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Chapter Text

He watched in boredom as Orwyle counted the gold coins in the small leather pouch. The man wasn't greedy, at least not like most of the men who lived within the walls of the Red Keep, but he was a needy man who kept a dirty secret.

“It's enough for your lover and son to get a decent house?”

“It is, my lord.” Orwyle closed the bag and looked Jason in the eye.

He would let it go because the maester would be useful to him for a while.

“I'll do what we agreed on.”

“Make sure no one gets suspicious, especially Mellos. I don't need him shouting his suspicions to Otto Hightower.”

"Don't worry, my lord. I know how to handle the Grand Master. And I know my herbs. He'll never suspect that the new queen's pains are caused by anything other than birth defects."

The new queen. Alicent Hightower.

Jason would never forget the storm of curses his mother screamed when the king announced to the Court that he would take the Hand's daughter as his second wife.

Cousin Aemma had been dead for two moons, but there was the king, disrespecting mourning because he had fallen prey to the intrigues of his most loyal servant.

If you wanted cunt so much, you should have asked for whores, there's a street full of them in the city!

Why reward that maid with a crown? How dare you replace my niece with that Hightower whore.

"For the good of the kingdom," she said to Rhaenyra! "The kingdom wants a real queen, not a self-righteous little girl!"

They had been some of her mother's least offensive comments.

Viserra Targaryen was furious with the king and ashamed to share his name and blood.

“Alicent Hightower must not have children, and if any are born, they must be harmless.”

He couldn't risk the traitor expelling children who would become threats to his princess. Rhaenyra had always wanted siblings, but the children of the friend who betrayed her were unlikely to be.

Besides, Jason wasn't going to allow Rhaenyra's inheritance to be called into question. The Iron Throne belonged to her and her future children.

Only Jason's future wife and children would sit in that damn chair, he would make sure of it.

"And the proper greeting, Lady Lannister?" Otto Hightower's exasperated voice rose, seeking to be heard throughout the Great Hall.

The last banquet of the wedding week was taking place, his mother had missed the wedding and all the celebration up to this point to make clear her dissatisfaction with the king's new union.

It was utterly disrespectful, but she wouldn't be reprimanded. The king didn't have the courage to admonish the only aunt he had, aside from Saera Targaryen, who was living her life in Volantis, nor would he risk upsetting her enough to break off the betrothal between Jason and Rhaenyra.

They had been betrothed since childhood by Queen Alysanne herself, who, after the failure of Daemon's marriage to Lady Rhea, decided to keep the Valyrian blood, the Targaryen blood, as united as she could.

"I am a princess of the blood, Ser Otto, and I do not bow to those beneath me. This girl may have a crown and a royal title, but her origins are humble, and her blood leaves much to be desired."

Both the Hand and the girl blushed, but while she tried to make herself smaller in her seat, he stood up indignantly.

“How dare you?!”

“How dare you, a second son who rose to the third most powerful position in the kingdom, continue to parade around like a peacock when your daughter became queen through humiliating means?” Mother said calmly as she sat majestically in her assigned seat at the High Table.

The message was clear.

How dare the Hand of the King seek more power by making his daughter queen?

"You should leave something for the good lords of the Seven Kingdoms, Ser Otto. Don't you think, Your Grace? A man who isn't of royal blood shouldn't have so much power." She raised a wineglass and took a sip. "The Hand of the King and his daughter as queen, what a hog."

Tyland and Rhaenyra hid their smiles behind glasses, but Jason left his on display.

"I've done nothing but serve the kingdom!" Otto Hightower shouted his defense, interrupting the king.

“By letting your daughter prostitute herself to the king? So commendable of you, we should all follow your example, shouldn't we, my lords and ladies?”

The nobles present were plunged into an awkward silence, though a portion of them wore expressions fascinated by the carnage they were witnessing—after all, most were dissatisfied with the new queen. The Hightowers seated at one of the low tables ranged in color from sickly pale to furiously red. Did they really think no one would air their champion's dirty laundry?

