The Crimson Dragon |ASOIAF/HOTD|

Lilyanna walked as quickly as she could back to her bedchamber, not wanting to risk running into any of her family members.

She knew that she was only delaying the inevitable, but she was not in the mood to be accosted by one of them as she thought about Larys escaping his fate.

It seems the universe has decided to fuck me over again. Lilyanna thought as she caught sight of Criston standing in front of her door.

"Ser Criston." Lilyanna said, catching the knight's attention as she walked towards him, "Can I ask just how angry she is with me?"

Criston looked at Lilyanna with a tight expression on his face, "Your mother is displeased, princess, more so than I have seen her before."

Lilyanna exhaled sharply through her nose, "How wonderful."

"You shouldn't have gone out into the city, especially not at a time such as this; you could have been seriously hurt. Do you not remember what happened on Dragonstone?" Criston asked.

"I remember, but I had to act," Lilyanna said. She knew that the man was simply worried about her safety and did not fault him for it, even as she knew he did not understand.

You always have to do something. Criston thought.

Lilyanna sighed, "Well, let me through so I can meet my executioner with my head raised high."

Criston's mouth twitched in a faint, reluctant smile as he stood aside and allowed the girl to enter her chamber.

When Lilyanna entered her room, she saw her mother sitting on her bed, staring out of the window.

Alicent's head quickly snapped forward as she heard the door open, and she stood to her feet as Lilyanna walked inside, and Criston closed the door behind her.

"Mother, I know that you're upset with me-"

"Upset does not begin to cover what I am feeling right now," Alicent said furiously as she walked towards her daughter. "Just what were you thinking?! Do you have any idea what could have become of you? You snuck into the city to chase down a man responsible for the murder of two lords, why could you not simply leave things alone that do not concern you?"

Lilyanna frowned, "Because an investigation into this whole matter wouldn't have even been made if I had not pushed for it, the fools at the helm of the City Watch and this Keep's household guard were content to ignore the obvious signs that Harwin and Lyonel's deaths weren't an accident. With that precedent, why should I have trusted Daemon and his lackeys with finding Perkin? And I was right not to, as I was the one who ended up finding him."

"Because you are a child!" Alicent snapped, her hands clenching at her sides, "For as long as I can remember, you have walked through life as if you know everything, as if you are untouchable, but you are not, Lilyanna. And I do not want to bury another child because you cannot help but put yourself in these dangerous situations!"

Lilyanna hated that her mother was attempting to use Elaera to guilt-trip her, even as she understood that Alicent was scared for her. "You're not going to."

Alicent huffed, "I feel as if those ears of yours only hear what you want to hear and ignore everything else. Did I not tell you to stop sneaking around and inserting yourself where you do not belong?"

Lilyanna crossed her arms, her jaw clenched, "You said I shouldn't do that on Dragonstone, this isn't Dragonstone, last I checked."

"Lilyanna-"

"And if it's not me, then who else will get off their asses and-"

"Lilyanna!" Alicent shouted, cutting Lilyanna off, "You are not allowed to leave this room."

"So, you are confining me?" Lilyanna scoffed, "Until when?"

"Until you learn that you are not above consequence!" Alicent shouted, her voice breaking near the end. "Until you learn to listen to me when I tell you not to do something instead of ignoring and talking back to me."

Lilyanna blinked, momentarily thrown by the tremor in her mother's tone. "You can't keep me locked away because you're scared."

Alicent took a step closer, her eyes shining with a mixture of fury and fear, "Watch me."

Alicent turned away sharply, the door closing behind her with a heavy thud.

Lilyanna sighed as she walked over to her bed and threw herself face-first into it. "That could have gone better."

---

Laenor sighed as he left Rhaenyra's bedchamber and began walking towards his own.

His wife had been in a foul mood since the small council meeting earlier that day, but had refused to speak much about it, wallowing in her anger and pain.

I don't know which is worse when Rhaenyra decides to make her anger known and the problem of everyone who encounters her, or when she becomes quiet and closed off as she is now. Laenor thought.

He could not fault her reaction as Laenor knew that if he learned that his own father had fathered a bastard child and now had a bastard grandchild running around, he would react similarly. Especially as this newly discovered bastard daughter was born a few years before Rhaenyra, and while her own mother was struggling with conceiving a living and healthy child.

Laenor hated that he was unable to make Rhaenyra feel better and wanted to drink, but as he entered his chambers and saw his parents, Laena, and Daemon sitting in his solar, he knew that he would not get the chance to.

"What are you all doing here?" Laenor asked, closing the doors behind him.

Laena raised an eyebrow, "Do you really need to ask that?"

Laenor sighed, "No, I suppose I don't."

Corlys and Daemon were both at the council meeting, and just as Rhaenyra had told him what had happened, Laenor knew that his father and good brother would do the same with their spouses.

Although I'm sure most of the Red Keep already knows, it's just not feasible that something like this will remain secret. I wouldn't be surprised if the whole city knows by the end of the day, then the rest of Westeros soon enough.

"How is Rhaenyra?" Laena asked.

"Not good, not good at all." Laenor said as he sat down across from his sister, "She has gotten quiet; it's a bit unnerving in all honesty."

"I can imagine," Daemon said with an amused huff.

He knew his niece, and he knew that Rhaenyra was not the type of person who could keep her emotions buried for long and that it would only be a matter of time before Rhaenyra eventually exploded.

Rhaenys turned to her son, "Rhaenyra just found out that her father may have sired a bastard line while her mother was still alive and trying her hardest to give him an heir; she has every right to be shaken. I know that if I discovered the same about my own father or yours, my rage would be all but impossible to contain."

Laena could not stop her eyes from flickering towards her father, seeing the uneasy way his body shifted when Rhaenys said this.

Corlys felt his daughter's eyes on him, glancing at her and quickly looking away, a trickle of shame unraveling in his stomach due to his secret. He had always regretted the day she discovered the truth, feeling both relieved and remorseful that Laena was willing to keep it, not for his sake, but to keep Rhaenys and Laenor blissfully ignorant.

Laena scowled at Corlys but schooled her features when Daemon looked at her, forcing a smile onto her face so as not to raise his suspicions.

"Do you think this... boy Larys Strong found will be a problem?" Laenor asked, looking at everyone questioningly. "Is that not why you have all come here? So, we can discuss this as a family?"

Rhaenys folded her hands neatly in her lap; her expression as composed as ever, though her eyes betrayed her concern. "Whether the boy is truly Viserys' blood or not matters less than what others believe. You know how fast rumor travels, and how eager the lords of the realm are to believe the worst of House Targaryen."

Daemon's lip curled faintly, "Let them whisper, it changes nothing."

"It changes plenty." Corlys countered, his tone clipped, "A bastard grandson of the King's eldest living child, who has grown impoverished and isolated? He would make the perfect puppet for those who would run to this boy should they find the current or future regimes lacking."

Daemon laughed, "Corlys, you are being too cautious, you expect this brat to be a threat to Rhaenyra and Jacaerys all without any legitimacy to his worthless name, a sizable army, or any coin to speak of? And most importantly, a dragon? Any lord who decides to back this specific boy instead of my brother's other legitimate progeny in a fight for the throne is nothing more than a desperate madman."

"A madman did try, Daemon, he simply was not a lord this time around, but who is to say one will not try in the future once word spreads?" Rhaenys asked, meeting Daemon's eyes, "Especially as it becomes known that this bastard is related to a womanly Viserys was fond of, perhaps even in love with."

Daemon scoffed, "Viserys was not in love with that whore, he was in lust with her; he is simply too sentimental to see the difference."

"What will Viserys do about this?" Laena asked, "He must do something; it seems unwise to allow such a rumor to run rampant."

Rhaenys sighed, "He'll do what he always does: pretend it never happened, that everything that has been revealed is a lie, and hope it fades."

Daemon's eyes narrowed thoughtfully, "If the possibility of this boy endangering the line of succession is so terrifying, we can simply-"

"We're not doing that!" Laena exclaimed, staring at her husband wide-eyed.

"You don't know what I was going to say."

Laena glared at Daemon, "You were going to suggest that we dispose of the boy before he can become more of a problem."

"Oh, then you do know what I was going to say. You know me so well, darling." Daemon grinned roguishly when Laena's glare deepened.

"Do you truly think that if that boy dies, you would not be the first person suspected of the crime?" Rhaenys asked. "That would be the moment Viserys stops throwing his forgiveness at your feet."

Daemon's grin thinned, annoyance flashing in his eyes, knowing that his cousin was right.

"If Viserys is going to ignore what is so clearly an issue, then right now, the best thing we can do is keep an eye on the boy and make sure that no other power-hungry fools approach him for their own designs," Corlys said, already thinking of how irritating this whole situation was.

But the last thing he was going to do was sit back and do nothing as his legacy and his grandchildren's birthright was in jeopardy; every threat, no matter how small and insignificant, had to be assessed and dealt with.

