81 AC, Fifth Moon
A loud, vigorous cry rang out through the Red Keep as House Targaryen welcomed another new member into the world.
This time the mother was Princess Alyssa, wife of Prince Baelon.
It was their second child—four years after the birth of their firstborn son, Viserys.
The moment the midwives finished cleaning the room and opened the door, Baelon charged inside like a man possessed.
He dropped to one knee beside the birthing bed, gently took his wife's limp hand, and pressed it to his cheek.
"Alyssa… you did it again. You've given me another son. Was it very painful, my love?"
Alyssa managed a tired smile and gave his fingers a weak squeeze.
"It's a boy," Queen Alysanne announced from the side of the room, cradling the freshly swaddled infant. She studied the tiny face with a grandmother's practiced eye. "The family's about to get a lot louder."
Alyssa shifted against the pillows, eyes bright despite her exhaustion. "Bring him here. I want to see him."
Baelon rose at once and carefully took the baby from his mother's arms. The once-clumsy new father of four years ago now moved with confident ease.
Queen Alysanne and King Jaehaerys exchanged a quiet, proud glance. Their "Spring Prince" had become a proper father.
Alyssa, propped up by the maids, reached out and took her newborn son. The baby waved his tiny fists energetically, full of life.
"This one's much livelier than Viserys," she laughed softly. "When Viserys was born he was so quiet—except when he was hungry. He was almost like a little girl."
The whole room burst into laughter.
Gaemon grinned. "Don't say that. Viserys is just calm. He's got plenty of dragon courage when he needs it."
"But this little fellow really is full of fire," Alysanne added, smiling. "Few babies come into the world with this much spirit. He's going to be a bold knight one day."
Baelon puffed out his chest, beaming with fatherly pride. "Of course he is! Look who his father is. How could my son lack courage or strength?"
Aemon smirked and raised an eyebrow. "Now that the boy's here, have you chosen a name? If not, I can help you think of one."
Baelon's grin turned mischievous. "No need to trouble yourself, big brother. I've already decided. His name will be Daemon."
He paused for dramatic effect, then laughed loudly. "We already have Aemon and Gaemon in this generation. The next one needs a Daemon to keep things balanced, don't you think?"
The moment the words left his mouth, Aemon and Gaemon locked eyes.
"Get him!"
Like two hunting cats, the brothers lunged at Baelon.
Baelon, who had clearly been expecting it, bolted sideways with a whoop. The three grown dragonriders immediately turned the birthing chamber into a chaotic playground, chasing and wrestling like children.
Alyssa, still cradling the baby, sat up straighter and started shouting directions with gleeful energy. "Left, Baelon! Duck! Gaemon's coming from behind!"
The maids and servants quickly pressed themselves against the walls, giving the royal siblings plenty of room to romp.
King Jaehaerys and Queen Alysanne stood back, watching the scene with warm, indulgent smiles. Neither made any move to stop the mayhem.
The playful brawl only ended when Alyssa let out a sudden hiss of pain.
Hearing his wife, Baelon instantly froze. Aemon and Gaemon released him at once. His silver hair was now a wild mess, but he rushed back to the bedside, face tight with worry.
"Alyssa? What's wrong? Where does it hurt?"
"It's nothing… I just moved too suddenly and pulled the stitches."
Alysanne stepped forward with a woolen cloth and gently dabbed the sweat from her daughter-in-law's brow.
"You never did anything gently—even giving birth," the Queen scolded fondly. "Now you know what pain feels like. Too late for regrets."
Alyssa gave her mother a sheepish grin. "I'm a mother of two now. You still treat me like a little girl."
Jaehaerys moved closer and carefully took the baby from Alyssa's arms. He studied the infant with solemn affection.
The swaddling silk had slipped down, revealing the baby's upper body. Tiny arms waved energetically, skin pale as fresh milk. A few wisps of silver hair clung to his forehead.
Even with his eyes still closed, the unmistakable Valyrian features were already there. This boy would grow into a handsome prince.
"Daemon," the King murmured. "A fine name. May you grow as strong and loyal as your elders before you, and help guard this family for many years to come."
As if answering his grandsire's blessing, the newborn opened his mouth and let out a loud, fierce cry—clear, strong, and full of promise.
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