“My king! You cannot allow this disrespect! These… these vile accusations against the queen!”

The king looked at his Hand, then at Jason's mother.

“I will speak seriously with Princess Viserra about this, now take a seat, Otto, and let us continue with the banquet.”

Alicent Hightower looked at her new husband with disappointment and betrayal written on her prudish face.

“This is unacceptable, Your Grace! This impunity cannot be tolerated!”

"Do you dare to raise your voice to the king and question his decisions, Ser Otto?" Rhaenyra spoke up. "It seems Princess Viserra is not mistaken; you have grown too comfortable with your power."

Whispers began.

Otto Hightower opened his mouth, surely to yell at Rhaenyra as well, but when he realized the judgmental eyes on him and the image he was giving, he closed it.

“I am a concerned father, my king. I am mortified by so much malice directed at my daughter, who was simply blessed by the Seven and your favor.”

“I understand, Otto, but royal family matters are discussed in private, not in front of all the nobles.”

From the look he directed at Jason's mother, Otto Highthower wondered why the same rebuke wasn't directed at her. Viserra Targaryen smiled at him in return.

And that's how the end of the Hightowers' triumphant celebration was ruined.

Days later, when the Hightower entourage left the capital to return to Oldtown, Otto Hightower went with them.

The king dismissed him from his position as Hand of the King.

Princess Viserra's words that night had their effect; worried whispers about favoritism toward one House quickly flooded the capital, so much so that the king could not ignore them.

His family and the kingdom were unhappy with his choice of new wife, so he had to do damage control.

"Congratulations, stepmother," Rhaenyra, who had gone out of her way to avoid seeing Alicent since her pregnancy was announced, had to stop and speak to her when she found her in the gardens.

"Thank you, Rhaenyra." The girl was pale and weak, but her eyes shone with hope at the sight of Rhaenyra.

Some nobles milling about the garden wasted no time commenting on the queen's lack of courtesy in informally addressing the crown princess, overlooking the fact that the princess herself had also violated protocol. However, it wasn't Rhaenyra's reputation that was in question.

“My best wishes to you and the baby, Your Grace.” Jason respected the title, but didn’t bow.

"That's very kind, Lord Jason." A soft blush appeared on her cheeks.

Jason had always been aware that Alicent Hightower had looked at him with admiration, but he had never cared. She had always been his princess's shy friend; if it hadn't been for that, he wouldn't have even noticed her existence.

“I want to thank you, Rhaenyra.” The wench took a hesitant step toward Rhaenyra, her handmaidens watching her closely, as if afraid she might fall. “You have lightened my load by taking over the duties of queen, because of which I have had more time to focus on my son’s well-being.”

So she thought her reduction in duties was due to the goodwill of Jason's princess?

It couldn't be further from the truth.

Rhaenyra had petitioned the king to grant her command of his House, to let her manage his gold and staff alone because she wouldn't allow herself to be under the yoke of the servant who had so recently dressed her. That would be too humiliating.

The king, ashamed of the position he was placing his daughter in, not only accepted, but gave her command of the entire Red Keep. It was preparation for when she became queen, the king claimed. It spoke volumes about finally coming to his senses that he didn't take kindly to reasons he might otherwise have considered petty.

"I'm just doing my duty, stepmother. We both are, aren't we?" Rhaenyra looked down at her still-unseen belly.

Alicent Hightower shuddered and paled further.

She definitely remembered the argument the two had had after the infamous Council meeting where the king announced he would marry her. Alicent Hightower had shielded herself in her duty as a daughter, but where was her duty as a servant to the crown princess? Her loyalty as a friend?

Prince Aegon Targaryen was stillborn.

He was incinerated by Syrax, a privilege Jason thought was a waste for the Hightower spawn.

The king silently mourned the loss of another son.

Alicent Hightower cried for days.

Alicent Hightower was pregnant again.