Daemon's mouth twisted; he knew that by now Lilyanna would have already moved to shelter Trystane, and he knew just who she would trust with Trystane's safety.

He did not mention this to the others, already knowing that Mysaria would do everything in her power to ensure that their efforts would be in vain.

I suppose I should give her another visit, just ensure this boy is no threat, with my own eyes. Daemon thought, letting this knowledge settle over him.

---

The Next Day

Once the servant who had brought Lilyanna her breakfast had left her room, Lilyanna immediately stepped through her bedroom's secret door and entered the Keep's tunnel system.

After what she heard yesterday, she needed to check on Trystane and to make sure that nothing had happened to him since she had taken him to Mysaria.

Even if mother were to walk into my room and see that I'm gone, she wouldn't know how I escaped, so it should be fine. Although she will probably give me her longest lecture yet. Lilyanna thought, unafraid of any punishment she may receive for her disobedience.

Lilyanna was pulled from her thoughts when she heard the dirt shifting behind her and felt the sensation of someone watching her. At first, Lilyanna did not react, wanting to give the person following her the false impression that she was unaware of their presence.

Slowly, she moved her hand to the dagger on her hip, and when she was sure her peruser was close enough, she unsheathed her weapon and quickly spun around, grabbing them and pressing the blade to their neck as she shoved them against the nearest wall.

"Why are-Rhaenyra?" Lilyanna blinked, confused as she was now looking into the eyes of her eldest sister.

What the fuck is she wearing? Lilyanna thought, realizing that her sister was dressed in a dark tunic and trousers with a heavy cloak over her body.

It was strange for her to see her sister wearing such cheap and colorless clothing, as Rhaenyra looked like a pauper instead of the affluent and fashionable princess she usually was.

"Yes, it's me, who else would I be?" Rhaenyra asked, visibly annoyed.

She was slightly scared by how quickly Lilyanna had managed to pin her, and by the cold gleam in Lilyanna's eyes that only disappeared when she realized who she was, although she would never admit this.

"The two of us, Helaena, Rhaenys, and Daemon, are not the only ones in the Keep who know about these tunnels." Lilyanna said as she stepped away from Rhaenyra and sheathed her dagger, "These tunnels are used by a couple of nobles and servants as well for spying and the like. But enough of that, why are you following me?"

"When our family broke our fast this morning, Alicent had spoken to our father about you being confined to your room for the rest of the week, but I knew that you certainly wouldn't abide by this punishment and would sneak out. You are going to the city, aren't you? To check on... the boy?" A sneer appeared on Rhaenyra's face as she forced the last words out of her mouth.

Lilyanna crossed her arms, scowling at her sister, "His name is Trystane, and why do you-"

"I wish to see him for myself." Rhaenyra quickly said.

"That sounds like a terrible and honestly braindead idea," Lilyanna said without hesitation.

Rhaenyra frowned, her jaw tightening at her sister's bluntness, "You don't get to decide what is and isn't a terrible idea, Lilyanna. I have a right to know the truth about him, about all of this. If he truly carries our father's blood, then it concerns me more than anyone."

Lilyanna tilted her head, unimpressed, "And what exactly do you plan to do if he does? He is the bastard son of a seamstress who, in turn, was the bastard daughter of a whore. Compared to you, he is nothing in the eyes of Westeros, of the world; he is no threat to your inheritance, sister."

"If he is no threat, then why did Perkin take him in? I cannot imagine a Gold Cloak would do that unless he believed that the bo-Trystane was worth the investment."

"Because Perkin was an idiot who thought that Trystane could be his ticket to power. Do you really think that with yourself, your children, our siblings, Daemon, and our cousins all still alive and well, anyone would back a bastard of uncertain parentage from Flea Bottom in a war for the throne?" Lilyanna asked, "We both know how ludicrous that sounds."

Rhaenyra's nostrils flared as she looked off to the side. She supposed that this was too much for Lilyanna to understand. It was not about the threat of Trystane, under the influence of another, pushing his nonexistent claim to the throne that scared her, but his connection to Viserys.

I could see it in his eyes when Larys mentioned that woman's name, father cared for her. While my mother struggled to give him a child, he was falling in love with and impregnating a whore. Rhaenyra thought.

She said both her supposed older half-sister and her half-sister's mother were dead, but she needed to know; she needed to see Trystane with her own eyes.

"Lilyanna, I need to see him, I… I need to know." Rhaenyra said softly.

Lilyanna stared at her sister for a few moments before loudly sighing, "I still think this is a bad idea, and that you're just going to hurt yourself, but fine."

Rhaenyra smiled, "Thank you."

Lilyanna narrowed her eyes, "I'm only doing this because I know that if I leave you behind, you'll just follow me again and probably get yourself killed wandering around Flea Bottom like an idiot. You also cannot tell anyone about where we are going and who we are meeting with."

"How long have you been sneaking into the city? And where in the city are you going?" Rhaenyra asked, "I had meant to ask when you and Helaena came to our father, Rhaenys, and me about her dream, but-"

Rhaenyra watched as Lilyanna suddenly flinched, her eyes widening before a fierce glare appeared on her face as she was now looking at something over Rhaenyra's shoulder. It was as if someone had jumped out and scared Lilyanna.

Rhaenyra frowned, "What is-"

"You can step out of the shadows, uncle. You know, I'm beginning to think that you enjoy following women around like a pervert." Lilyanna said coldly, her voice echoing faintly in the tunnel.

Daemon stepped forward from the darkness with that familiar smirk tugging at his lips, his violet eyes gleaming in the dim light, wearing a cloak of his own. "Women? Is that what you call yourself? Well, I suppose we all have certain delusions we refuse to part with."

"Daemon? You were following me?" Rhaenyra asked, clearly displeased.

"I was not following you, Rhaenyra." Daemon replied smoothly, "Though I must admit, I hadn't expected to find the two of you sneaking off together, quite the little conspiracy forming here."

"What are you doing here?" Lilyanna spat, knowing that they would be here all day if they allowed Daemon his fun.

Daemon grinned sharply, "Like your sister, I wish to see the alleged spawn of my dear brother's… youthful indiscretions."

These people are truly testing my patience. Lilyanna wanted to tell Daemon to fuck off, but she knew that Daemon would simply go to Mysaria's manse on his own, and she would be damned before she left Trystane alone in a room with Daemon Targaryen of all people.

Daemon will lose interest once he sees that Trystane is no threat to anyone. Lilyanna huffed but turned away, resuming her path through the tunnel, "Fine, but if you so much as look at Trystane the wrong way, I'll gut you."

"Gut me?" Daemon laughed softly, "Try that, and I will give you another injury to match the one on your head, brat."

Rhaenyra sighed as she followed her now bickering sister and uncle, a thought itching at the back of her head. "How long have you known Trystane?"

Lilyanna did not look back at Rhaenyra, "For a few moons."

Rhaenyra pursed her lips, "Did you know that he was…."

"No, I didn't. I assumed that he had to be related to someone important, as you said, a Gold Cloak peasant wouldn't raise a dragonseed as their own unless they believed they would get something out of them. But I just assumed that he was one of Daemon's."

Daemon scoffed, "And why would you think that?"

Lilyanna rolled her eyes, "I don't know, why would I think that Lord Flea Bottom? I would be shocked if you didn't have a couple of bastards running about."

Daemon shrugged, "Perhaps I do. Bastards have a way of surviving against most odds, maybe one day one of them will crawl out of Flea Bottom and put you all to shame."

"Wouldn't that be something," Lilyanna muttered, her tone flat.

Rhaenyra glanced between them, her irritation growing by the moment, "Can the two of you stop bickering for at least a few breaths? You sound like children."

"That's rich, coming from you."

"I am a child."

Daemon and Lilyanna said, respectively. Daemon was smirking at Rhaenyra while Lilyanna was looking back at her like she was an idiot.

This is going to be a long trip. Rhaenyra trailed after them, the torchlight flickering over them as they moved deeper into the tunnels.

Just as they reached the part of the tunnels that took them through the castle gardens, Rhaenyra stopped when she heard a familiar voice speaking, and through a crack in the wall, she could see Mushroom standing before a small crowd of people.

"And there Prince Daemon stood, covered head to toe in all of Dragonstone's excrement. Shit from every man, woman, child, and dragon dripped off his body like the foulest of tonics, courtesy of Princess Lilyanna." Mushroom said, spinning his tale to the delight of those listening, "He wept like a babe, begging for the princess's mercy, for reprieve from the revenge that she had bestowed upon him for his treacherous attack against her, against her most delicate royal honor!"

Mushroom then threw his arms out wide for emphasis as the small crowd erupted in laughter.

"And as the prince knelt before her, dripping and defeated, the gallant Princess Lilyanna declared, 'Let this be a lesson to all men who mistake me for meek!' And with that, she turned on her heel and left him wallowing in his own filth! Instead of a Rouge Prince, there was nothing left but a Prince of the Chamber Pot."

