Alicent stood on the deck of the royal galley, her gaze fixed absently on the churning waters below.
In the distance, the silvery towers of High Tide were growing smaller with each passing moment, shrinking into the horizon as the ship carried her back toward King’s Landing.
The sight was comforting in its finality.
After everything that had transpired on that accursed island, she was eager to leave it behind and never return.
But the shadow that followed their ship served as a dark reminder of the tragedy that had unfolded in Lord Corlys’s hall.
Alicent had watched her take off from the cliffside, those massive leathern wings creating a riptide as she flew over the water.
Even at a distance, Vhagar looked monstrous.
With ragged scales and a drooping neck, she appeared like a green behemoth, large enough to swallow a leviathan in a few bites.
The sight of her filled Alicent with both awe and dread.
Ours now.
The most powerful and fearsome beast alive, bound to her son’s will.
The thought was enough to make Alicent want to retch.
What good was a dragon when her son had to lose a limb for it?
Rage overcame her then, and she squeezed the railing with a vengeance, her knuckles going white from the pressure.
I wanted to kill her.
I should have killed her.
Again, Rhaenyra had gotten her way, broken the laws of gods and men, and escaped justice.
It was not fair.
Once, Alicent perhaps could have tolerated that.
She had spent years stewing in resentment over all that was afforded Rhaenyra, the privileges and protections that seemed to flow to her like water.
But as much of an affront as it was to her, the blow only bruised.
It had never slashed deep enough to draw blood.
Until now.
You shall not have my children.
Motherhood may not have come easy to her at first.
The early years had been difficult, filled with doubt and exhaustion and the crushing weight of responsibility.
But she had grown to cherish it, to treasure the love of her children above all else.
It was all she had in her misery, babes who loved her and would champion her even when no one else would.
Alicent would sooner burn the entire world than let anyone harm them.
She had told Aemond as much after they had retreated to their chambers for the night.
The Maester had doused the stitched flesh in potion to stop corruption and bandaged half his head with cloth to help it heal.
Alicent had been hesitant to let him give Aemond more milk of the poppy, but the man had insisted.
The pain would drive him mad otherwise, he had warned.
“I am sorry.” She had knelt at the foot of his bed after the Maester left.
He lay tucked under his covers, as still as a frightened fowl, his small body seeming even smaller beneath the heavy blankets.
“I have failed you.
It was my duty to protect you, and I…
I…”
The sorrow poured out of her like water breaking through a river dam.
She dropped her head, tears streaming down her cheeks in an unending flood.
His voice bid her raise it up again.
“You did not fail me,” he mumbled into his chin.
The potion had made him stare blankly ahead, as if no thoughts were drifting about his head.
“It was the opposite.
You warned me.
It is not your fault I did not listen.”
Disdain overflowed in those words, and Alicent immediately seized his hand.
“You are just a boy, Aemond.
It is in your nature not to heed your mother’s warnings.
I should have recognized it.
Fought harder to correct it.”
“It is good that you did not.” Alicent furrowed her brows at his scowl.
“I had to lose an eye to see it.
But I do.
I see everything so clearly now.
And they are even worse than you said.”
She gritted her teeth.
In spite of the heavy turmoil, she found it in herself to feel relieved.
Finally, he had learned the truth of things.
Finally, he understood the danger that surrounded them.
“Never again.” Her hand squeezed his with fierce determination.
I will never again allow them to hurt you.”
“They cannot, even if they wanted to.” His lips quirked into a smirk.
Beneath the haze of potion, she glimpsed the faint glow of dragonfire in his remaining eye.
“I have Vhagar now, the largest beast in the world.
If they try to hurt us, they shall be answered with fire and blood.”
The fierceness of his proclamation was something to behold.
It left Alicent breathless, frightened of the power he had garnered for himself.
Dejected as she was about him claiming a dragon, she could not help but be proud of him then.
Her own father shared her sentiment.
He had come to visit her on the morrow as their attendants readied the king for their departure.
“What that rogue Aemond has done in winning Vhagar to our side,” Otto Hightower had declared, his voice full of approval.
“The boy was right.
It is worth a thousand times the price he paid.”
Alicent gaped at him, at the cocksure way his lips curved into a half smile.
The years had not touched him much, save for the few faint lines around his eyes and the strands of grey peppering his brown hair.
Otto Hightower stood as proud and determined as he had always been.
Ready for battle.
Drawing closer, he seized her hands into his.
His eyes lingered on her untouched nails, and elation filled Alicent when she glimpsed pride on his face.
“You know what must be done.
As do I.” He paused, his grip tightening.
“I had feared that these years apart would have weakened you.
Caused you to stray.
It pleases me to know I was wrong.”
His hand squeezed hers, the grip full of determination.
“You and I stand on equal footing now.
Allies in the same battle.”
She regarded his face for the longest time, searching for any hint of doubt or hesitation.
