Half a month had passed since Laena’s funeral.
With Rhaenyra confined to Dragonstone, Alicent seized every chance to erode the blacks’ influence at court.
And after Vhagar, Dreamfyre, and Tessarion had circled King’s Landing three times, many wavering lords began choosing sides.
Plenty switched straight to the greens.
Rhaenys’s Hill, above the Dragonpit, the Great Sept.
“Do kinslayers truly meet a bad end?” Aegon knelt before the statues, asking in his heart.
He knew the Seven would not answer.
And he did not need their answer.
If Aegon truly wanted a god’s reply, he would not have come to the Seven.
Everyone knew that in the world of the Song of Ice and Fire, the only god who got things done was R’hllor, the Lord of Light, the Heart of Flame, the God of Shadow and Fire.
“You seem troubled, my prince.” A voice broke Aegon’s silent prayer.
Aegon had sensed the man beside him long ago.
He simply had not bothered to acknowledge him.
“Larys.
I never expected to find you here.
What a surprise.
You have time for the Great Sept, instead of shut in your room studying how to climb the ladder.”
The words clearly caught Larys off guard.
But he steadied himself quickly and smiled.
“Power is a fine thing.
If I were heir to Harrenhal, perhaps no one would mock my clubfoot.”
“Heh.”
Aegon gave a soft laugh.
He rose and walked toward the door, speaking as he went.
“And what if you were heir to Harrenhal?
If I chose to call you a cripple, what could you do?
Have your little rats assassinate me?”
Larys felt his stomach drop.
He had expected Aegon to be difficult.
He had not expected this.
From words alone, he judged Aegon a hundred times more dangerous than Alicent.
“My prince, please believe me, I meant nothing of the sort.”
Larys hurried to add.
“In truth, I have watched you for a long time.
Do you remember the feast in 111 AC, celebrating the fifth anniversary of His Grace’s marriage to the queen?”
Aegon’s eyes narrowed.
He stopped in the corridor and looked Larys up and down.
“I remember that feast perfectly.
I gave my father a brilliant black gemstone.
He loved it.
He keeps it safe to this day.”
Larys nodded with studied significance, deliberately mysterious.
“Yes.
I am certain His Grace loved it.
But at that feast, I discovered something far more brilliant than the gemstone.”
“Something more brilliant?” Aegon looked at Larys with a faint, unreadable smile.
Larys believed he had seized control of the exchange.
He opened his mouth to continue.
Aegon’s smile vanished.
“Are you saying my gift was poor?” His voice went cold.
“Hugh.
Snap his neck and feed him to the dogs.”
The color drained from Larys’s face.
“Wait.
Wait.
You misunderstand, my prince.
I meant your brilliance of mind.”
At those words, Aegon raised his right hand slightly.
Hugh pulled back his arm mid-reach.
“You mean my brilliance of mind?”
Aegon seemed to think of something.
He studied Larys with fresh interest.
Larys drew a deep breath and lowered his head.
“Yes, your brilliance of mind.
Princess Rhaenyra is so much older than you, and yet…”
“Ah.
I see.” Aegon snorted.
He understood now what Larys wanted.
If he had to guess, Larys had witnessed how Aegon had humiliated Rhaenyra that year.
And now that Aegon clearly led the greens, Larys had decided to present his talents for intelligence before him.
After all, for a second son with no inheritance like Larys, the earlier he attached himself to Aegon, the better his chance to seize a place on the small council when Aegon took the throne.
He had no inheritance.
Everything had to be won by his own hand.
In Larys’s view, war between greens and blacks was certain.
Once civil war began, the Seven Kingdoms would fall into chaos.
And chaos meant opportunity.
“My prince, talk of His Grace reconsidering the succession spreads through the Seven Kingdoms.
I believe the king has seen your perfection.
But you must not relax.
Princess Rhaenyra may be confined to Dragonstone, but voices at court still support her.”
“So?” Aegon smiled again.
“I can investigate those voices for you.
I can watch them for you.” Larys spoke with full confidence.
Aegon laughed.
“You are a cripple.
How can you help me?
Creep after Lord Lyman Beesbury on your cane? The source of this chapter is g.com.
Please.
The old man will be stealing your cane from you in a few years.”
“You are right, my prince.
I am a cripple.
I cannot watch anyone myself.
But I have many eyes, and my mind is sharp.”
Larys lowered himself further, even calling himself a cripple.
Aegon’s gaze fell on the book in Larys’s hand.
He reached out and took it.
“The Edge of the World.
Maester Baldric’s work, five hundred years ago.
You enjoy reading?” Aegon flipped through the pages.
“Yes.
I enjoy reading very much.
My body cannot give me sufficient strength.
I must arm myself with knowledge.
I have always believed that knowledge is power.”
Aegon looked up at Larys with a half-smile.
He gave a sudden order.
“Hugh.
Cut his throat.”
Larys froze.
He had clearly not expected Aegon to turn so fast.
In that frozen instant, Hugh stepped forward and seized the back of Larys’s head like a chicken.
He drew the dagger from his belt and prepared to strike.
“Stop.
I have changed my mind.
Release him.”
Aegon gave the order.
Hugh let go at once.
Larys stared at Aegon, face white, hands trembling.
“Power is power.” Aegon stepped before Larys and spoke the words lightly.
Larys swallowed.
Aegon suddenly laughed.
“A joke.
You are not angry, are you, Larys?”
Larys forced a smile and shook his head.
“Of course not.
It is an honor that you would joke with me.”
Aegon clapped him on the shoulder with a smile.
“Since you have chosen your side, spend less effort flattering me and more effort stealing useful information.
You may be a cripple.
But who knows?
One day, you might tap your cane and make the Seven Kingdoms tremble.”
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