Chapter 30
DAERON TARGARYEN—Daeron 'The Good'
Daeron had never felt pain as he had when news of Maekar's death had reached his ears. He had inherited a broken realm from his predecessor, and he had spent all his life trying to mend the honor and standing of his House.
But Daeron was no warrior. That was Daemon. And to think that he had once called the pretender a brother and spared him his life. But the realm had thought his kindness to be a sign of weakness, and so the rebellion had come.
Daeron, alone, would have been a poor match against Daemon, for he was no warrior. But the Gods had blessed him with brave children, and while Daeron may wear the Crown, it had been his two sons who had won him the throne in the rebellion.
Baelor and Maekar.
They were all that a man could ask for in his children. Studious. Noble. Obedient.
He loved Rhaegel and Aerys, but the entire realm knew that Baelor and Maekar were special. But now one of them was gone.
Dead.
And Daeron had planned on exacting his revenge for his loss. He had summoned the boy with that very intention. He had heard much about Baelor's second son, and in all that he heard the boy reminded him more and more of Daemon, and perhaps their likeness had poisoned his heart that he was willing to exile the boy for a crime he had not even committed.
But the boy was not Daemon. Not at all.
And the pain in his eyes told him that he had been punished enough already.
"The value of his oaths," Daeron whispered as he found himself staring at the door from which the boy had just left, and the truth was that a part of him had been searching for that very answer for days.
"Father," Baelor whispered, and he was perhaps the only one who could share his pain and dilemma.
"To think that we have fallen so low that our rule now depends on nothing but the worth of the oaths owed to us," and while painful as it was to admit it, the boy was right.
House Targaryen had fallen far from the days of Aegon the Conqueror and the Conciliator. Once they had been dragonlords, but now they were indeed Kings only because of the oaths and loyalties owed to them.
"He meant no offense," Baelor rose in his defense.
"I know," Daeron answered, as he motioned for his son to sit down. Daeron leaned back and gave out a long sigh.
"I wanted to punish him," and he was honest with Baelor, and he saw his son's lips thin.
"But it seems like he has been punished enough," and Baelor nodded.
"He loved Maekar," and yet he had killed him, and Daeron might have exiled the boy, but his grandson had not walked into that trial for ambition or glory.
No.
He had done so out of duty. He had done what few men had the courage to do, and only the Gods could judge him now.
"I wanted to exile the boy when I called him in," and Baelor sat a bit straighter at that.
"I won't do it now," he assured him, but still the boy would have no place in his Council or his castle.
"But I do not think that I have the heart to see him every day," and Baelor stiffened at that, and thankfully, he had the perfect place to send him.
"His settlement," Daeron suggested, and the entire realm was aware of it now.
"Send him there," and that was all the mercy he could offer him. For a second, he felt as if Baelor would object, but his eldest must have seen the pain in his eyes, as he bowed his head in acquiescence.
"As you wish, father," and with that, Daeron turned away from him, as the boy's words still tumbled in his head.
"I can see why Brynden favors the boy," he whispered, as he stared out the window.
"He truly is quite a unique child...."
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BAELOR TARGARYEN
Baelor could understand his father's pain, but that did not lessen the ache of his punishment. By the laws of men and the Gods, Matarys was innocent. But laws mattered little in the face of a father's love, and the King loved his children.
"This is wrong," his lady wife argued vehemently, and she knew that.
"He is the King," Baelor retorted, and she knew well that he could have been much harsher in his sentencing.
"But he did nothing wrong," and her lips quivered as she rose from the bed and walked up to him, usually he would not hesitate to grant her anything, but even Baelor was helpless now.
"This is no justice," and he knew that well enough.
"This is no punishment either," he argued, for Matarys had not been exiled nor had the King forbidden him from entering the city.
"He will be free to come and visit us in the Red Keep. He just cannot stay here," and even that would not last long. In half a year's time, the pain from Maekar's loss would lessen, and his father's rage would simmer down.
After that, Matarys could come back and reclaim his position here in the Red Keep, but until then, he must live away from them, as penance.
"But he needs us, Baelor," Jenna argued, and her face twisted as she continued.
"I cannot leave him all alone to face this," and he sighed.
"Then perhaps it is as good a time as any to find him a wife," and Jena's head snapped towards him, and he was his son as well, and Baelor was just as worried about him as his lady wife.