Mellos confined her to bed since her condition was discovered, House Hightower sent new midwives and Lady Hightower herself to attend to her.

Oh, how the mighty have fallen.

The strict Lady Hightower, reduced to a nurse for her niece-in-law.

At least now, Jason knew that Otto's ambitious plan wasn't just his, but his entire House's.

They would be treated accordingly.

"Jason, you noisy lion, are you getting desperate?" Mother asked as soon as they were both inside the carriage.

She had been at the Rock with Tyland, overseeing that everything was in order and helping him acclimate himself as the regent of House Lannister. Jason, as the future prince consort, had decided to leave his lordship in the hands of his twin until his heir was born.

Jason had every intention of focusing on his duty as Rhaenyra's husband and Prince Consort of the Seven Kingdoms, so he had no time to waste on his lordship. He had wanted to officially hand everything over to Tyland, but he wasn't interested in being chased by the ladies or fathering children of his own; for some reason, his twin wasn't interested in the pleasures of the flesh or in associating with people beyond the familial or friendly.

But now that preparations for Rhaenyra's coming-of-age ceremony and the subsequent wedding were beginning, Viserra Targaryen was back in the capital to assist her future daughter-in-law in any way she could.

“Mother, it was all calculated,” he definitely didn't complain about his beautiful mother's lack of trust in him.

"So calculated that the harlot keeps searching for her attacker, clamoring for his head?" She raised an imperious eyebrow.

Lady Hightower had a habit of taking nighttime strolls before bed, always accompanied by her maid. The woman was either stupid or overconfident in her status because she never feared being attacked, not until the night Jason decided it was time for House Hightower to pay a little for its out-of-character actions.

And it was entirely Alicent Hightower's fault that she accompanied her despotic aunt on her walk that very night; without guards and, for some reason, without maids. What was Jason going to do? Waste the opportunity?

Under cover of darkness, he waited for the women to pass by a staircase. Lady Hightower broke her neck. Alicent Hightower survived, but lost the baby.

Since regaining consciousness, the girl hadn't stopped screaming that someone had pushed them, that she felt a hand on her back. Lord Hightower wasted no time demanding blood for his wife's murder. The king had no choice but to launch an investigation into the matter, but no satisfactory answers had been obtained.

And they never would.

Jason may have been a bit reckless, but he wasn't an idiot.

He and his men had made sure there were no witnesses.

"She's a hysterical woman, that's how the nobility sees her. Besides, there's no way they'll know it was me or blame our people. Rhaenyra was with the king, and I was with Maester Orwyle because I was feeling sick to my stomach."

“Still, you took too big a risk.” The Princess warned her son.

"I'm always careful, Mother, and I'll be even more so now. I won't endanger my princess or her inheritance."

“I hope so, Jason, because you've stirred up a hornet's nest.”

“It was Otto Hightower who threw the first stone, I'm just responding.”

House Hightower did not attend Rhaenyra's coming-of-age banquet.

Alicent Hightower appeared wearing a mourning gown, grieving her unnamed baby and her aunt.

There was no way for her to know it was Jason who attacked them or to suspect Rhaenyra was involved, but she spent the entire banquet sending dark glances at Jason's princess.

Did she really think Rhaenyra would dare to do so? It was true that his princess resented Alicent as her father's wife and that she wasn't looking forward to her half-siblings either, but she would never dare harm her own blood.

Maybe she was just annoyed that Rhaenyra was happy and enjoying her celebration? Annoyed that the royal family moved on after she lost a prince or princess?

Be that as it may, Alicent Hightower's hopeful, hesitant gaze changed to one filled with hatred.

"What am I seeing, Jay?" His wonderful wife asked in disbelief.

“Stupidity,” he replied.

There was no other way to describe Alicent Hightower's current actions. Showing up dressed in green, and late to the crown princess's wedding, was simply calling for her death.

The king did nothing about it, just continued with his speech after an awkward pause.

