The doors closed behind him with a hollow, final sound as Aegon once again entered the King's Solar. He stepped forward and took a seat in front of the desk.
Across the chamber, Jaehaerys I Targaryen stood with his back to him, hands clasped tight behind him, gaze cast over King's Landing through the tall window.
To the side, Baelon Targaryen sat at the table, a stamp rolling slowly between his fingers. Back and forth. Back and forth. His eyes unfocused.
No one said anything and the silence stretched as Aegon prepared himself for whatever punishment he might get.
The worst case scenario he could think was the King sending him to the Wall. In which case he would simply go over to the Land Beyond the Wall. With his powers, it shouldn't be that difficult for him to survive. And eventually thrive.
Was there anything worse than that? Well, he supposed the King could strip him of the Targaryen name, but he somehow doubted it. Despite all the disdain the King held for Saera, he still hadn't written her off from the family. So he doubted it would happen to him.
The King could punish him by refusing him and his line a dragon henceforth. In which case he'd simply wait till the King is dead before taking his own dragon, Vermithor, for himself. Wouldn't that just be hilarious.
The sound of the door opening brought him out of his thoughts and he turned to see Viserys stepping in, only to pause as he noticed the tense silence within the room. His gaze flicking from their father, to him, and to their grandfather's rigid back.
Viserys hesitated. Then cleared his throat. "They've left," He said at last, his voice careful. "House Royce I mean. And the Vale lords left with them."
The words settled heavily into the room. And he looked to the King to see how he would react. Jaehaerys didn't turn, or show any other reaction. A long moment passed before he finally spoke up. "Leave us."
Viserys inclined his head once and slipped out, looking almost relieved at being dismissed.
The door closed and the heavy silence returned once again.
Then Jaehaerys moved. Slowly, he turned from the window, walked back to his chair and lowered himself into it. For a moment, he said nothing. Then his eyes found Aegon. "Are you satisfied?"
Aegon shook his head once. No, if it was up to him, he would never have put Lady Rhea through something like that. Nor did he want to shame his family. But the circumstance left him with little choice.
A short, humourless laugh escaped the king. "No?" he said. "Then what would take it for you to be happy? Perhaps when you've insulted and turned every house in the realm against us, then you'll be happy?"
Aegon tilted his head slightly. "Do not put this on me, your grace. I never asked for any of this."
"For a marriage with a reputable house?"
"A marriage with a woman I've never even met before."
"So that's your excuse then? You wanted to meet her before marriage. What would that have changed?"
"I would have known whether we were right for each other or not."
"So you're saying you're not at fault here. Is that what I'm hearing?" The King asked softly.
He shrugged. "I'm at as much fault as a drowning man is at fault for trying to get another breath."
The king's expression hardened. "Lady Rhea Royce is a noblewoman of good character and standing. She would have given you lands, a castle, allies, a future." His voice sharpened. "She was a far better match than you deserved."
His lips sharpened into a thin line as he did his best to not be affected by the King's words.
"You have no accomplishments," the king continued. "No men. No land. No command. No legacy. Nothing but a name you seem intent on dragging through the mud."
Aegon's eyes narrowed. 'I'm only thirteen.' He wanted to say, but he doubted that Jaehaerys would care.
"You stand here," Jaehaerys pressed, "having insulted one of our most loyal houses, shamed your family before the realm, and you dare—dare—to compare the marriage to drowning?"
Aegon inhaled slowly. 'It doesn't matter.' He reminded himself. 'None of this matters. Given enough time, I'm going to become a god. This is nothing.'
"Speak," the king snapped suddenly. "Or have you lost even that courage?"
Aegon remained still.
"I said speak!" Jaehaerys barked, rising halfway from his chair. "Do you have nothing to say for yourself?"
Aegon met the King's gaze and deliberately said nothing.
For the first time, real anger broke through as the King all but snarled at him. "You would defy me even now?" Jaehaerys demanded. "You would stand there, mute, after what you've done?"
Aegon held his silence.
As far as he was considered, he had done nothing wrong but stand by his principles and values. And as far as the King was considered, he had brought shame to House Targaryen's name. And nothing anyone said would ever change either of their minds.
Jaehaerys stared at him, breathing harder than before. "I should strip you of your name," he said, voice low, dangerous. "Cast you out of our house. Of Westeros. Let the world see what becomes of ungrateful sons."
Baelon finally stood from his chair. "That would be too far, father" he said quietly.
Jaehaerys's gaze snapped to him. "Too far?" he echoed. "He has disgraced us before the entire realm. Why would anyone ever respect House Targaryen if we cannot even keep our word?"
Then you shouldn't have given your word regarding my marriage.
"He is still your blood," Baelon replied. "Punish him… but not like that."
A tense pause followed.
Then Jaehaerys let out a sharp breath, dragging a hand down his face before turning slightly away. "Very well, son." he said. "What would you have me do with him? Speak. Not as the boy's father but as the heir to the Iron Throne."
Baelon hesitated for a moment, then spoke up. "Send him to Dragonstone," he said. "Confine him there. Let him cool his head for a few years."
Jaehaerys considered it. For a moment, it almost seemed enough. But then his expression hardened again. "No," he said and then stood, slowly. "If he wishes to cast aside his duties," Jaehaerys said, turning his gaze back to Aegon, "if he believes he can survive without his family, then we shall see how well he fares."
Despite all his mental preparations, Aegon felt his fists clench in apprehension as he waited for the verdict.
"You will be exiled," Jaehaerys declared. "Seven years. You will leave Westeros—and you will receive no gold, no support, no guards, nothing beyond what you can earn for yourself."
Baelon stepped forward. "Father—"
"I am not finished." The room fell still again. "You wished for freedom," Jaehaerys said, his gaze locking onto Aegon's. "Now you will have it. You will live as you claim you desire. Without House Targaryen's protection or privilege."
Baelon's jaw tightened. "Father. He is just a boy."
"He is a disgrace," Jaehaerys replied flatly. "And I've had enough of those in this family."
Aegon took a breath and felt as his surroundings suddenly became all to clear to him. He could see the uncomfortable movements of the Kingsguard out of the corner of his eyes. Feel the fabric of his clothes, the warmth of his doublet.
At the same time, he also felt detached. As if he was watching things from a third person's perspective. As if he was not himself.
Slowly, he got up from his chair, and spoke up. "When do I have to leave?"
"As quickly as possible," Jaehaerys replied without even looking at him.
He took a deep breath and the exhaled. 'Seven years. Seven years of no court, no expectations, no one deciding my life for me. Maybe… this is not a punishment but a blessing in disguise.'
He inclined his head. "As you command, Your Grace." With that, he turned and left.