"I am afraid that shall not be as easy now either," she answered back with a sigh.
"Half the houses that were interested have already withdrawn their offers," and he had expected this, and the toll of it all was obvious on Jena's face.
"Many who remain will withdraw their offers as well once they see that he no longer has the King's favor," and Baelor gave a deep sigh.
"We will find a suitable match for him," for only a marriage could lift this cloud of sorrow hanging over them, but Jena was clearly not convinced.
"If you say so," and then she wrapped her arms around him and let him bask in her warmth.
"I know that this is not easy for you either," she whispered.
"He was your brother," and that he was.
"Maekar died fighting for his son," Baelor countered.
"One could argue that he died doing his duty as a father," and in the end, there was nothing they could do to change the past now, and they separated as Jena led her to the bed and sat beside him.
"We were thinking of joining our Houses," and the words surprised his wife, and the notion had crossed his mind when Maekar had mentioned looking for potential matches for his children.
He had two daughters, and while Rhae was too young to be considered. The eldest, Daella, could make for a suitable match. She was too young to marry right now, but the match could be made possible with a lengthy betrothal.
He had not spoken of it then, for he had hoped to speak of it to Jena before making a mention of it to Maekar. But now the idea was simply impossible.
"I was," he corrected, as he remembered that he had not mentioned this to Maekar.
"Daella?" Jena guessed, and he nodded.
"It would have been a good match," and Jena agreed with him.
"Aye," and now Baelor did not just have a son to marry off.
"With Maekar gone, his children have lost both their father and their mother," and Maekar's wife had died years ago, leaving him the sole parent for his six children.
Now, he was gone as well.
"They are all still unwed, and as both the King's Hand and his brother I owe it to Maekar to help them now that he is not here to care for them," and Jena nodded.
"I understand," she whispered, and with Aerion headed for the Wall only five would be left. Aegon had already made his decision, and while Baelor was not still convinced by his choice in mentor, there was little he could do to dissuade the boy.
"We must find suitable matches for all five of them," and she shook her head at that, much to his surprise.
"Four," she countered, making him frown.
"Four?" he asked, and she met his eyes as she slowly explained herself.
"Aemon," she began.
"He left the settlement to go to the Citadel," and this was the first time he was hearing about this.
"What?" he asked in surprise, and she nodded.
"He told no one, and the letter came only when he was in Old Town. But by then it was too late to stop him," and that had always been Maekar's intention for him. Aemon had always had a bookish nature, much like his own brother Aerys.
The boy had little interest in politics or swordplay, and so Maekar had thought the Citadel would suit his nature. But then Matarys had asked his brother to send him to his leased lands so that he might care for them and his little projects while he was busy with his squiring.
He had been reluctant at first, but then Maekar had agreed, and Aemon had come to the capital to care for Matarys' leased lands. But now he was gone.
His reasons made sense to him, or at least as much sense as any of this did. But still, this changed much for now. Summer Hall had only two heirs, Daeron and Aegon.
"Does Matarys know?" he asked, and she nodded.
"I told him myself," and he could only sigh in defeat.
"It was his decision to make," Baelor consoled his own heart.
"Aye," but still they had two sons and two daughters to care for.
"May the Gods bring him peace in his endeavors," and he could only pray for him now, but with Aemon at the Citadel, he would have to swear himself off of marriage and titles.
"Aegon is too young for marriage, and I intend to call Daella and Rhae to the capital," Jena added, and it seemed like she had already given it some thought.
"With Maekar gone, Summer Hall shall now fall into Daeron's hands," and his lips thinned as he thought of his brother's eldest son and his vices.
"He may be a knight, but there is much that he still needs to learn about being a lord of such a seat," and Summer Hall was located at rather important land, and the castle had been built at that specific location to deal with the hostilities between the Dornish in the South, and the Stormlanders up in the marches.
It was a rather important seat, and he feared that Daeron was not quite ready for that responsibility yet.
"I shall appoint a castellan there, and have Daeron stay in the Red Keep so I can prepare him for the duties of a lord," and he was sure that he could find a suitable place for him in his retinue.
"Daeron's older than Matarys," he reminded Jena.
"You should look for a suitable match for him as well," and she nodded.
"I will find a suitable girl for him as soon as Matarys is wed...."
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