Rhaenyra blinked once, then started snickering, barely able to keep herself from laughing too loudly to not reveal where they were. "Seven Hells! I think I may enjoy Mushroom's version of events better."

I am going to kill that fucking dwarf! Daemon thought, his eye twitching as he resisted the urge to strangle the fool with his bare hands. "There is nothing funny about this farce of a tale, Rhaenyra."

I knew it would only be a matter of time before Mushroom gave his own spin on what happened, but this is actually tame compared to most of his stories. Lilyanna thought, ignoring the glare Daemon was now giving her, feeling the blame he was throwing at her feet for this.

Daemon knocked his shoulder into her as he shoved his way past, stewing in his anger as he disappeared deeper into the tunnel.

Lilyanna rolled her eyes, "Men."

Rhaenyra let out a snort when her sister said this, and the two of them quickened their pace to catch up with Daemon.

---

"We should be able to leave now, yes? Now that the Strongs' killers have been put to death?" Connas asked the others in the room.

"You forget that Larys Strong still hobbles about." Daven drawled, "He was the reason that suspicion was even placed on us to begin with."

"Suspicion that would not have been put on us if our so-called leader had not decided to fuck us over with her arrogance." Aran spat, glaring at the head of the table where Mysaria sat.

"We all agreed to plan, Aran," Mysaria said with a bored inflection in her voice, repeating what she had been telling the man for days. "What's done is done; continuing to throw blame at my feet is pointless."

Aran sneered at her, "You are playing with our lives, woman. And you don't-"

Mysaria thanked the Gods when the doors to the room opened, and Garrat entered, ending what would have been another irritating rant by the eldest Ostoris triplet.

"Mistress Mysaria, Princess Lilyanna is here to see you," Garrat said.

Mysaria leaned back in her chair, "She wishes to see Trystane, doesn't she?"

"Yes, but..." Garrat hesitated for a moment, "But she did not come alone, Princess Rhaenyra and Prince Daemon are also with her."

An uneasy silence fell over the room; even the sounds of the crackling hearth seemed to still when Rhaenyra and Daemon's names left Garrat's lips.

Harlario's eyes widened, "Princess Rhaenyra and Prince Daemon? Here? Now?"

"Well, we're fucked." Clarton said with a laugh, but his paling skin and the hand that tightened on the armrest of his chair betrayed his anxiety.

It was impossible for him to forget the last time that Daemon had come to this manse; he could still feel the hands of the prince's Gold Cloaks holding him down as they were accused of murdering Lyonel and Harwin Strong.

It was the most fearful he had felt in years, and he definitely did not want to experience anything like it again.

"There are no knights or Gold Cloaks with them, mistress." Garrat continued, "I do not believe that they have come to arrest anyone."

Before Mysaria could give the young man his orders, the doors of the room swung open, and the face of the Rogue Prince was staring down at her, a smug smirk resting on his lips.

"Did you have to barge your way here? Mysaria would have had Trystane brought out to the parlor." Lilyanna said as she entered the room after her uncle, an annoyed expression on her face, "Or is this just your way of terrifying others so that you can feel superior to them?"

"You show so much care for propriety, niece, or were you trying to stop me so that Rhaenyra does not see what you have been hiding?" Daemon asked, looking at Lilyanna from the corner of his eye.

"Hiding what?" Rhaenyra asked as she finally entered the room, her eyes falling upon everyone present. "Why are the members of the civilian council here?"

"They came here for protection because Daemon had falsely accused them of treason," Lilyanna answered plainly.

Daemon glanced at the peasants before him, "They started various disputes against the late Lord Lyonel's rule, along with being in opposition with him during my brother's time on Dragonstone. Who else would have had the motive?"

Lilyanna ignored Daemon as she looked at Mysaria, "I apologize for bringing them; they were adamant about seeing Trystane as well."

Mysaria stood, looking at Garrat, "Bring Trystane to the parlor; they can speak to him there."

Garrat nodded and immediately left to carry out his mistress's command, keeping his head down as he walked past the elder two royals.

"Is there a reason why the bastard can't be brought here, Mysaria?" Daemon asked, watching Mysaria walk towards him and his nieces.

"Other than your presence scaring my guests?" Mysaria asked dryly.

Daemon huffed, humorlessly, "You wound me."

Mysaria met his gaze evenly, a faint, knowing look ghosting her features.

Rhaenyra looked between Daemon and Mysaria, curiosity and discomfort warring in her eyes, "You two know each other?"

Daemon looked at Rhaenyra, amused, "Your memory seems to be failing you, niece."

Mysaria opened one of the doors, walking out of the room, annoyed by the prince's behavior. Daemon noticed this, and his smirk grew as he turned to follow the spymaster.

"What do you mean that my memory is failing me?" Rhaenyra asked as she exited the room.

Lilyanna sighed before looking at the remaining councilors, "How have you all been doing since-"

"Since we were almost taken to the Black Cells and tortured?" Vyrero asked with a teasing grin.

"Yes, since that." Lilyanna said, rolling her eyes, "You all don't need to hide out here anymore, the Gold Cloaks won't be trying to arrest you again."

"And what of the Clubfoot?" Sylvi asked, "What is to say that he will not try something like this again?"

"He most likely will," Lilyanna said, knowing well of the rivalry that existed between Mysaria and Larys. "But staying here won't change that. And we will need to focus on what the dismantling of this council could mean."

"Dismantling? Why would such a thing occur?" Aran asked, gritting his teeth.

"You were seen publicly quarreling against the late Hand and Commander of the Gold Cloaks and almost caused an altercation during court. This is the kind of thing the King feared when I first came to him with the proposal for the civilian council. I wouldn't be surprised if Larys and his councilors are trying to convince him that some sort of punishment must be given; thus, this council being disbanded."

Aran slammed his fist against the table, the sound echoing through the room, "So, after all we've risked, all we've done to improve this city, the King would just throw it away because that cripple whispers poison in his ear?"

Were you even listening? We wouldn't be in this position if you all hadn't acted so recklessly. Lilyanna pinched the bridge of her nose, exhaling sharply.

"And what of you, princess? What do you plan to do about this inevitable outcome?" Kella asked.

Lilyanna turned to the madam, "I'm working on it."

"She's working on it, she says," Aran muttered bitterly, causing Harlario to harshly jab his elbow into his side, silencing him.

Lilyanna glared at the man, "Just keep your heads down, all of you, no more drawing attention to yourselves until I can find a way out of this mess. Do I make myself clear?"

They all nodded, some reluctantly, others with quiet resignation.

"Good." With that, Lilyanna turned on her heel and stormed out of the room.

When Lilyanna reached the parlor, she saw that Rhaenyra was looking at Daemon and Mysaria with a shocked expression on her face.

Rhaenyra turned when she heard her sister approaching them, "Lilyanna, did you-"

"Know about these two fucking each other's brains out over a decade ago?" Lilyanna asked, "Yes."

Rhaenyra choked on air, her eyes going wide and her mouth opening and closing like a fish that was being deprived of water. "You knew? How did you even come to know Daemon's wh-mistress? And why did you never say anything about this?"

Lilyanna huffed, "Do you not remember everyone's reaction when I first proposed the council? When they found out Sylvi and Kella were brothel madams, they almost lost their minds, mother especially. The reaction would have been worse if I had told them about Mysaria's past with Daemon; they would never have accepted her as a choice for the civilian council. And why should Mysaria be punished just because she has terrible taste in men?"

Daemon glared at Lilyanna from the corner of his eye but said nothing in response to Lilyanna's insult.

Before Rhaenyra could ask another question, Garrat had returned with Trystane in tow. Rhaenyra inhaled sharply, her throat tightening as she took in the sight of him.

Most of his features did not match her father's; his hair was a few shades darker, his skin touched by the sun, and his frame thinner than Viserys', undoubtedly due to not eating properly. But his eyes were the same shade of dark purple that she saw every day in the eyes of her father, Jacaerys, Aemond, and Daeron.

If father looked upon this child, would he see his whore's face? Would he be happy to know that a piece of her lives on?

Trystane froze when he saw the three royals, uncertainty flickering across his face, his posture stiffened, and his hands twitched at his sides.

"Trystane," Lilyanna said with a smile, moving away from the others and placing a hand on his shoulder. "How are you? Has Mysaria been treating you well?"

Trystane nodded his head, glancing at the princess and the other royals, "She has, Lily-I mean princess!"

"How many times must I tell you not to call me princess or anything else of the sort?" Lilyanna asked teasingly.

Rhaenyra took a step forward, then hesitated, for all her anger and suspicion. The boy before her did not look like a threat, so her voice was gentle as she spoke to him. "You are... Trystane. How old are you?"

"I-I-I a-am nine n-names days, Y-Your Grace," Trystane answered.

