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    Summary

    “What is his name?” Viserys looks up at Laenor, and he looks at Rhaenyra. She did the hard part. It is only fair that she gets to pick his name. He’ll get his Joffrey, but it won’t be today, and that’s just fine.

    “Jacaerys,” She says tiredly. They will need to leave soon, he thinks. She needs to rest.

    “A Velaryon name?” His father grins, puffing out his chest. As if he would have accepted anything else, but whatever.

    “A Velaryon king he’ll be, just as much as a Targaryen one.” Rhaenyra replies. “The realm will hear both houses when his name is called.”

    Way to stroke his fucking ego. Laenor can practically see the stretch of his father's skin as his head grows bigger.

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