Outside the Hall of Visenya, layers of troops already stood in formation.
A large number of royal soldiers guarded the perimeter, while Aemond's personal guards stood inside the hall. Every one of them had a sword at the waist, a hand resting on the hilt, their eyes sharp with vigilance.
The nobles who had come to witness the ceremony were subjected to strict inspection. Weapons had to be left outside, and attendants were limited to no more than two.
"What is this supposed to be?" a young noble muttered under his breath. "The king's barely dead, and they're rushing the coronation already?"
"Watch your tongue," the older noble pulled his heir back. "Don't cause trouble today."
"Or I'll break your legs."
The young noble bristled, still wanting to say more.
Then he noticed the gaze from Hall on the platform. The look alone made him shut his mouth obediently.
He didn't dare offend Hall, that "mudfoot."
Among the King's Landing nobles who served the royal family, they all secretly referred to the three common-born youths raised by Prince Aemond as "mudfoots," even after they had been granted noble titles.
Inside the hall, everything had already been arranged.
The platform stood several meters high, draped in black velvet.
Atop it rested a crown set with rubies. The original Valyrian steel crown—the Conqueror Aegon's crown—had been stolen by Orwyle.
This one was the crown of Queen Visenya from a hundred years ago, no less magnificent.
They had no choice but to use it for the coronation.
Aemond stood at the side of the platform, Blackfyre hanging at his waist.
Hall stood quietly behind him, scanning the surroundings with alert eyes.
Tella slipped in through the back door and spoke in a low voice, "My prince, everything has been arranged."
"Our men are outside. Every attendant has been thoroughly checked."
"As for the High Septon… he demands that once Aegon is crowned, King Aegon must immediately sign a document confirming the Faith's privileges."
"I know," Aemond nodded.
Once all this was over, he would settle accounts with the Faith and the Citadel—slowly.
From outside came the sound of horns, three long blasts. The royal procession had arrived.
The doors opened.
Everyone turned solemnly to look.
Queen Dowager Alicent entered first, dressed in black, a veil over her head.
Behind her came Helaena, also veiled in black, and Alyn in the robes of a queen.
Then came the members of the Small Council—Tyland, Larys, Jasper, Elwyn, Will—all in formal attire.
Finally, the High Septon made his entrance.
He wore ornate robes, a crystal seven-pointed star gleaming on his chest.
Two acolytes followed behind him, one carrying the holy oil, the other bearing the crown.
Whispers rippled through the crowd.
"Silence!" Criston Cole roared.
The Kingsguard and soldiers echoed in unison, "Silence!"
The hall quickly fell quiet.
Tyland Lannister stepped before the platform, drew a deep breath, and shouted with all his strength:
"People of King's Landing!"
"Our beloved king, Viserys I!"
"Your father!"
"Has been treacherously poisoned!"
"This is a day of deepest sorrow!"
"But today is also a day of great celebration!"
"The eldest son appointed by the late king!"
"Aegon Targaryen!"
"Will inherit the throne! Will inherit the Iron Throne!"
Applause broke out—scattered at first, then gradually growing louder.
Suddenly, the Royal Guard poured in from a side door, forming a wall of men and clearing a path to the platform.
They shoved aside commoners who stood in the way.
Hundreds of guards formed a corridor of steel.
"Move!"
"Out of the way!"
"Don't block the path!"
At the front, Gwayne Hightower shouted, "Raise swords!"
All the guards in position lifted their swords.
The heavy horns sounded again within the hall.
Aegon entered through the side door.
He had discarded his cane—he would not let the world see his weakness.
Each step brought searing pain, but he clenched his teeth, head held high, walking step by step toward the platform under the gaze of all.
As he passed, the guards on both sides lowered their swords.
Tyland continued shouting, "Bear witness to the coronation of your new king!"
"It is your great honor!"
"Today marks a new era for our city!"
"And a new era for the realm!"
At last, Aegon reached the platform.
Alicent stepped forward, cupped her son's face, and kissed his forehead gently.
A blessing.
Below, the guards sheathed their swords.
The hall fell utterly silent.
Aegon dropped to both knees.
The High Septon stepped forward.
An acolyte handed him the vessel of holy oil.
"In the name of the Father, I grant you the power of judgment."
He dipped his thumb into the oil and marked Aegon's forehead.
"In the name of the Mother, I grant you a heart of mercy."
"In the name of the Warrior, I grant you the strength of courage."
"In the name of the Maiden, I grant you the purity of soul."
"In the name of the Smith, I grant you the power to create."
"In the name of the Crone, I grant you the eye of wisdom."
"In the name of the Stranger…" The High Septon hesitated briefly, "…I grant you the courage to accept your fate."
Seven anointings left a gleaming sheen of oil across Aegon's brow.
On the platform, Alicent wept.
Helaena clasped her hands in prayer.
Alyn's eyes shone.
Aemond watched it all without expression.
The anointing complete.
An attendant presented the crown.
The High Septon took it with both hands and raised it high for all to see—the crown, entwined with dragon shapes, rubies gleaming as their eyes.
"Aegon Targaryen," the septon's voice echoed through the hall, "do you swear, in the name of the Seven, to rule the Seven Kingdoms, protect your people, uphold the laws, and defend the Faith?"
Aegon opened his eyes.
He parted his lips, his throat dry.
All was silent below.
Every gaze fixed upon the king-to-be.
Aegon drew a deep breath and answered loudly, "I swear!"
"Do you swear to judge with fairness, to show mercy to your people, to stand bravely against your enemies, and to protect the weak and the young?"
"I swear!"
"Do you swear to be loyal to the Seven, to defend the Faith, and to preserve the purity of the Seven's worship across the realm?"
This part had been added by the septon himself.
It had not been in the original oath.
Aegon hesitated, then looked up at Aemond.
Aemond gave a slight nod.
"I… swear," Aegon said.
The High Septon was satisfied.
He lowered the crown and placed it slowly upon Aegon's head.
"Then, in the name of the Seven, I proclaim: Aegon Targaryen II, King of the Seven Kingdoms, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men! Protector of the Realm!"
The High Septon lightly tapped Aegon's shoulder, signaling him to rise.
Aegon stood.
He first looked at those upon the platform.
All the lords and his mother Alicent bowed their heads to him.
When his gaze met Aemond's, Aemond also inclined his head slightly in respect.
Then Aegon turned, facing the entire hall.
He drew the ornate sword at his waist and raised it high.
The crowd erupted in thunderous cheers: "King Aegon!"
"Aegon II!"
"Long live the king!"
"Bread! Bread!"
Aegon spread his arms and closed his eyes, letting the roar of the crowd wash over him.
In that moment, the pain in his leg seemed to fade, and the fear in his heart receded.
For the first time, he felt like a true king.
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