He is Jacaerys and Daeron's age. Rhaenyra thought, unable to stop herself from making the comparison.

"So, this is the whelp?" Daemon asked his question, erasing the tentative smile that had appeared on Trystane's face as he studied the boy as one would a stray dog. "He does not look like much. Tell me, boy, has anyone ever told you that you might be of royal blood?"

Trystane did not meet Daemon's gaze, flinching, "N-no, my prince."

Daemon's eyes narrowed, "And what do you know of your parents? Your grandparents?"

Trystane fidgeted under his stare, his voice trembling as he spoke, "M-My mother was a seamstress before she-she died, s-she never told me about my g-grandparents, but she told me that my father was a-a blacksmith, my prince."

"How convenient," Daemon said with a snort, but he could not deny that parts of Trystane's story matched what Larys had told the small council.

"That's enough, Daemon." Lilyanna glared at the prince, standing in front of Trystane protectively. "You've seen him and asked your questions; you should both be satisfied now."

Daemon's lips curved into a thin smile, his gaze flicking between Lilyanna, Rhaenyra, Mysaria, and Trystane. "Satisfied? Hardly. But I've seen enough to know this child poses no threat, at least, not yet."

"'Not yet?'" Lilyanna echoed, her tone sharp.

Daemon shrugged lazily, his violet eyes settling on Trystane again, "Regardless of what the truth may be, he can still be used by anyone ambitious enough. And who is to say that Viserys wouldn't wish to meet his newest grandchild? My brother may wish to shower upon his beloved whore's grandson the highest of honors."

Rhaenyra scowled when Daemon said this, the words cutting through her like a blade and unraveling the jealousy and rage she was desperately trying to keep buried.

Her stomach twisted inside, unable to stop the image of her father holding this boy, smiling at him the way he smiled at her own children from appearing in her mind.

Grandchild? Trystane thought his eyes had grown impossibly wide as she stared at Daemon. Is he… is he truly calling me the King's grandson?

He knew that he was of Valyrian descent, but the idea that his blood could reach so high was both blasphemous and inconceivable to Trystane.

"For father to do that, he would have to acknowledge Trystane and his late mother, and he has no reason to do that, especially not now. It would give him far too much grief and would create a problem that he wouldn't be able to ignore." Lilyanna said, coldly staring at her sister and uncle.

Trystane could not deny that it hurt to hear Lilyanna refer to him as a problem. It reminded him of how old family friends had treated him in the aftermath of his mother's death, as if he were nothing more than a burden, and whose existence was to be ignored lest they be responsible for taking care of him.

"I think we've seen enough," Rhaenyra said, her voice brittle.

Daemon glanced at Rhaenyra before loudly sighing, "I suppose we have."

Daemon's grin disappeared as he turned to Trystane, causing the boy to press his forehead against Lilyanna's back, trying to hide himself from the prince's gaze.

"But at the very least, we know where the boy stays, so should worst come to worst, it will be a quick ending." With that, Daemon swept out of the parlor, his cloak snapping behind him.

Rhaenyra lingered, her gaze falling on Trystane one last time; his eyes were still wide, frightened, and confused. She opened her mouth, but no words came, and she quickly turned and followed Daemon without another glance.

Lilyanna waited until the door closed behind them before crouching slightly so that she was level with Trystane's gaze. "Don't listen to that cunt, he's an insecure child who likes to frighten and harass people, it makes him feel powerful, but you are safe here. Do you understand me?"

Trystane hesitated, his lip trembling, "B-But w-what a-about the K-King? Prince Daemon s-said-"

Lilyanna shook her head, "Daemon was talking out of his ass, the King will want nothing from you or to do anything to you."

"Because I'm a bastard's bastard?"

"Yes."

This single word was soul-crushing to Trystane, especially as it came from someone whom he thought he could trust and who he thought cared for him.

Lilyanna sighed, knowing what the dragonseed was thinking, "Trystane, I am not saying this to hurt you, but because I know you can handle the truth. I am sure that you know that bastardy carries a certain stigma in Westeros, and while it is not your or any other bastard's fault that they are born, others will treat you like it is, especially bastards with a high-born parent. Your situation is unique; if you were descended from anyone else, they may have made sure you were provided for, even if they never took you into their household or had you fostered by another, but the King will not do that for you. Acknowledging you would mean having to acknowledge that he was not a perfect husband to his first wife and admitting that they did not have the fairy tale marriage that he likes to pretend that he had with her. With everything as it is now, there is plausible deniability, and he and everyone else can continue to keep the wool over their eyes; admitting that you are his baseborn grandson would ruin that illusion."

"W-Would I... would I be killed if the King a-acknowledged me?" Trystane asked, thinking about the way Daemon and, to a lesser extent, Rhaenyra looked at him while they were here.

"There could be people, people like Perkin, who could seek to use your status as a way to gain power for themselves, and if you are seen as too great a threat, then yes, you could be killed," Lilyanna answered.

Trystane shuddered, fear gripping him as he thought about Perkin, remembering the feeling of Perkin's sword against his neck as the man threatened to kill him.

The idea of others like Perkin, people who pretended to care about him so that they could use him for their own purposes, and having no qualms about getting rid of him should they see such an action as necessary, terrified Trystane.

"But given your bastard status, the fact that your claim comes from a woman as opposed to a man, who in turn was also a bastard, the various trueborn Targaryens ahead of you in the succession, and your lack of a dragon, the possibility of anyone seeing you as a viable contender for the throne and rallying behind you is minuscule."

But it's not completely impossible. Trystane thought, knowing that this was what was being left unsaid by the princess.

Lilyanna stood up, "For now, we should figure out where you're going to be living and-"

"I want to stay here with Lady Mysaria." Trystane quickly said, cutting Lilyanna off.

"You want to stay here?" Lilyanna looked at Trystane and Mysaria suspiciously, wondering what had changed in the last few days.

Trystane nodded, "Lady Mysaria said she can give me work to do, and I want to do it."

"Did she?" Lilyanna narrowed her eyes as she turned to Mysaria.

Mysaria rolled her own eyes, "Trystane was the one who came to me about being given something to do; he doesn't want to feel like he is staying here for free, and I agreed."

"Lady Mysaria works for you, so working for her would let me pay you back for everything you've done for me, Lily," Trystane said, looking up at Lilyanna, his eyes pleading for her approval.

Gods, he reminds me of Aemond; so desperate to prove himself to anyone who would see him. Lilyanna's expression softened despite herself, and she sighed, rubbing the back of her neck. "You don't owe me anything, Trystane. But if this is what you want, if you truly wish to stay here and work, then you can do so; you don't need my approval. Just promise me you'll be careful and that you'll listen to Mysaria."

Relief flooded Trystane's face, "I promise."

Lilyanna turned to Mysaria, but the woman spoke out before she could say anything, "I will watch over him. I would have allowed you to bring Trystane here if I could not accept the risks of doing so."

Mysaria knew that her decision came across as strange to Lilyanna; taking Trystane into her fold was a risk to everything she had built, but it was a risk worth taking. A boy with Valyrian eyes and royal blood, even a drop of it, was a valuable piece on the board.

Lilyanna's jaw tightened, knowing what Mysaria was thinking, "You're not going to use him."

Mysaria tilted her head, smiling faintly, "Use is such a cruel word, little dragon. I prefer to think of it as… ensuring survival. His, mine, and perhaps even yours."

Lilyanna stared at the woman. Mysaria had given her word, but Mysaria's word was never simple and often came with cavoites. But at the moment, Lilyanna had no one else she could trust with Trystane's safety.

Lilyanna turned toward the door, "I'll visit again in a few days. And if anyone comes to bother either of you, send word to me immediately."

"As you command, princess." Mysaria's tone was respectful, though there was amusement laced through it, one that Lilyanna pretended not to hear as she walked away.

Inside, Mysaria watched from the doorway until Lilyanna's figure vanished beyond the fog. She looked down at Trystane, whose wide violet eyes reflected the candlelight like polished glass.

"Come, Trystane," Mysaria said softly, "There is much you can learn about how this city truly breathes."

Trystane followed the spymaster through the candlelit hall, still reeling from everything he had heard that day.

---

Hours Later

"You know, this would be easier for both of us if you just allowed the dragonkeepers to touch you," Lilyanna said as she looked down at her bonded.

Nyx let out a puff of smoke from her maw, choosing to open only one eye as she looked at Lilyanna.

Lilyanna huffed, "You want us to fly together, don't you? Letting the dragonkeepers fit you with a saddle themselves would be the quickest way accomplish this."

The dragon growled, allowing Lilyanna to feel its irritation with the suggestion through their bond, and Lilyanna rolled her eyes as she went back to her task.

Lilyanna knew when returning to King's Landing that her dragon would not embrace the change as seamlessly as the others, but she had underestimated just how stubborn and temperamental they would be.