Alicent's haughtiness and slightly mad look softened when she saw that she didn't get the desired reaction from the rest of the royal family, as well as from the Lannister's, Velaryon’s, and Arryn’s sitting at the High Table. None of them had risen to greet her; they had simply watched her in silence.

She decided to play.

Okay, then they would play.

Rhaenyra was too busy to bother paying attention to the green whore, so Jason took it upon himself to respond to her declaration of war.

What color was more striking than poisonous green?

Golden.

When Rhaenyra told him she was pregnant, Jason was the happiest man in the world.

He held sumptuous banquets, both for the nobility at the Red Keep and for the city's commoners, to commemorate the conception of his first child. All with Lannister gold.

He had Tyland send his trusted maester to attend to Rhaenyra, even asking Princess Rhaenys to use the Sea Snake's connections to secure the best midwives and healers in Essos.

The princess, who had grown a little less cold upon seeing that Lady Laena was thriving under Rhaenyra's care as a member of the House of the Princess, agreed to Jason's request.

Her mother also invested all her efforts in supporting Rhaenyra, giving her comfort as only a mother could.

Jason became his wife's shadow, determined to keep even the wind from hitting her the wrong way. Rhaenyra found him infuriating, but she didn't reject him.

The entire fortress bent over backwards to cater to the smallest whim of the pregnant Crown Princess.

Alicent Hightower watched from the sidelines, her nose wrinkled as if she were smelling shit and her eyes wide with jealousy. No one had reacted like this to any of her pregnancies. The king seemed more excited about his daughter's pregnancy than he had been about his second wife's.

It was no surprise that when cousin Daemon returned triumphantly from the Stepstones, presenting the driftwood crown to Rhaenyra as a gift for her marriage and unborn child, the whore stepped forward, commanding the attention of the Court to announce that she was pregnant.

"I will soon bless the kingdom with a prince," she smiled, clutching her Seven-Pointed Star necklace. "The king's son will run through these halls and light up everyone with his smile."

A prince. The king's son.

She was so sure she was having a boy.

Male or not, that child would not be a threat to Rhaenyra or their baby.

Jacaerys Targaryen was born completely perfect.

Silver hair, mismatched green and purple eyes, Rhaenyra's nose, and Jason's mouth.

How did something so perfect come from him?

"I was the one who gave birth to him, Jason, I also carried him for nine months," Rhaenyra said with tired amusement, disheveled and sweaty.

She shone like never before.

"I participated in his creation," he said, smiling.

"Barely," she replied. "Now give me my son before the rest of our family shows up and hogs him."

"Once I have him in my arms, I won't let him go," said Jason's mother, who had been by Rhaenyra's side during the birth.

A week old, and Jacaerys had already experienced his first dragon flight.

Two weeks old and he had already sat on the Iron Throne.

“You will be king after your mother.”

Jason watched Alicent pinch her fingers until they bled.

Aemond Targaryen was born small, weak, and sickly.

Alicent spent days on end kneeling in the sept, praying for the survival of her only son.

When Mellos declared him safe, the vixen appeared in court, she and her cub wrapped in green velvet.

Ladies and gentlemen of the Reach began arriving in the capital to join the Queen's Household.

A House only in name because it lacked power.

But, no matter how much Alicent pleaded with the king, he did not give her the duties of queen.

Rhaenyra has been doing a splendid job, both at the keep and in the city. Besides, Alicent had never been trained to manage anything as a queen.

Jacaerys's egg hatched.

Aemond Targaryen's egg didn't.

Jason smiled at Alicent every time he saw her in the halls of the keep, with Jacaerys in his arms and Vermax hanging around his neck.

Gweyne Hightower, Alicent's sworn shield, died of a ruptured stomach.

Alicent wept for days, too, mourning her brother's death as if one of her precious gods had vanished from the face of the earth.

After a victory came a defeat.

Dear Alicent didn't think her son would live without giving something in return, did she?

