Daemon set Baelon gently back on the bed.
“I understand what you want. I’ll wait for your word.”
As Daemon stood to leave, Baelon caught his arm.
“Uncle, when the time comes, make sure you find some unrelated men to see Otto off on the road after he’s dismissed.”
Daemon left Baelon’s room with a wide smile on his face.
He already knew Otto Hightower’s days were numbered.
Recalling Baelon’s final words, Daemon thought to himself, Looks like this boy’s coin has landed on the mad side.
While Daemon and Baelon were speaking in secret, the Small Council was also in session.
Viserys announced his decision in front of everyone: he was naming Rhaenyra as his heir and ordered ravens sent at once to summon the lords of the realm to King’s Landing to swear fealty.
The Small Council fell into stunned silence.
Otto Hightower was the first to rise.
He cited King Jaehaerys’s ruling in the ninety-second year After Conquest and the precedent of the Great Council of 101, arguing against the king’s choice.
Once one voice had spoken, the other councilors—except for the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard—quickly joined in, trying to persuade Viserys.
In the end, Otto met Viserys’s frustrated stare and summed it up.
“Your Grace, across all Seven Kingdoms, male heirs take precedence. The royal family should follow the same custom.”
“You now have two sons. Their claims come before Rhaenyra’s.”
“This isn’t only to please the lords of the realm. It’s to protect the stability of the crown itself.”
Viserys was a gentle man by nature, easily swayed and eager to please, but this time he held his ground.
After a long moment of thought, he looked around the table.
“Rhaenyra is my eldest daughter. She has the right.”
Then he shifted, offering a compromise.
“But Otto makes a fair point. So if my eldest son recovers his health later, I am willing to change the succession. That is my final decision.”
Otto tried to speak again, no doubt ready to remind Viserys of his other son, but he met Viserys’s eyes burning with sudden anger.
“Otto, let me remind you of one thing. I am the king. I have the right to choose my own heir.”
What he did not say aloud was that he feared naming Aegon as heir would destroy any chance his eldest son ever had of standing on his own two feet.
He loved his eldest boy with all his heart.
He still loved his dead wife.
He would not let things come to that.
He would not.
Naming Rhaenyra at least meant she and Baelon shared the same mother.
At least his eldest son could go on living in peace.
Faced with a king who had never been this unyielding, Otto backed down.
He lowered his head respectfully.
“As you command, Your Grace.”
But from an angle no one else could see, a cold glint flashed in his eyes—raw ambition for power and for his family’s future.
Back in Baelon’s chambers, after Daemon had gone, Baelon called Rhaenyra over.
“Sister, there’s one more thing you need to prepare.”
Rhaenyra was still riding high on excitement, already imagining Otto being thrown out of King’s Landing.
“Tell me, little brother. I’ll go do it right now.”
“Go find a poison strong enough to kill. At the right moment, put it in your own food.”
Rhaenyra froze.
Baelon hurried on before she could object.
“This has to happen at the same time as the attempt on my life. You pretend it was an accident. Eat later than usual, so the maid who tastes your food dies first.”
“That way, even if Otto has a thousand excuses and all the evidence in the world, Father will never forgive him.”
Rhaenyra hesitated.
“The attack on you should be enough, shouldn’t it? Myranda is just a poor girl. She shouldn’t have to die for no reason.”
Baelon looked at his sister with weary patience and thought, She really has no spine for ruling.
No wonder she ended up the way she did.
But he needed the plan to work, so he spoke gently.
“Sister, Otto has served two kings as Hand. Father relies on him completely. None of us knows what cards he’s still holding.”
“Every extra chance of success we can grab, no matter how small, we have to take. In the game of power, it’s kill or be killed.”
“Look at me, Sister. I lost our mother the day I was born. I can’t even get out of this bed. I was born into this world and I could lose my life at any moment. Is Myranda more pitiable than I am? More pitiable than our mother? More pitiable than you?”
Rhaenyra stared at him, then asked in a small voice, “Can we use a different taster?”
“No. Don’t do anything extra. Don’t let anyone start suspecting you.”
“To achieve something great, you can’t be sentimental. Necessary sacrifices are unavoidable. When the moment comes, even a maid—even anyone—can be sacrificed. Do you understand?”
Rhaenyra clearly didn’t.
She stood there blankly, lost in thought.
Baelon could only pray silently, Please, Sister.
It’s all right if you’re not clever, but at least stay obedient.
After a long silence, Rhaenyra finally seemed to grasp what he wanted.
She nodded slowly.
“I understand. I’ll do it exactly as you said.”
Baelon was about to stress the importance again when a soft knock sounded at the door.
“Sister, remember what I told you. Don’t speak of this to anyone. Don’t do anything unnecessary.”
Before Rhaenyra could answer, Baelon called out, “Come in.”
Cole pushed the door open and stepped inside.
“Your Grace, just as you expected, Otto refused to pay for Ignir’s new shelter.”
“The other two matters are going smoothly. They should be finished in about half a month.”
Baelon motioned for Cole to come closer.
“Take me to Father. The first step of the plan has already succeeded.”
Cole hesitated.
“Your Grace, the king is still angry right now. Should we wait a little longer?”
Rhaenyra asked innocently from the side, “Why is Father angry?”
Baelon was already impatient.
“That’s exactly why we need to go now—while he’s still furious. Hurry, before he calms down.”
Cole didn’t understand, but he obeyed.
He lifted Baelon and carried him quickly toward the king’s chambers, only to be stopped at the door by a Kingsguard.
“Honored Prince, the king is discussing matters of state with the Hand. Please wait a moment.”
Baelon smiled.
“I’ve come about that very matter. Just announce me.”
Given Baelon’s special status, the Kingsguard hesitated only briefly before opening the door.
Viserys and Otto were deep in heated discussion.
Viserys looked up, annoyed.
“What is it?”
“Your Grace, Prince Baelon is here to see you.”
At the mention of his son’s name, Viserys’s expression softened.
“Let him in. From now on, don’t stop him when he comes.”
The guard bowed and stepped aside, allowing Cole to carry Baelon into the room.
Before Viserys could ask why he had come, Baelon spoke first.
“Father, since Hand Otto is here, I wanted to ask about Ignir’s new home.”
Otto inclined his head respectfully.
“Your Grace, the king and I were just discussing this. Dragons belong in the Dragonpit, not in a courtyard.”
“Building a house for one inside the Red Keep is an unnecessary expense.”
A look of clear disappointment and hurt appeared on Baelon’s face.
He turned pitiful eyes toward his father.
Viserys met his son’s gaze and was about to speak when Baelon beat him to it.
“Father, don’t trouble yourself. Just do what Hand Otto says.”