Nyx had refused to enter the Dragonpit, and nothing that her rider did was able to convince her to, and so the dragon now resided on the rocky cliffside along the city's shores.

It annoyed Lilyanna as she now had to go beyond city gates on horseback just to reach Nyx, but she could not find it within herself to fault the dragon for choosing this area over the Dragonpit. Compared to the nest Nyx had on Dragonstone, the Dragonpit was smaller, filled with humans, and would require Nyx to be chained down and have its movements restricted.

I've always thought that the Dragonpit is too stifling for the development of dragons, and don't Nyx and the other wild dragons prove this? Lilyanna thought.

It did not take much for Lilyanna to convince her parents to allow Nyx to stay on the cliffside. Although Lilyanna assumed this had more to do with the fact that her dragon was so large and violent that nothing short of divine will or physical altercation with either a larger dragon or several dragons together would be able to get Nyx into the pit.

And while the distance between Nyx's new nest and the Dragonpit had prevented any confrontations between dragons, Nyx's new hunting practices were starting to make things difficult for fishermen in the area.

Just yesterday, Nyx had capsized several rowboats when she had flown over the Blackwater and pulled a large whale onto the shore. Lilyanna could only keep her head lowered as the said fishermen had gone to the King about the issue, forcing herself not to look her mother in the eyes, lest Alicent's disappointment physically crush her.

Another problem that came with Nyx's hatred for the Dragonpit and the keepers who resided there was that Lilyanna was forced to take care of all of Nyx's needs on her own, including fitting Nyx for a saddle.

Due to being a wild dragon, Nyx's scales, claws, teeth, horns, and spikes were allowed to grow unimpeded and abundant. The spikes along Nyx's back hindered the placement of a saddle, and when a few of the dragonkeepers suggested cutting them and tried to approach the dragon to do so, Nyx attacked them, leading to two of the dragonkeepers being eaten by the dragon.

The guilt Lilyanna felt over the incident was immense, especially as she had felt the pleasure from Nyx through their bond as this had happened. And it was the first and only time Lilyanna had found herself regretting having been chosen by a dragon known for its violent and cannibalistic behavior.

And now, Lilyanna stood next to her dragon, drenched with sweat, her arms, legs, and back aching from the effort of trying to cut off and sand down Nyx's spike-covered back and neck.

Why do dragons need to have such tough bodies? I feel like I'm going to be middle-aged by the time I'm done with this. Lilyanna had already destroyed several axes, saws, swords, and chisels, and yet she had barely made a dent in Nyx's hide.

The girl exhaled, half in frustration, half in awe, "I'm beginning to understand why it took a Hail Mary shot to the eye from a scorpion to put down Meraxes. You dragons really are impossible."

Dropping the latest ruined tool into the dirt, Lilyanna slumped against her dragon's side, breathing hard. Nyx's great chest rumbled beneath her, a deep, contented sound that made Lilyanna snort. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

Nyx shifted her massive head to glance down at her rider, one slit-pupil eye glowing as the sunlight hit it, and through their bond, Lilyanna felt the faint echo of amusement, defiance, and affection.

Lilyanna rested a hand on Nyx's scales and whispered, "One day, you'll be the death of me."

Nyx rumbled softly in reply, and somewhere deep down, Lilyanna wasn't sure if that was a promise or a warning.

Lilyanna closed her eyes as she leaned against the dragon's body, her thoughts starting to return to everything involving Trystane and the civilian council.

I doubt Viserys is going to want anything to do with Trystane, but I can't be sure that Larys will leave Trystane be, or that there won't be others who will try to turn him into an early version of Daemon Blackfyre. And Mysaria keeping Trystane is definitely not going to help kill the rumors about the civilian council; this, along with fighting against Lyonel publicly, is just going to make them look even more like power-hungry peasants to the city. Well, most of them are power-hungry peasants, but still.

Suddenly, Nyx let out a loud, ground-shaking growl and wrapped its body around Lilyanna protectively.

"Calm, Nyx, calm. What's wrong?" Lilyanna asked as she scrambled to her feet.

Just past the dragon's head, Lilyanna saw the familiar forms of Aegon, Visenya, and Rhaenys standing in front of them. The three did not look afraid; lacking physical bodies gave them this confidence, but even from a distance, she could see the tension in their stances, their hands hanging at their sides, their shoulders taut, and their gazes fixed on Nyx as the dragon's eyes narrowed to slits.

"Seven Hells," Lilyanna muttered, stepping forward and placing a hand against Nyx's flank.

The dragon's body trembled, muscles coiling like drawn bowstrings, smoke curling from her nostrils.

"Nyx, stop." Lilyanna said, her voice calm but firm, "The three of them are no threat to us, I promise."

Nyx's rumbling subsided, although her head remained lowered, and her massive green eyes stayed locked on the trio.

"Wow, for someone who is supposed to be good with dragons, you're doing a piss-poor job of showing it." Lilyanna jumped when she heard Viserra's voice from Nyx's other side.

Nyx immediately turned towards the other ghosts who had arrived, roaring before trying to take a bite out of them. Her muzzle passed through each one of them, but this did not stop the fear that appeared on most of their faces, or the few who screamed and tripped over themselves in a poor attempt to escape the dragon.

Lilyanna could not stop the laugh that escaped her at the sight, laughing even harder when she felt Nyx's disappointment over not being able to eat any of them.

"Really, Viserra?" Alyssa asked, staring at her younger sister, unimpressed.

"That wasn't my fault!" Viserra shrieked.

"W-What are you all doing?" Lilyanna asked as she tried calm down, still laughing as she looked at the group.

"We," Visenya said, waving to herself and her siblings, "Were going to speak to you about an easier method that would allow you to saddle The Cannibal."

"Nyx." Lilyanna corrected without hesitation.

"Yes, yes, Nyx," Visenya said, eyeing the dragon.

Nyx met the elder Targaryen's gaze, baring its teeth at her all the while.

"It's customary to have younger dragons regularly groomed to avoid this very situation. Their scales are far weaker in adolescence than in adulthood and can be more easily harmed by normal weapons and tools, and after some time, their bodies slowly stop growing these sharp barbs." Aegon explained, "But seeing as The-Nyx has gone its entire life without this practice, you will need a far stronger blade than the ones you have used thus far.

"Valyrian Steel," Lilyanna said, knowing what Aegon was alluding to.

The only Valyrian Steel weapons that she knew were currently in King's Landing were Blackfyre, Dark Sister, and the prophecy dagger.

Lilyanna crossed her arms and tilted her head back thoughtfully, "I guess I can ask Viserys if I can use Blackfyre. Aegon's dagger is far too small to be of much use, and there is no way in hell Daemon would let me look at Dark Sister, let alone yield it."

Would Viserys let me use Blackfyre for something like this? I mean, he is a dragon nerd; maybe the prospect of seeing how a dragon's hide can fare against magical steel would be titillating enough for him to say yes.

"Speaking of Viserys, what is to be done about... all of this?" Aemon voiced, a scowl resting on his face at the thought of his Kingly nephew.

Rhaenys let out a snort at the tactless transition, and it reminded her of how her sister would act when her already thin patience had run its course.

Lilyanna looked at the former Crown Prince, "Do you mean what is to be done about Viserys and Trystane, or what is to be done about Viserys in general?"

Aemon did not find the question amusing as his expression darkened.

Lilyanna sighed, scratching the back of her head, "Trystane at the moment is a non-issue, unless he is pushed far enough, Viserys will be content to ignore the consequences of not being able to keep his cock to himself."

As she said this, Lilyanna noticed that Aemma and Daella were the only ghosts who had not taken the opportunity to show themselves. And she could not fault Aemma for not wanting to be more of an active participant than she had to be surrounding Trystane and his origins.

"Wow, how sharp do you think her teeth are?" Lilyanna heard Daenerys ask Viserys as she kneeled in front of Nyx.

Viserys did not respond to his niece's question, looking at the dragon before them with trepidation.

Lilyanna shook her head, returning her attention to the conversation, "The biggest problems will be what Viserys is going to do about Larys and him bringing back Otto as Hand of the King."

"You seem confident that Viserys will choose Otto. Why? Did he not remove and replace your grandfather because he believed that Otto was self-serving and more loyal to his own ambitions than to the realm?" Jocelyn asked, disbelief bleeding into her voice.

Lilyanna gave a bitter laugh, wiping a streak of sweat from her brow, "He did, and then he spent the next ten years proving that he never actually learned anything from it. He did this before, when Lyonel and Harwin died originally in the stor-the past, although this mainly had to do with all the shit that happened during that year. But still, both then and now, Viserys will prefer familiarity in the face of trying times, which is why I'm certain Otto will be returned to the position of Hand, and the deaths of his previous Hand, Commander of the City Watch, and the revelation of a bastard daughter and grandson, will certainly be trying enough for him."

When Jaehaerys called upon Ser Otto Hightower to be his new Hand after Baelon's death, he did so for a multitude of reasons that seemed politically savvy to him at the time.

