The afternoon sun was warm upon the godswood.
Birds sang in the branches. Flowers bloomed in the beds. In the distance, young ladies of the court whispered and laughed among themselves, their voices carrying softly on the breeze.
Servants moved quietly, arranging tables and chairs for the king's afternoon tea.
Viserys sat in his chair, watching his youngest son.
Jaehaerys crawled on his lap, babbling happily. The boy was a year old—all life and energy, his silver-gold curls shining in the sun.
«It is good to be young,» Viserys murmured. There was regret in his voice, but also something like relief.
Aelinor stood apart. The smile on her face was brittle, a thing of glass that might shatter at any moment.
She looked at Jaehaerys. At Jaehaera. At this seemingly harmonious royal family.
Her heart was cold.
My family is besieged in Lys. My husband lies wounded in his bed. My good-mother lies to the king with every breath she takes.
And they smile. They laugh. They play at being a family.
«Where is Aemond?» Viserys asked suddenly.
Aelinor's heart clenched at the name.
Why does the king ask for him first? Aegon is the eldest. Aegon is the crown prince. Why does he always ask for Aemond?
Alicent held Jaehaera and answered smoothly.
«He was summoned, Your Grace. Aemond returned from the dragonpit and went to change his clothes.»
Footsteps sounded at the garden entrance.
Aemond was there.
He wore a fresh black shirt, the three-headed dragon embroidered on its breast picked out in gold thread. Helaena walked beside him in a pale blue gown, her long silver-gold hair braided simply, a gentle smile on her face.
They approached Viserys and bowed together.
«Father,» they said in unison.
Viserys looked at them. Beckoned.
«Come. Come to me.»
Aemond stepped forward. He was so tall that Viserys had to reach up; Aemond knelt, lowering his head so his father could touch his silver hair.
Viserys's hand—trembling, thin, spotted with age—rested on his son's head.
«My son,» Viserys said. There was affection in his voice. «Dragonstone. How do you find it?»
Aemond looked up. His violet eye met his father's clouded gaze.
«I am grateful for Your Grace's gift.»
Viserys shook his head.
«It is no gift. It is what you deserve.»
«As a second son, you must support your elder brother. That is your duty.»
He looked at Alicent. His voice was weak, but there was no mistaking the authority in it.
«Let it be known throughout the Seven Kingdoms. Aemond Targaryen is from this day Prince of Dragonstone. He shall enjoy all the rights and privileges of that title.»
Alicent nodded. «I shall see to it, Your Grace.»
Viserys looked back at Aemond. His eyes grew serious.
«Aegon is your brother. He is the crown prince. One day, he will be king.»
«Do not be too impulsive. Think before you act. Always choose wisely.»
Aemond lowered his eyes. «I shall, Father.»
Viserys studied him for a long moment.
Then he sighed. His voice dropped so low that only those closest could hear.
«You remind me of my brother Daemon. You have his… restlessness. His hunger.»
«We Targaryens have too many madmen among us, do we not?»
The words struck like a blade. Those who heard them went still.
But Aemond's expression did not change. He answered calmly.
«I shall protect House Targaryen, Father. That has always been my purpose.»
Viserys seemed to accept this.
He turned to Helaena. Beckoned her closer.
«Helaena. My precious daughter.»
Helaena stepped forward. She knelt beside her father's chair and took his hand. Tears were already streaming down her cheeks.
«Father, you look so much worse than before…»
«Foolish girl, why do you weep?» Viserys brushed the tears from her cheek with his thumb. «I am well enough. Well enough to see you grow…»
He looked at Aemond. Then at Helaena. His gaze moved between them.
«Aemond… Helaena… You are no longer children. Aemond, you turned sixteen last week, did you not?»
Aemond nodded. «Yes, Father.»
«I remember,» Viserys said. He closed his eyes, as if searching through old memories. «I remember all of them. Rhaenyra's nameday is the seventh day of the third moon. Aegon's is the twelfth day of the ninth moon. Yours…»
And then he recited them. Every child's nameday, in perfect order. Without a single mistake.
Alicent's eyes filled with tears.
She remembered a time, years ago, when Viserys had been like this. When he could recall each child's preferences, their first words, their first steps. When he had been a father, not just a king.
«I always remember,» Viserys said. He opened his eyes and looked around the garden—at his children, his wife, his good-daughter.
«In my heart, I remember that you are all my children. My flesh and blood. My continuation. Blood of my blood, fire of my fire.»
Aemond felt something stir in his chest. He did not name it.
«I think…» Viserys continued. «I think it is time.»
«I wish to hold a wedding. A Targaryen wedding.»
The garden went silent.
Alicent held her breath.
Aelinor's eyes widened.
Helaena's cheeks flushed pink.
Aemond's face did not change. He nodded.
Viserys smiled. Through his golden mask, the smile seemed impossibly gentle.
«Good. Good. As soon as may be. While I am still here to witness it.»
He paused, as if remembering something. Then he turned to Alicent.
«Send for Rhaenyra. And Daemon. And little Aegon, little Viserys… I wish to see them. The family should be together.»
Alicent's face went white.
She opened her mouth. No words came.
Aelinor stared at her, panic flickering in her eyes. Helaena looked at Aemond, anxious. Aemond stood perfectly still.
«What is it?» Viserys frowned. «Is something wrong? Can Rhaenyra not come?»
«No… no,» Alicent managed. «It is only… Rhaenyra and Daemon are in Pentos. The journey is long. It will take time to arrange—»
«Then send a ship. The fastest ship we have.»
«I wish to see them. Before I—while I still can.»
Alicent forced a smile onto her face. It was a ghastly thing.
«I shall see to it, Your Grace. Do not trouble yourself.»
Viserys seemed satisfied.
He sank back into his chair. Closed his eyes. His breathing became slow and even.
The milk of the poppy had done its work. He slept.
Alicent gestured. The children withdrew.
Aemond helped Helaena to her feet. They bowed to their sleeping father and left the garden in silence.
Aelinor followed.
Servants lifted Viserys's chair and carried him back to Maegor's Holdfast.
Alicent stood alone in the godswood.
The sun was warm. The birds sang. The flowers bloomed.
Everything was so peaceful. So beautiful.
She felt nothing but cold.