To celebrate the renewed union of Houses Targaryen and Velaryon, the wedding of Rhaenyra and Laenor was nothing short of magnificent.
Beyond the guests the king had invited, one uninvited arrival made an appearance.
Daemon Targaryen.
Viserys did not know what Daemon intended, but he was generous enough to have the servants set a place for him.
The music wound long and slow.
Guests ate, drank, and shouted for the bride and groom to dance.
Aegon sat on a cushioned chair, his eyes locked on Criston Cole and Laenor’s favorite, Joffrey Lonmouth.
If he remembered right, Joffrey would soon approach Criston to settle his nerves.
And then Criston would beat him to death on the spot.
It was hard to judge.
Perhaps Joffrey saw Criston as a fellow lowborn knight who had climbed from nothing.
That would explain why he sought him out.
But Joffrey never imagined that Criston was nothing like him.
To Criston, the white cloak was his highest honor.
He had broken his vows for Rhaenyra, and she had refused to run away with him.
It made him feel like a fool.
A cheap whore who had thrown away his oath.
Of course, it might not happen at all.
The original histories gave two accounts.
In one, Criston fought for the queen’s party in the tourney and wounded Joffrey so badly he died six days later in bed.
In the other, Criston killed Joffrey right there at the feast.
The version Aegon was waiting for.
“What are you staring at?
Seen a girl you like?” Alicent asked with a smile.
As she spoke, she peeled a shrimp for Aegon herself.
“If it were possible, I’d want Laena.
“Corlys would never agree.
She rides Vhagar.
The strongest dragon alive.”
“I know.” Aegon nodded, his gaze still fixed on Joffrey in the crowd.
Alicent followed his eyes, found Joffrey, and frowned.
“Aegon, what do you think of Helaena?” she asked suddenly.
Aegon’s brow creased.
Alicent seemed tense, but the feast was proceeding smoothly.
What was there to be tense about?
“Helaena’s wonderful.
I’m very fond of her.
Much more obedient than Aemond.”
Aemond: “???”
Aemond looked up from his shrimp, confused.
He thought he heard his name.
Or maybe not.
Helaena, nibbling her shrimp in small bites, lifted her head and said softly, “Dreamfyre is strong too.”
“Of course.
No one’s stupid enough to question Dreamfyre’s power.”
Helaena pressed her lips together and went back to her shrimp.
Alicent let out a quiet breath.
Good.
At least Aegon wasn’t interested in men.
“Which lord’s daughter do you think would suit you?” Alicent pressed on.
“Does House Tyrell have any suitable girls?” Aegon thought for a moment and asked.
“House Tyrell would be an excellent choice.” Alicent nodded with clear approval. New chapters come out on g.com first.
House Tyrell of Highgarden was one of the great houses of the Seven Kingdoms.
They ruled the Reach from their ancestral seat.
The Tyrells were vast and wealthy.
Their riches were second only to House Lannister, but they could muster a far greater military force.
And if the Tyrells called upon their bannermen House Redwyne and the fleets of the Shield Islands, combined with the navies of other coastal houses sworn to them, the Tyrells could field a sea power equal to the royal fleet.
They might even hold their own against House Velaryon.
Now that Rhaenyra was bound to the Velaryons, if Aegon could marry a Tyrell girl and bind himself to Highgarden, it would be a very wise move.
“I’ll write to your grandfather after the feast.
Have him go to Highgarden himself and find you a good match.”
Aegon nodded.
No objection.
His future queen was a massive political asset.
Interest came first.
Affection could follow.
The same went for Aemond and Daeron’s future wives.
Valuable political currency in their own right.
As for Helaena, that would be her choice.
She was a dreamer, after all.
She had the gift of prophecy.
In the center of the dance floor, Joffrey seemed to tire.
He looked for a place to rest and, by pure chance, drifted near Criston.
Aegon straightened slightly in his chair.
His eyes widened.
The show was starting.