Otto, being a second son meant that he could focus his full attention on the handship, and at the time, there had not been any Hightower connections with the royal family since Maegor's marriage to Ceryse Hightower, and since the Hightowers were not overlords of one of the Seven Kingdoms, to Jaehaerys this made Otto seem like a politically neutral choice who could arbitrate effectively.

The Hightowers are one of the most powerful of the noble houses in the Reach, in the entire realm, and even amongst them, Otto was already renowned as a man of learning and authority, and he was already well established at court, which proved to be an advantage as Jaehaerys was practically bed-ridden during this time, and Otto was skilled enough to esstientally rule the Seven Kingdoms as Hand in the final two years of Jaehaerys' reign.

And Jaehaerys still stood by this decision, knowing that Otto had been a more than effective administrator when he was alive, but he could not for the life of him wrap his head around the idea that Viserys would reinstate someone whom Viserys had believed had betrayed him.

I still think that Viserys should have listened to Otto about replacing Rhaenyra as heir with Aegon. No matter his guilt over Aemma, Viserys should not allow that to endanger the realm and its peace, and a female heir over a traditional one is simply asking for blood to spill over, for the lords of the realm to use this choice for their own ends. But if he is going to stick to this fallacy, then why bring back a man who made it clear that he does not respect your authority as King? Does Viserys truly believe that Otto has changed? That his ambitions have cooled over the years and that Otto will take no action against Rhaenyra? Jaehaerys thought, feeling the eyes of his eldest son pinned on the back of his head.

"Did Daemon not suggest that Viserys make Rhaenyra his new Hand?" The younger Aegon asked, "It was a sound choice, was it not? To give his heir this position?"

"Viserys still sees Rhaenyra as his little girl; he may trust her with certain duties, but it is unlikely he will choose her over someone like Otto, who is experienced and who can, just as Lyonel Strong did, lessen his burden and help him rule Westeros effectively, especially as Viserys is quick to forgive." The older Aegon explained to his namesake before addressing Lilyanna. "With this, the realm will find itself back under Otto's quiet chokehold, and I doubt he will be happy with what he sees has been done in his absence."

"That would be an understatement." Lilyanna scoffed, imagining just how Otto had been reacting to the news he had undoubtedly been receiving over the years. "But Viserys has surely made his decision and is dragging it out because he knows how most people will react to it. I don't see how I can do anything to change his mind."

Rhaenys inclined her head slightly, "You underestimate your influence, Lilyanna. You speak and act as though your voice carries no weight, when you would not have accomplished half of what you have if this were the case."

"I still think that you are all giving me too much credit, but fine. At the very least, I can try and make sure Larys doesn't get what he wants." Lilyanna muttered before her head snapped towards the eldest Conqueror. "Visenya, you said you wished for me to learn blood magic."

"I did." Visenya said, looking at Lilyanna quizzically, "But you have not shown much interest in it since then."

"If I learned blood magic, can I use it to kill Larys?" Lilyanna asked, a sharp grin slowly appearing on her face.

Lilyanna heard someone choking on air, but she ignored it as she stared at Visenya.

"You could, but it wouldn't be possible for a beginner to do; it would take years for you to reach that type of mastery. And that is to say nothing of the cost that would come with such an action." Visenya explained.

Lilyanna's brow furrowed. "What would be the cost?"

Visenya stared at Lilyanna as if she were slow-minded, "Lilyanna, it is called blood magic for a reason. Do you not remember the altar and the bones you saw when I took you to the ritual chamber?"

"Oh." Lilyanna's eyes widened, and her gaze fell onto the ground.

"And it would not be as simple as killing some poor fool or an animal and using their blood; different people require differing amounts of sacrifice, which is usually dependent on what you plan to use the spell for and on how powerful the individual you are bewitching is. And you certainly would not be able to circumvent the issue by trying to use animals instead of humans, as to take a human life, you must trade in human lives; animal blood would be insufficient."

"Equivalent exchange," Lilyanna muttered.

Visenya nodded, "That would be exactly it."

Baelon looked between the two and asked what most of them were thinking, "Just what in the hells is equivalent exchange?"

"It's one of the prevailing tenets of alchemy, the principle that to gain something, something of equal value must be given or sacrificed in return," Lilyanna explained, glad that she had been a big fan of Fullmetal Alchemist in her first life, along with what she knew of thermodynamics. "It would be like if I lost the use of my legs and then used magic to heal myself; to do so, I would have to give up something like my arms in exchange for it."

"And this is true for all magic and all spells?" Aenys asked, looking at Visenya with a blank expression on his face.

Visenya raised an eyebrow, somewhat surprised that the man was speaking to her, given his current anger at her. "It is."

Aenys' expression hardened, and he glared at the woman, "So when I fell ill, and you took over my care, you murdered innocence to ensure my health improved?"

Visenya was not fazed by the question, "No, I did not."

"Liar!" Aenys roared, "You just said-"

"Were you not listening when Lilyanna and I explained what is required to perform blood magic?" Visenya asked derisively, "A sacrifice of equal value must be given to obtain something. To prevent a dragonrider such as yourself from meeting his natural end, scores of average men would have been needed, I'm sure, to fight against the embrace of death, most of Dragonstone's populace would have needed to die, and why do that when there was a dragonrider such as myself available?"

Aenys' anger gave way to confusion, not understanding what his aunt was saying, "A dragonrider such as yourself? What-"

"When you came to me, the reason your health had improved, before the shock of Crakehall's besiegement did you in, was because I had been giving medicine that I had made with my own blood."

Aenys felt a ripple of disgust through him at the thought of having been ingesting Visenya's blood without his knowledge because of her sorcery, even if it did temporarily benefit him.

"Is that why history says you had quickly grown thin and haggard just before your death, despite having been healthy enough to ride your dragon to battle the year before?" Lilyanna asked, "The blood you gave Aenys, you had shortened your own lifespan to keep Aenys alive longer, didn't you?"

"You shortened your own life for me, but why?" Aenys asked, unable to believe what he was hearing.

Visenya frowned, "Despite what you may think, nephew, I did not wish you dead."

"But you never tried to hide how weak you believed me to be, and you did not believe me to be a good King."

"You weren't a good King." Visenya said bluntly, "But you are the blood of my dear sister and brother, killing you would have been a sin that I could never forgive myself for."

Is that really true? Aenys thought, unable to tell if the woman was lying, his chest tightening as his thoughts raced through his mind.

Lilyanna frowned, "But wait, Aenys died in 42AC and you in 44AC. If you used your own blood to heal Aenys, why did the effects of such magic only show up two years after the fact?"

Visenya's gaze turned distant; her expression unreadable, "Because magic does not end when the act is done, especially when performed between relatives, it lingers and twists. Each draught I gave Aenys took a piece of me, and when he died, that magic turned inward, my body began to unravel from the inside out, and it took two years for death to finish what I had begun."

Silence fell over the group as Visenya's words lingered.

Lilyanna found herself staring at the elder Targaryen woman with uneasy dread. "So that's the price of playing with blood magic? You don't just lose pieces of yourself; you give them away until there's nothing left."

"Precisely, and if you pursue this path, you will find that it always demands more than you think you can give."

And you didn't think of telling me this before you took me to your murder dungeon and had me take that tome? "So, it can be assumed that since Larys Strong is a skinchanger, would require-"

"From what we have seen of Larys, he is a powerful magical being; to kill him would either cost you your own life or greatly shorten it." Visenya's eyes found Lilyanna's again, sharp and knowing, "And we still do not know the effects blood magic would have on someone such as yourself; it would not be a risk worth taking, Lilyanna."

Lilyanna's hands curled into fists at her sides, her nails biting into her palms, and all she felt was frustration. "Fine, no blood magic, then we'll just have to go with my original plan."

Aegon inclined his head slightly, "And what exactly is this plan?"

"Poison," Lilyanna answered.

Aegon did not blink. "Poison?"

"As the Grand Maester, Orwyle has an entire room's worth of tinctures, venoms, and powdered herbs that could kill a grown man before he even realizes he's dying," Lilyanna said, her voice steady and disturbingly casual. "And unlike blood magic, poison doesn't require a sacrifice, only patience and timing."

Several of the ghosts exchanged uneasy looks, but Lilyanna paid more attention to her dragon's reaction, feeling Nyx's surprise and then pleasure as it sensed Lilyanna's bloodlust through their connection and indulged in it.

"It shouldn't be too difficult to get someone to slip anything I give them into Larys' food," Lilyanna said, trying to ignore the worry that appeared within her at the knowledge that she was feeling the same as her cannibalistic dragon as she plotted a man's murder.

Nyx purred as she bumped her head against Lilyanna's side, and Lilyanna absentmindedly started to scratch the side of the dragon's face.