Chapter Text

Otto Hightower returned to the capital.

How could he be separated from his daughter when all they had was each other?

The king did not reinstate him as Hand, but welcomed his company as his father-in-law and old friend.

Alicent announced that she was pregnant again a few months later.

It seemed like her father put her to work.

Rhaenyra was attacked during one of her visits to the orphanages of the city.

His Rhaenyra, his princess who had discovered that morning that she was pregnant with her second baby.

Months later, Aemond Targaryen died from the bite of a poisonous insect.

The maid who had been looking after him that day in the garden was executed for her negligence.

The king ordered every corner of the fortress to be inspected to eradicate every insect.

Alicent Hightower fell into despair.

And Otto Hightower was furious.

How could a child be so beautiful?

It was as if a star, as if a small sun, had taken human form.

Silver curls, amethyst eyes, long, full eyelashes, rosy cheeks, and bow-shaped lips. A sweet face and a bouncy laugh.

Lucerys Targaryen was born to put to shame all the beautiful things and beings of the world.

“Including me?” Rhaenyra looked at him with amusement.

“You're the exception, my love. In fact, it's because of you that he was born so beautiful.”

"No, it's because of my mother." Her princess's eyes took on a sad gleam as she looked at her newborn son.

The son with the face of cousin Aemma.

"What do you eat that makes your children born looking like princesses of yesteryear? First Alyssa, and now Aemma. I hope the next one looks like me." Her mother lightened the mood with her comment.

"I'll do my best, Great-Aunt," Rhaenyra laughed.

Daemon and Lady Laena were married.

The lady was seven and ten namedays and the Rogue Prince had been a widower for a couple of years.

The king was so pleased with his new grandson that he simply laughed when Lord Corlys arrived at the capital to complain about Daemon having stolen Lady Laena from her betrothal to a Lord of Braavos.

Alicent gave birth to a healthy daughter.

A daughter with ordinary characteristics, as if her blood were only Andal.

“So your sister is a skilled witch after all.”

“My father's bastard was just lucky, my prince.”

Larys Strong was the mole who had approached him to offer his services.

It was he who told Alicent about his sister's magical abilities, which could help her bear healthy babies. Alicent, desperate to have children, put aside her aversion to arcane knowledge, which was condemned by the Faith, and ordered Larys to summon Alys Rivers to the capital.

“Will she still have luck when the whore asks him to curse my children or my wife?” He would expect nothing less from dear Alicent.

"I'll make sure she doesn't." Larys looked at him with his small, insidious eyes. "I don't think the queen will think of that, at least not for a while. Now that she's had a daughter, she'll seek a son. Lord Otto is desperate for a son to further his plans."

Of course, there was no point in fighting for the Iron Throne if there was no male to use as a poster child. No potential Green ally would budge until they had an heir. How could they challenge Rhaenyra with another woman? Especially when their princess had already secured her line with two sons.

The conservative nobility might not be happy with a future ruling queen, but they would tolerate it because it was already assured that there would be a king afterward.

“Well then, I trust you will keep this matter in order, Lord Larys. Your place on Queen Rhaenyra's Council and lands in your name are at stake.”

Larys bowed deferentially, but Jason caught a glimpse of her smug smile and greedy eyes.

“I will act diligently, Prince Jason.”

He didn't trust this man one bit, but he'd take advantage of him while he was useful.

Baela and Rhaena Targaryen were born as wild and beautiful things.

The beauty of Lady Laena and the violet eyes of Daemon.

The Golds and the Velaryons wasted no time.

They betrothed Jacaerys and Baela, the future king and queen of Westeros.

And to Lucerys and Rhaena, the future rulers of the Rock.

After Alysanne Targaryen, Alicent gave birth to one daughter after another.

Rhaella.

Maegelle.

Daella.

All daughters of a king, all princesses devoted to the Faith.

