please, Mother."
Alicent took a deep breath.
"Ser Criston Cole, Lord Commander of the Kingsguard."
She paused.
"He has served the late king for many years, and he commands the Kingsguard."
Aemond did not respond immediately.
He stared at his mother.
So she was stepping in for Aegon now?
Alicent stood there, her expression complicated.
She wanted him to agree.
Alyn stood up and spoke.
"The king has issued an order."
Holding Jaehaera, she stood opposite the head of the table.
"I speak on behalf of His Grace King Aegon, to deliver his command."
Her voice was clear.
"For this campaign, the commander shall be Ser Criston Cole, Lord Commander of the Kingsguard."
Silence fell.
At the long table, Gwayne's brow twitched slightly.
Ser Willem remained expressionless.
Will lowered his head to the table.
Larys watched in silence.
Alicent looked at Aemond.
Aemond sat at the head of the table.
He showed no expression.
He simply looked at Alyn.
Those eyes were like two deep pools, revealing nothing.
Silence.
A long, long silence.
Then Aemond smiled.
The smile was faint, yet everyone felt the chill behind it.
He placed both hands on the table and slowly stood.
"Ser Cole?"
"Whom does he think he commands?"
Alyn's face changed.
"Prince Aemond," her voice rose slightly, "this is the king's command."
"The king."
Aemond repeated the word.
He spoke with gravity.
"Your Grace,"
"Do you understand how important this battle is?"
Alyn did not answer.
Aemond continued: "Rook's Rest is the only rebellious stronghold left in the Crownlands."
"Lord Staunton has openly declared for Rhaenyra and refuses to acknowledge Aegon as king."
"If we lose this battle, the Black faction will be emboldened."
"And those who support us will lose heart."
He paused.
"Do you understand?"
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