I can't really blame most of this on Nyx; I've been like this for quite some time. Lilyanna thought, wondering at what point she become so comfortable walking hand in hand with death.

---

Three Days Later

Since he learned of Lyonel's death, Viserys had mourned the loss of both a capable and selfless councilor and a man who had grown to be a dear friend.

But he knew that life did not care for the dead, and even in the face of this tragedy, he would have to replace Lyonel, just as he had done with the man's eldest son, reinstating Daemon as Commander of the City Watch.

"Lilyanna, what is this?" Viserys asked, looking down at the parchment that his youngest daughter had given him the moment she entered his bedchamber, his eyes dancing over each name that was listed.

"It's a list of suggestions I made for who I think would make a good Hand of the King," Lilyanna said as she began to rub the bitter-smelling salve onto the stump where his left arm used to be.

This was a regular occurrence between father and daughter, and both had long since moved past the awkwardness that once permeated these examinations. Even the punishment Alicent had given was not enough to deter Lilyanna from checking on him, and Viserys was sure that he would be hearing from his wife about him undermining her, as he had chosen not to send Lilyanna back to her room and call for Orwyle instead.

Viserys stared at Lilyanna dubiously, "Do you even know most of the people on this list?"

"No, but I know of them, father; their skills and exploits have spread and traveled across the realm. And I believe that they would be a good fit for you and the small council." Lilyanna said.

Viserys looked back down at the list, "You put Rhaenyra and Rhaenys on this list as well, and at the very top."

"I believe that Rhaenyra and cousin Rhaenys would both-"

"There has never been a female Hand," Viserys said, surprised by the two choices.

Lilyanna stared at her father blankly, "There has also never been a female heir in Rhaenyra's capacity. If sex dares not bar Rhaenyra from being Princess of Dragonstone, then why should it bar her or Rhaenys from being your Hand?"

The King could not deny his daughter's reasoning and started to think about what Daemon had said when he too made the suggestion of Rhaenyra becoming his new Hand.

Perhaps fresh blood would be for the best, and both Daemon and Lilyanna are right in their assessments, but can I truly make Rhaenyra Hand of the King? This would be more responsibility than I have ever given her; any mistakes she could make would affect the realm and may lead others to believe she is not fit for the throne. Viserys thought.

It was not that he did not trust Rhaenyra, but the possibility that she could fail and that the realm would see this failure terrified him.

Viserys leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples as if the parchment before him had suddenly grown too heavy to look at. "You make convincing arguments, daughter, as you often do, but it is no small thing to be Hand of the King. The weight of the realm could crush even the strongest shoulders."

"Would one not say that being the monarch of Westeros is a far harder job than any position on the small council, the Hand of the King included?" Lilyanna asked, setting down the jar she had been holding. "That is the burden you wish to put on Rhaenyra's shoulders when you are dead and gone, if anything, making my sister Hand would simply be a steppingstone, a learning opportunity she can hold before she ascends the Iron Throne."

Viserys sighed, his gaze distant, shadowed by old regrets, "These decisions are never as simple as they should be."

They are when you stop thinking that they have to please everyone, and when you stop being so passive and afraid of the possibilities. Lilyanna thought.

As Viserys' gaze fell back onto the parchment she had given him, Lilyanna already knew that the decision was already made; he would not choose Rhaenyra or anyone else that she and the small council had suggested.

Instead, Viserys Targaryen would do as he always did, be blinded by his fear of the unknown, and would reach for the familiar.

"Your Grace." Ser Harrold said through the doors, "And aid has been sent, the small council awaits your presence in the Tower of the Hand."

"Thank you, Ser Harrold," Viserys said to his Lord Commander, tiredly pushing himself to his feet.

"I must leave, thank you for the salve, Lilyanna," Viserys said absentmindedly, rolling down his sleeve.

"Great, just fucking great," Lilyanna muttered, glaring at Viserys' back as he left the bedchamber, angry but not surprised by the outcome.

---

Rhaenyra stood on the balcony of her chambers, staring at the horizon as the sun slowly set over the city. Her hands gripped the railing, and she wanted nothing more than to scream, to tell her father that she thought him to be a blind fool, and most of all, ask him why he held so little faith in her.

For days, she had been forced to ignore the whispers that traveled through once news of Trystane began to circulate, to hold her tongue at the looks she had been given, and to say nothing of how Viserys acted as if nothing was happening.

But today's small council meeting had nearly caused Rhaenyra to lose her composure when Viserys announced to everyone that, after some consideration, he had chosen to reinstate Otto Hightower as Hand of the King and would be inviting Otto back to the city.

When the declaration left Viserys' lips, Rhaenyra could feel the eyes of everyone in the room on her, as if waiting to see her explode. The only thing that kept her from doing so had been Daemon's visceral reaction to the news, and he drew attention as he argued with Viserys about this decision.

And Rhaenyra burned inside when Viserys had turned to her after defending his choice to his brother and asked how the preparations for the royal progress to Harrenhal were going.

Rhaenyra did not turn around when she heard the doors to her bedroom open and close, along with the sound of footsteps heading towards her.

"I said I wished to be alone, Laenor," Rhaenyra muttered.

"And my son has respected your wishes," Rhaenys said as she came to a stop next to the younger woman.

Rhaenyra sighed, turning her head to look at Rhaenys, "I wish to be left alone by everyone."

Rhaenys was undeterred, "I understand that these last few days have been troubling-"

Rhaenyra let out a sharp and resentful chuckle, "That would be an understatement, cousin. It is as if my father is doing everything in his power to weaken my position."

"Unfortunately, Viserys does not see his actions as harmful; he truly believes that Otto Hightower will have learned his lesson and will be fine with you ascending the throne," Rhaenys said, shaking her head.

"Because he would rather foolishly refuse to see that man's true nature so long as it means that he can avoid conflict and pretend that all is well and that his word will be adhered to simply because he is King." Rhaenyra finished bitterly, her fingers tightened around the railing until her knuckles turned white.

Why am I not good enough? What must I do for father to see me as capable? Will I always be destined to stand in the shadow of others in my father's eyes? If he has no faith in me, then why make me his heir? Mother… Father killing my mother could not justify this decision, not when he still refuses to listen to me. Rhaenyra thought.

Rhaenys studied Rhaenyra for a moment, "We will need to plan for Otto's arrival, both for what his presence will mean for the court and for the Queen and her children."

"You think Alicent will work with Otto to have Aegon supplant me?" Rhaenyra asked.

"You and Alicent have become closer in recent years, but can you truly say that she will not choose her father and his desires over your past friendship?"

Rhaenyra frowned, "I do, Alicent does not want war, and she knows that bloodshed will follow should she try to place a crown on my brother's head."

Rhaenyra's jaw clenched as she thought about the last true conversation that she and Alicent had, back in Lilyanna's bedchamber.

"And yet she seemed to have no issue with this outcome before, when she spoke ill of you to her supporters, when she and her children dressed in green," Rhaenys said, making Rhaenyra clench her jaw even tighter. "I know that you wish to trust Alicent, to believe that she has changed, but you must not allow yourself to be caught unaware should Alicent fall in line with Otto again."

Rhaenys was not blind to the affection that Rhaenyra held for the Queen, even when the two were actively against each other and had divided King's Landing in swaths of green and black under Viserys' willful blindness.

Rhaenyra's lips parted as if to argue, but no words came; the truth in Rhaenys' warning was a weight pressing down on her chest. She wanted to defend Alicent, to believe that their rekindled friendship had meaning beyond necessity, but deep down, she could already feel the old cracks forming again.

"She wouldn't…" Rhaenyra began, though her voice lacked conviction.

Rhaenys arched a brow, "Otto is no fool; he will whisper, he will charm, and before long, a good portion of the court will shift to his tune. You must be ready when it does. You may be right, perhaps Alicent will not be swayed, and perhaps your siblings will not be either, but you must be ready if the possibility does happen."

Rhaenyra turned away, her eyes glinting with unshed tears as she looked out across the city, watching as the setting sun bathed the rooftops in a fiery glow. "I am tired of having to be ready, cousin. I am tired of waiting for my father's approval, tired of being tested, of being doubted. I am the heir, yet every day I am treated as though I must still prove myself worthy of it. If I were a man, none of this would be necessary; I would be able to look at my brothers wholly without a small nagging voice in the back of my head whispering that they may one day be convinced to betray me."

Rhaenys's gaze softened, but her tone remained firm even as a flicker of sympathy passed through her. "It is unfair, but it is the truth of our world and the hand you have been dealt with."

Rhaenyra let out a trembling breath, a weak smile appearing on her lips, "If your motivation was to make me feel better, I think you are failing."

Rhaenys rolled her eyes, "I am not here to coddle you, Rhaenyra. You do not need comfort; you need clarity, and the path before you will not grow smoother because you wish it so."

Rhaenyra huffed, "I'm well aware of your inability to coddle anyone; you were just the same when Corlys was pushing for Laena to marry my father."