Did she think her survival by arcane means would be forgiven by her Seven Gods in this way? Did she think Valyrian names would make girls who looked completely Andal, so Hightower, considered Targaryens?

Larys Strong made sure that her bastard sister did not help Alicent have more children.

Gerion Targaryen was born temperamental and glorious, honoring both his dragon and lion blood.

How did Jason and Rhaenyra make such wonderful children?

Rhaenyra's hair and eyes, Jason's cheekbones, and his grandmother Viserra's smile.

"I'll never let him go," his mother reassured him as she rocked her new grandson. "Jace is Rhaenyra's, Luke is yours, but this boy is all mine."

He and Rhaenyra shared a smile, who would have guessed that all it took for Viserra Targaryen to put on such a soft expression was a grandson who looked just like her?

Baela was poisoned.

They would have lost her if it weren't for Orwyle's quick warning.

The antidote was administered just in time.

"The queen wasn't aware of it; it was Ser Otto's move," Larys reported later. "She was horrified when her father entered her chambers, enraged that his plan hadn't worked."

“Was he really unaware or did he lie to you?”

"The queen isn't a good actress; she really was kept in the dark. Ser Otto is no fool; he and the queen would be prime suspects. He wasn't going to let the queen's conscience ruin his efforts."

If it weren't for Otto and Daemon's enmity, Alicent's insistence on betrothing Jacaerys to Alysanne would be reason enough to point to them as the culprits of Baela's murder, at least for the Golds.

"You must have better control over the whore, Lord Larys. This can't happen again. Pay attention to what's happening around her, too."

“I will. Although Ser Otto is not an easy man to follow or deal with, he is not yet convinced he trusts me.”

"Don't worry about Otto Hightower, he'll be handled." Jason tapped his nails on the hilt of his sword. "I've let him run riot for too long."

"I have a gift for you, cousin," he said as he opened the door to one of the deepest cells in the fortress.

“Unless it's the bastard who touched my daughter-”

He fell silent when he saw Otto tied and gagged in a chair in the center of the cell.

The dim torchlight barely revealed the expression he was striving for, attempting to appear furious. A wasted effort, as his eyes showed only fear.

"I already took care of Mellos." The old man would be found dead in his bed the next day, diagnosed by Orwyle as having died from heart failure. "Have fun with this one."

“I definitely will.”

Jason left, not interested in seeing the horrors Daemon would inflict on his beloved Otto.

Weeks later, Otto's body was found floating in Blackwater Bay. Alicent, who had spent all this time praying for her missing father's well-being, fainted from grief.

After Otto's death, some years passed in complete peace.

His wife and children grew up beautiful and strong, prospering wonderfully.

Alicent kept to herself, locked in her chambers or the sept, always with her daughters close at hand, controlling them with an iron fist. With no father, no sons, her reputation in tatters, and no allies, there was nothing she could do to place her blood on the Iron Throne, if that was her wish.

Jason always had the impression that she simply wanted to surpass Rhaenyra in any way she could. After his princess showed indifference to her struggles, Alicent grew a hatred for her, one that grew with every triumph Rhaenyra had, every time she saw her thriving, untouchable.

Jason's efforts to keep Alicent's hateful attention on him never paid off; the wench was convinced that all her failures were Rhaenyra's doing. Jason had fought back laughter every time Larys informed him of Alicent's paranoia.

The idiot woman was convinced that Rhaenyra's life's mission was to destroy her.

He admitted it was his fault; he should have gotten rid of her from the start and not dragged out his involvement because he was curious to see how far the Greens could push them. Alicent had never been the real problem, the target—how could a skittish, foolish creature, incapable of doing anything for herself, be that? No, the problem had been her use, how Otto and the Hightower's would use her to further their ambitions.

And now its use was over.

Or so he thought.

The beloved Alicent had stopped being a puppet and had become the puppeteer.

She did to her daughters what her father did to her.

Only it didn't work out as well for him as it did for Otto.

Baela caught Alysanne trying to sneak into Jacaerys's room.

