Larys had never imagined that scene.
Him tapping his cane and making the Seven Kingdoms tremble?
That would take the Hand of the King at the very least.
He had half regretted coming.
Now he felt the trip had been anything but rash.
Aegon had given him no real power yet, but he had given him a promise.
If Aegon took the throne, Larys might well become Hand.
He followed Aegon out of the sept.
A crowd had already gathered around Sunfyre.
The dragon stood tall, basking in the admiring stares.
He was still a young male, and he liked showing off his size and strength.
“Look, it’s Prince Aegon!
Prince Aegon is here!”
Someone shouted, and every head turned.
“Your Grace, is it true you used the king’s reward to build seven homes for orphans and the elderly?”
An old man shuffled forward, a cluster of orphans and elders behind him.
They looked like they came from Flea Bottom.
King’s Landing already had homes for the old and orphaned, but the ones in Flea Bottom were grim places.
Aegon and the old man exchanged a glance so quick no one noticed, then looked away.
“To be precise, seven orphanages and one home for the elderly.”
Aegon paused, then went on.
“His Grace has never forgotten the poor orphans and the elders with no one to care for them.
But His Grace is busy.
He bears the weight of the realm.
And Princess Rhaenyra has withdrawn to Dragonstone because of certain rumors.
As the eldest son, as my father’s son, I believe it is my duty to take up this burden.
I will answer for His Grace’s people.
Trust me.
I will change Flea Bottom.
You will no longer have to call yourselves fleas or beggars.
You live in the light of the Seven.
Even if you are stuck in the mud for now, I know your souls are pure.
Give me time.
Whatever your station, if your soul is pure, I will see that you eat, dress warmly, and sleep under stone.”
Aegon stood only five foot three, but his steady face and ringing words won cheers from the orphans and elders.
Anyone with eyes could see that Aegon was far more fit to be heir than his reckless, unreliable sister.
The poor and the common folk wanted food, warmth, and stone roofs.
The merchants and nobles wanted a prosperous, wealthy realm.
So even though Aegon had shown only a sliver of the future he planned, it was enough to stir them all.
“Prince Aegon!”
“Prince Aegon!”
“Prince Aegon!”
Led by the old man, the crowd took up the chant.
Soon newcomers who had no idea what was happening joined in for the fun of it.
Sunfyre reared up and roared.
Before the Dragonpit and the sept, the chant of “Prince Aegon” rose with the dragon’s cry, loud enough to crack the clouds.
Aegon’s eyes gleamed.
He did not stop them.
He waited a long while, then raised a hand to quiet the crowd.
“His Grace bears the weight of the realm, and I must learn from him.
I cannot be idle.
I must go.
Trust me.
I will carry this duty, and I will see it done.”
With that, Aegon climbed onto Sunfyre amid his guards and the crowd, and left the square before the sept.
At the same moment, inside the Red Keep, Viserys had just poured himself a cup of wine when his nose prickled and he let out a violent sneeze.
He rubbed his nose, drained the golden wine in one gulp, and happily returned to assembling his Valyrian Freehold model.
“Your Grace?”
Viserys had left the door open.
Grand Maester Mellos stood at the threshold.
“Come in.
What is it?”
Viserys carefully set a tower piece into place.
“A letter from Dragonstone.” Mellos held it out.
Viserys’s face darkened, but he took the letter and read.
The more he read, the deeper his frown.
When he finished, he kicked the table.
“Beast!”
He had done so much for Rhaenyra.
He had defied the precedent of the Great Council of 101 AC, stripped Aegon of his birthright, and named her heir.
And what had he gotten for it?
Laenor was still alive!
And Rhaenyra had gone and tangled herself with Daemon again.
If Corlys and his wife learned of this, did she not fear losing House Velaryon’s support?
“Your Grace, mind your health.
You might send Prince Daemon back to fight in the Stepstones.”
Mellos first urged Viserys to look after himself, then offered his counsel.
Since Daemon had abandoned the Stepstones in 115 AC, the islands had fallen into chaos.
Two men in a row had crowned themselves the new King of the Narrow Sea and the Stepstones.
Neither reign lasted.
Whoever claimed the crown was crushed by pirates, Dorne, and the Triarchy together.
Braavos, Pentos, and Volantis were likely mixed in among the many factions as well.
But through it all, House Velaryon had suffered most.
After Daemon left, House Velaryon lost ground battle after battle, until they held only a few small islands and barely kept their trade routes open.
“Send my command.
Daemon is to go to Driftmark and aid House Velaryon against the Stepstones pirates.
He is not to withdraw without my order.”
“Understood.” Mellos nodded and left.
Viserys slumped into his chair, his face full of disappointment.
He had known Rhaenyra would face fierce opposition from outside.
He had never imagined she would create more for herself.
Viserys knew his own body.
He would never live as long as Jaehaerys I.
If he was gone one day, he was not sure Rhaenyra could defeat Aegon.
In truth, he thought her odds were close to zero.
As for Aegon’s claim that he would not seek the throne, Viserys believed it.
But he believed even more that Otto and Alicent would drag Aegon onto it whether he willed it or not.
He took a sip of golden wine, then suddenly sat up straight.
Perhaps there was a way to stop the growing conflict, even to prevent a future civil war.
But he would need to speak with Alicent.
And Corlys.
Alicent had once proposed marrying Rhaenyra to Aegon.
He had refused her then, saying, “You only want my throne.”
Viserys regretted it deeply.
If he had known things would come to this, he would never have refused her.
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