Chapter 17 - Four Years (II)
"Lies will always be discovered, especially if there are powers beyond human comprehension." Aenar Targaryen, aged ten, watching Eddard Stark.
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Eddard watched his nephew enter his solar. At the age of ten, Aenar was already tall and broad-shouldered, easily passing for a young man of thirteen or fourteen. His features bore the innate nobility and beauty of House Targaryen, something often commented on by the servants. Eddard knew that his nephew drew too much attention for his own good.
What most caught the Lord of Winterfell's attention, however, was the boy's posture and aura.
Before him stood a young man of regal and princely bearing. Every movement, every gesture, every intense gaze exuded the dignity of a prince. There were times when Aenar's presence was so imposing that Eddard almost believed he was standing before a powerful and wise king.
Sometimes he found himself dreaming of Aenar sitting on the Iron Throne. And, even against his will, he had to admit: he knew that his nephew could be as great a king as Jaehaerys I, the Old King. Perhaps even greater than any monarch who had ever reigned in Westeros.
Better than Robert...
Shaking his head, Eddard put these dangerous thoughts out of his mind and took a deep breath.
Jon would never be king.
"I see you're sweaty, how was your training?" Eddard leaned back in his chair and asked, looking at his nephew with an impassive expression.
"As always Robb being defeated." Jon replied in a calm, courteous tone. His crimson red clothes hugged his body, showing off his slightly muscular and slender frame.