His son was eighteen years old, still single since Baela was two years away from coming of age, and Alicent's eldest daughter was fifteen years old, the only one of her daughters without a betrothal.

A year younger, but Baela made it her mission to drag the girl all over the Red Keep, screaming about the shameful act she had attempted.

Alicent tried to turn the tables, but nothing worked.

Like mother, like daughter, the Court mocked.

The king was so ashamed of his daughter's actions, especially when it went against the grandson he was so proud of, that he sent her to a nunnery to become a septa.

Alysanne's fall from grace caused her sisters to be considered of the same ilk.

Every House that Alicent had managed to betroth them to by pleading with the king to arrange suitable marriages for princesses of the blood broke their alliance. Tully, Tyrell, and Baratheon, Houses that had been convinced to accept the daughters of the Royal Whore because of the exorbitant dowries the king bestowed upon his daughters.

If the girls had been bonded to dragons, the king wouldn't have had to beg much for it. However, Rhaenyra had made sure that Alicent's daughters wouldn't have dragons; after all, they would be marrying outside the Targaryen family, and they couldn't allow dragons to be at the command of other Houses.

Jason still remembered Otto's constipated expression every time the king refused his request to give his granddaughters dragon eggs. Alicent hadn't made a fuss about it, but rather seemed relieved that her precious daughters wouldn't be around such monstrous beasts .

Something she surely regretted now.

She and her brats looked like they wanted to scream dracarys about Jason's family.

"I will have Rhaena Targaryen's tongue!" Alicent shouted, pointing at the young lady with her outstretched arm.

“I will gut you and anyone who dares to touch my daughter!” Lady Laena advanced to stand in front of her daughter, she had a knife in her hand and she looked furious as only a dragon mother could.

“Enough! That's enough!” the king tried to restore order.

“You can't let this stand, Viserys! Your daughters have been harmed! Your wife has been insulted!”

"Maegelle was the one who cut out my eye!" Baela exclaimed, filled with rage as if she didn't feel any pain in her face.

“Rhaella insulted my mother and Princess Rhaenyra first!” Rhaena followed behind Lady Laena. Scratches were all over her face and her hair was a mess, but everything about her screamed for retribution. “She called them whores!”

"They called my mother worse!" Maegelle took a step toward Rhaena. "She's the queen, you have no right to insult her!"

“What we said about your mother is not a lie! Everyone in the Seven Kingdoms knows she seduced the king to obtain a crown! She is the sinner! Where did Alysanne get it from if not from her!”

“Shut up! Shut up!” Rhaella rushed from where she stood by the dining table, trying to launch herself at Rhaena, but stopped when Daemon left Baela’s side to stand between the warring groups.

“It seems the tongues that must be cut out are those of your daughters, Viserys.”

Alicent and her brats squealed in fear.

“Nobody will cut anybody!”

“Your spawn mutilated my daughter, Viserys, give her the appropriate punishment or I will take retribution with my own hands,” the calm with which Daemon spoke was frightening.

Seeing him so controlled was scarier than seeing him angry.

“She's your niece, Daemon!”

“Your bitches' daughters are nothing to me, and they proved they're not family either by attacking their own flesh and blood like wild beasts.”

The king shook his head, on the verge of despair.

"Father, it was your daughters who sought out Baela and Rhaena to fight. They burst into the dining hall, while they were waiting for my sons to break their fast, and began hurling malicious and baseless accusations."

Rhaena had explained that Alicent's daughters had arrived screaming that they were betrothal thieves and that because of Baela, Alysanne had to become a septa.

The brats seemed to believe Jacaerys should marry Alysanne and that Lucerys belonged to Rhaella; it didn't take a genius to figure out where they got such ridiculous notions. Maegelle was angry that her engagement was called off.

Baela and Rhaena hadn't remained silent, and between insults and shouts, things had gotten out of hand. They had begun slapping each other and pulling each other's hair, and suddenly Maegelle grabbed one of the knives from the table and attacked Baela, wounding her in the face.