Finding none, she at last spoke.
“I have missed you,” her voice shattered with the weight of the admission.
Without hesitation, he pulled her into a quick embrace.
The warmth and earnestness of it made her heart soar.
He had only ever held her like that once, on the day her mother had passed.
He loves me.
For years, she had faulted him for his ambition, for implanting the seed of fear in her heart about Rhaenyra’s intentions.
How foolish she had been.
As in all the times before, her father was only speaking the truth in the hopes of protecting her.
With him at my side, we will prevail.
Rhaenyra had had him dismissed once, along with every other leal friend Alicent had managed to win to her side.
She refused to let that happen again.
She refused to let her have anything ever again.
Exhaling a laboring breath, she watched Vhagar pass above their ship, her wings beating fierce gusts of wind into her face.
The ship swayed at the force of the disturbance, and Alicent had to clutch the railing to steady herself.
As the dragon’s shadow left their ship, another came to blanket the queen.
“A perversion of justice.” Lord Larys tapped his cane against the wood and came to lean against the rail beside her.
“The young prince…
defiled.
An outrage.”
She cast a weary look at him.
A sweet smile curled his thin lips, and he held her gaze with rapt fascination.
His clubfoot drooped to the side, the steel boot so close it almost touched the hem of her dress.
“Indeed,” she offered, trying to keep herself composed.
A part of her hoped her dismissiveness would bid him leave.
Instead, he leaned in, his voice a hoarse whisper.
“If it is an eye you want, to balance the scales, I am your servant.”
Gooseflesh slid down the length of her back, and her hands ached to rip open her nailbeds.
“That will not be necessary, Lord Larys,” she fired swiftly.
He stood eyeing her, his smile never once leaving his lips.
Sweet, unassuming, innocent. This chapter was copied from novelping.com without permission.
Just like the rest of him.
The heaviness in the queen’s belly lurched up into her throat.
There was nothing innocent about this man.
She had come to learn that recently, in the most vile way possible.
She had always thought him odd.
A derided outcast, Lord Lyonel’s younger son had been but a fly buzzing about the Keep.
A nuisance to be sure, but ultimately harmless.
Granted, the attention he insisted on lavishing upon Alicent was tiresome.
She had had enough useless fools fawning over her to suffer another.
Yet time and time again, he proved to be of more worth than the other lickspittles.
Unassuming as he was, he was able to move about the world unnoticed and gather all manner of secrets that proved useful.
Just like a little fly on the wall.
Alicent did not enjoy having to rely on him for assistance.
Sourcing court gossip was crass and beneath someone of her station.
But she had been alone these last ten years, friendless.
She needed every last bit of help she could muster.
There was no harm to it, she would reason.
It was just simple whispers.
And Lord Larys never asked anything in exchange for them, save for the pleasure of her company.
But then those whispers summoned the Stranger.
She still remembered it.
The sweet, gentle way he had looked at her as he confessed to setting the fire at Harrenhal.
The same fire that took both his father and brother.
“A Queen makes a wish,” he had told her, his voice as thick as honey.
“What servant of the realm would not oblige?”
The words had almost made her collapse, so sick with terror.
No man is as accursed as a kinslayer.
She would not have anything to do with him.
Whenever he sought her company in the Keep, she denied him.
Every look he threw her way, she ignored.
She may have entertained the little whispers he brought her, but she would not accept murder.
Her cause was meant to be just, to uphold the laws and traditions the gods themselves passed on to their children.
How could she claim to be a champion of justice if she allowed murder to go unpunished?
And yet you wished the same fate on Rhaenyra.
She had rushed her with the Valyrian blade, her body yearning for blood.
The insult was too much to bear.
Her son had been permanently maimed, robbed of a limb, and all her lord husband could think of in that moment was his darling girl and the legitimacy of her whelps.
She seeks to destroy me, and in place of stopping her, he guides the blade.
“Now they see you as you are,” Rhaenyra had whispered to her, her eyes a roaring purple.
The words had enraged her.
Alicent had been the one to say them to her when she had laid her treachery bare.
She had no right to repeat them back.
What I am doing is just.
It is good.
It did not matter if she resorted to blood and death to achieve it.
After all, it was an ugly game, and Rhaenyra had proven she would not grant her any mercy.
She needed to return her blows in kind.
Blinking, she cast a look at the clubfoot.
“But rest assured, your devotion has not gone unnoticed.” Alicent paused, weighing her next words carefully.
“And I may have need of your friendship in the coming times.”
The man’s soft eyes glittered with a thin film of satisfaction.
The gaze bid sickness rise in her stomach.
“I am at your service, my Queen.”
The smell of seawater bathed Alicent in waves.
She shivered at the chill.
Still, the cold pinching her skin could not compare to the dread pooling in her heart.
The gods will forgive me.
They must.
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