The door groaned as it opened and closed behind him.
Helaena and Alicent turned quickly, their postures rigid with fear; they had spent hours dreading that a looter or a desperate guard might use the chaotic collapse of Rhaenyra’s reign to break into their chambers to rob or assault them.
But when Alicent saw who had crossed the threshold, the breath left her lungs.
It was her son, or what remained of him.
He stood before her travel-worn and severely scarred, yet the Valyrian steel crown of the Conqueror still sat firmly upon his head.
The proud Dowager Queen forgot all royal decorum.
She rose from her seat and ran across the chamber, pulling him into a fierce, desperate embrace and burying her face against his shoulder.
“My boy… my brave, beautiful boy,” Alicent wept, her voice trembling with a mixture of grief and fierce pride.
“The ravens lied. They told me you were a corpse in the dirt while the Queen of bastards defiled your father’s seat. But the Mother has answered my prayers. You have returned to us, Aegon.”
“Mother,” Aegon said as he wrapped his arms around her.
“How I have missed you. To see you safe and sound is a reward the Seven have blessed me with at the end of this path. Daeron and Aemond are outside the door. See to them; they suffered much and missed you. I wish to speak to my wife.”
Alicent wiped her tears as she looked at Aegon, then at Helaena, before nodding and leaving the room.
Aegon didn’t say anything and didn’t look her in the eyes, as he feared she might see him for what he truly is, a thieving ghost in a stolen skin suit.
Making his way through the room with his head lowered, he walked until he stood before her as he was. Follow the newest chapters on g.com.
“Sister,” Aegon said finally, after a long silence.
“Brother,” Helaena said with a small smile.
“Is something the matter? You enter my chambers like a thief in the night.”
“No,” Aegon replied.
“It’s just… I’ve missed you so much,” he said as he embraced her, burying his face in her neck.
“Your path must have been hard and filled with hardships, Aegon,” she said as she held him.
“Come, rest on my bed.”
“Yes,” Aegon could only say.
She sat on the bed while Aegon laid his head on her lap, and she began gently stroking his burnt hair.
While Aegon was having his moment, the Red Keep and King’s Landing were in chaos.
All lords and ladies were confined to their chambers, and all Small Council members, including Mysaria, the White Worm, were rounded up and thrown into the dungeons.
The sole exception was Lord Corlys Velaryon, whose whereabouts remained unknown as he was still being actively hunted down across the city.
On a small fishing boat, one of many that were able to easily slip past Ulf undetected, Lord Corlys looked out at the waves as his only remaining son rowed, heading toward Driftmark.
“My lord, all hope is not lost. Addam will be avenged,” Alyn declared fiercely.
“We will take our fleet, join Daemon and our remaining strength, and avenge the Queen and Addam.”
Alyn’s fierce words woke the old Sea Snake from his daze as he looked out at the sea. Read this novel at g.com for the best experience.
Driftmark and Spicetown had been sacked and burned by the Triarchy.
His son, his heir, and the dragonrider of House Velaryon had been executed right in front of his eyes.
His fleet was all he had left, and dragons could hastily cross the water to put them to fire.
All his life’s work lay in ruins before his eyes.
He had lifted his house to its greatest power, wealth, and glory in his younger years, and now, in his twilight years, it all lay in ruins.
He remembered his wife’s words, and he knew he should have listened to her.
“No, I am the Lord of House Velaryon, not you, not yet,” Corlys said with resolve.
“We return to Driftmark and wait for the King’s ravens.”
“The King?” Alyn questioned.
“He is an usurper and a kinslayer. He will put us all to the sword. We blockaded King’s Landing for months, will he forgive that slight?”
“We were at war,” Corlys replied.
“We had sworn to Rhaenyra, and we did as our oaths compelled us to, just as any lord would. Besides, we are the blood of Old Valyria. Our family name carries weight, not to mention our fleet. Aegon will never ignore that unless he is a fool or a madman. His host is in tatters; he has no choice but to sue for peace. Dragons or not, armies hold castles and lands, not dragons.”