The guards, who would lose their minds for their terrible work, entered just at that moment, followed by Jacaerys and Lucerys.

His boys hovered worriedly behind their fiancées, something that continued to anger the Hightower creatures.

“Baela and Rhaena are your grandchildren's fiancées, your nieces, something-”

"And you think that makes them more important than my daughters!" Alicent advanced on Rhaenyra. "My daughters with the king's daughters! They are far more valuable than those girls you defend! But you don't care, you've never acknowledged them as such! My daughters and I have always been inferior to you!"

“You're putting words in my mouth, stepmother.”

“I know it's true! Otherwise, why have you rejected us for years?!”

Jason stepped in as Alicent was about to reach Rhaenyra. There was no way he was going to let that woman touch his princess with her filthy hands.

“And you! Always making fun of me!” In a swift movement, Alicent dug her nails into Jason's cheeks. “Parading your children in front of my eyes every time I lost my precious ones!”

“Alicent, let him go!” Rhaenyra shouted.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Your Excellency." Jason could have easily shaken her off, but it was better to let her dig her grave deeper.

“I should have let my father kill your children! He should have focused his efforts on them instead of Baela Targaryen! But I thought they were more useful alive to marry my daughters!”

Larys had lied to Jason, after all.

“I should have let him kill you too!”

Then Alicent let go.

Her gaze was wild as she redirected her attention to Rhaenyra, who had remained still after hearing such terrible revelations. The rest of those present were similarly distraught; the king seemed on the verge of collapse.

“Then you would have felt a bit of my pain! Children, aunts, brothers, and parents! I was losing them all because of you!” She took a step toward Rhaenyra, however, before she could take another, Daemon knocked her out with a blow to the back of the head with the hilt of the Dark Sister.

The brats began to squeal like pigs, crying out for their mother.

The king annulled his marriage to his second wife, declared his daughters bastards, and sent them to Oldtown.

Alicent had the added punishment of being handed over to the Silent Sisters, however, she died because her cut tongue became infected before she could even set foot outside the Red Keep (Orwyle was worth every coin she spent on him).

Her daughters were attacked on the road to Oldtown, robbed and murdered by bandits.

Jason had had nothing to do with the last bit, that had been all Daemon, who would never in a million years let any attack on his daughters go unanswered.

House Hightower made no fuss about it, so low were they in the eyes of the entire kingdom. The eradication of Alicent and her offspring was more of a blessing at this point.

Larys Strong was found with his neck broken at the bottom of the same stairs that had taken Lady Hightower's life.

"Time flies by so fast, Jay. I still see him as my little baby, as if I were cradling him for the first time, but he's already an adult, taking possession of his lordship." Despite her words, Rhaenyra beamed with pride.

They were at Casterly Rock, accompanying Lucerys in her early days as Lord Lannister.

Lucerys Lannister.

Would Jason's smile ever fade?

"Luce will always be your baby, Nyra, our baby. And we still have Jace and Rion, and soon we'll have another baby to fill our arms." He reverently stroked his princess's swollen belly. "And in a few years, we'll have grandchildren to adore."

Baela was quite eager to get her hands on Jacaerys, his foolish, lovelorn son, who gazed in awe at the amethyst his betrothed wore in the hollow of her blind eye. Daemon's daughter carried her scar like a weapon; she would undoubtedly make a formidable queen for Jacaerys.

"I only regret that my father doesn't share this happiness with us; the years haven't been kind to him," she sighed.

“Regrettable, indeed.” He kissed her temple.

The king had been cloistered in his chambers, tormented by the loss of so many children and the consequences of his actions. Rhaenyra ruled alongside Lord Strong, though without the title of regent.

If the king was causing his princess so much grief, it would be best to deal with him before he dragged out his misery for years and made Rhaenyra miserable in the process.

The things I do for love, he thought.