"And I distinctly remember you acting like an arrogant and sullen brat when I was the only one who sought to tell you the truth."

Rhaenyra pursed her lips but did not refute the woman's words, her smile slowly falling, "What if this all is not enough?"

"You will not be fighting alone, Rhaenyra. You have supporters, and I, my children, my husband, and Daemon will be damned before we allow Otto to place his desired heir on the Iron Throne." Rhaenys said fiercely.

Rhaenyra gave Rhaenys a slow nod, "Then let Otto come, let him think he still holds the strings of this court. And when the time comes, I'll, we will, make certain he learns what it means to pull at a dragon's tail."

Approval passed over Rhaenys's face, along with concern.

Neither woman spoke after that, the silence between them stretching as the Red Keep began to light its torches one by one.

Above it all, Rhaenyra stood motionless, her emotions raging within her as she continued to think about the future.

---

Alicent could not stop herself from picking at the tips of her fingers as she paced around her bedroom.

Hearing from her husband that her father would be Hand once again would have felt like a blessing and a sign that propriety and order were returning to King's Landing a few short years ago, but now all she felt was dread.

She thought about what it would be like to see Otto again, how he would interact with her children, how quickly he would try and begin to shape them into extensions of his will, the same way he had once shaped her.

He would remind her of her duty, of the burden she carried for her family, for the realm. And part of her, the frightened, obedient girl she had been, would still want to believe him.

And what of Larys? I know he is the cause of this. I know he had something to do with Lyonel and Harwin's death. Viserys may be fooled, too focused on the revelation of his bastards, but I know better. Alicent thought, her ears ringing from the sound of the frantic beating of her heart.

It should have worried her, angered her to learn about Trystane and his mother; any other woman in her position would be shocked by what they would see as a betrayal and living risk to her children, but Alicent could not find it within herself to care much about it all.

Why would she fear a bastard boy from Flea Bottom with nothing to his name besides a contestable connection to the King? And especially when Viserys seemed content to ignore everything about the boy? Why would she feel betrayed when she was not the wife Viserys was married to when this grievance was committed?

But Lilyanna knew about Trystane, and Larys knew that she knew, and yet I do not know how either came across such information. Once again, her middle child was walking headfirst into danger without any care for her own life.

The Queen felt like everything was slowly crumpling around her, and she did not know what to do to stop it.

"Your Grace," Alicent froze when she heard Criston's voice from outside her chambers. "...Lord Larys is here, and he wishes for an audience with you."

Alicent felt a deep sense of fear blossom within her, and she could only stand there, her breath catching in her throat. The sound of her pulse drowned out everything else, the crackle of the hearth, even Criston's quiet shifting outside her door.

For a moment, she thought about telling Criston to send Larys away, to lie and say that the Queen had retired for the evening, to close her eyes and pretend that the monster lurking at her doorstep would disappear.

But monsters never disappeared, and certainly not ones that she had willingly and foolishly invited into her home after accepting their bargains.

"Send him in." Alicent finally said, her voice trembling despite her efforts to steady it.

Larys Strong entered the room, walking with the same soft, deliberate gait that he always had, his cane tapping rhythmically against the marble floor. He smiled as he met Alicent's gaze, a polite curve of the lips that never reached his eyes.

"Your Grace," Larys said smoothly, inclining his head.

"Lord Larys." Alicent did not return his smile, and she clasped her hands together to keep from fidgeting, her nails digging into her palms. "I must ask why you have sought my presence at such an hour?"

Larys' smile grew, "I wished to give my congratulations privately."

"Your congratulations?" Alicent asked.

"News has spread throughout the Keep about Ser Otto's return to the city, and to the small council." Larys answered, "You must be pleased to have your father's steadfast and dutiful presence guiding the King once more."

Alicent's lips twitched, "Of course I am, what daughter wouldn't be?"

A knowing glint appeared in Larys' eye, one that made Alicent want to shiver in disgust, "I felt the same when my own father was made Hand of the King after Ser Otto's untimely and sudden removal."

Alicent clenched her fists tightly as Larys spoke, unnerved by how happy Larys was as he spoke about the father he helped murder.

"My father had been surprised when the King had placed that pin on his surcoat," Larys said with a laugh. "He has always served the realm with loyalty and wisdom, qualities that seem to have become rare of late. Rare virtues indeed, though I've always found that such words depend entirely on who is speaking them."

Alicent's gaze hardened, "Was there something else you wished to discuss, Lord Larys?"

"As I said, Your Grace, I had wished to-"

"I have grown tired of this game, my lord, so speak of what you truly wish to."

Larys chuckled, a low and quiet sound that sent a chill crawling down Alicent's spine, "I did not mean to be so impolite. I came only to remind you that, in these shifting times, the good ones are not so easily found and can be so easily shattered."

"I have no alliances with you," Alicent said sharply.

"But we once did, my Queen. You used to come to me when you realized just how unsafe you and yours were so long as Princess Rhaenyra was allowed to remain heir to the throne. That she would ruin the realm and be forced to put your children to the sword."

Alicent hated how the image of Rhaenyra, panting, her eyes blown out as she stared at Alicent with unadulterated lust, and her lips slowly starting to bruise from the force of the kiss Alicent had given her, quickly appeared in her mind.

She hated how confusing everything had felt since that night on Dragonstone, hated how once again Rhaenyra Targaryen held the power to drive her utterly insane with just a thought.

"And I have told you that I no longer require your particular services. So, your previous actions were unwarranted."

"What previous actions would those be?" Larys asked.

Alicent did not respond, staring at the man uncomfortably.

Larys smile grew wider, delighting in the state that was Alicent in, "All I have done has been in service of you, my Queen."

"How can you say that?" Alicent asked, horrified, "I did not ask you to do this, I did not ask you to murder…"

Larys waited to see if Alicent would be able to say it, would be able to acknowledge the role she played, no matter how small, in his decision.

Larys sighed when Alicent remained silent, a bit disappointed by how quickly Alicent's anger died down and was replaced by fear.

One of many differences between mother and daughter, if I were speaking to Lilyanna, she would have immediately asked why, perhaps she would have started to threaten me. Larys thought.

The new lord of Harrenhal finally decided to speak plainly, "My brother and my father are people, connections that have held me back, that have blinded me to the truth. That is why I had no choice but to get rid of them, and I know you must feel the same about the princess-"

"I am nothing like you, Larys." Alicent hissed, and Larys thought that Alicent never looked more beautiful than when she let the mask of a proper lady fall away to reveal the angry and spiteful woman underneath. "And I never will be. The fact that you thought so only proves how delusional and insane you are.

"What evidence will you have to prove my involvement?" Larys asked, still smiling at Alicent, "Your word? Perhaps that may be enough for some, but not all. And I think many would be hesitant to do so should they learn about the nature of this arrangement."

Alicent's eyes widened, "I-"

"I wonder how the court, the small council, your father, your husband, your stepdaughter would look at you when they learn just how much you debased yourself for the information that I had given you over the years? When they learn what your actions with me, in the dead of night, alone in your bedchamber, were truly for?"

Alicent's breathing quickened, her chest rising and falling as if she'd been struck. Her nails dug crescents into her palms, drawing faint blood that she barely felt.

"You wouldn't dare," Alicent whispered, though her voice trembled, and both she and Larys knew how hollow the threat sounded.

Larys tilted his head, the soft light of the hearth dancing across his face, highlighting the faint smile that curved his lips. "Wouldn't I? My Queen, you mistake me for a man with shame to lose, who is not ready to gamble his life away in the pursuit of what he wants."

He took a single step forward, and Alicent found herself stepping back, her spine pressing against the edge of the table behind her.

"I have no interest in ruining you." Larys continued, his tone calm and almost kind, "But I would hate to see all that you've built, your children, your reputation, your very legacy, crumble because of a... misunderstanding between friends."

"Friends," Alicent repeated bitterly, the word tasting like ash on her tongue.

"Of course." Larys said, a cold and satisfied expression forming on his face, "After all, only a friend would keep your secrets so well. Just as I know you will keep mine."

She wanted to scream, to claw out Larys' smug and disgusting eyes from his head, but Alicent could only stand there in shock.

Larys bowed slightly, the movement both elegant and mocking all at once, "Sleep peacefully, Your Grace. I imagine you'll need your rest in the coming days."

With that, he turned, cane tapping softly against the marble as he left her chambers, and when the door shut behind him, Alicent sank to her knees.

Her breath came in short, uneven gasps as tears burned at the corners of her eyes, spilling freely down her cheeks. Her trembling hands roughly pressed against the cold floor, and the sting of her broken skin grounded her as she tried to calm herself.

The chamber felt suffocatingly small now; its silence was louder than Larys's words had been. Every flicker of firelight seemed to mock her, casting long, distorted shadows on the walls, twisting into shapes that looked like hands reaching for her throat as she was consumed by despair.