King's Landing. The Red Keep.
It was already late at night. In the corridors of the Red Keep, only the torches burned.
When Aemond entered, he was soaked through, his long silver hair plastered to his face, his dense silver armor scorched and stained with dragon's blood. Aemond walked slowly. Each step was heavy.
Vhagar was wounded, and Lothron was wounded, but they could still fly. As he rode on the dragon's back, only one thought filled his mind: Rhaenyra was alive. He had destroyed Dragonstone castle, killed hundreds of people, killed Rhaenys, but the source of the trouble—Rhaenyra—was still alive. She lived. She rode Syrax. He could have caught up. But Daemon had come, Silverwing had come, and Vermithor had come. He could only leave.
---
Alicent paced back and forth in the hall of the Red Keep. She had waited all night. From yesterday until now. She did not know what she was waiting for, but she could not sleep, could not sit still—she simply had to walk here.
Aelinor was there too. The queen sat on a chair, pale, her hands over her belly. She said nothing, but her eyes were fixed on the door.
Helaena was not there. She was pregnant, and Alicent had asked her to rest first.
Footsteps sounded.
Alicent looked up at the newcomer.
"Aemond!"
The Queen Mother hurried to him, examined her son from head to toe, saw the dragon's blood on his body, his wet hair, the exhaustion on his face. Her heart tightened.
"Are you wounded? How are you?"
"Rhaenys is dead," Aemond answered calmly.
Alicent was stunned.
"What?"
"Rhaenys," Aemond repeated. "My aunt. She is dead. I killed her."
Alicent's hand slowly lowered. She looked at her son, her eyes complex as a deep pool.
"Rhaenys..." she murmured. "She was your own aunt..."
Aemond did not speak. He simply stood there.
Aelinor rose from her chair and approached. Her face was even paler than Alicent's; in her eyes were fear, anticipation, and too much else.
"Aemond," she said, her voice trembling slightly, "where is Aegon? Has Aegon returned to you?"
Aemond glanced at the queen. "Aegon?" He frowned. "Is he not in King's Landing?"
Alicent and Aelinor were both stunned.
At that moment, time seemed to stop.
"He... he also rode to Rook's Rest," Alicent said, her voice slightly drifting. "He led an expedition. He said he wanted to fight alongside you."
Aemond's face changed abruptly.
Silence. Dead silence.
"What did you say?" His voice was very low, so low it was chilling.
"He went to Rook's Rest..." Alicent repeated, her voice trembling. "He left yesterday morning, riding Sunfyre. He said he would fight alongside you..."
Aemond drew a deep breath and closed his eyes.
After a few seconds, he opened his eyes and looked out the window. Beyond the window was King's Landing under curfew; the dark night showed him nothing.
"I did not go to Rook's Rest," he said.
Alicent did not understand.
"I went to Dragonstone," Aemond said flatly. "I had Lothron circle over Rook's Rest to draw their attention. I took Vhagar to raid Dragonstone."
He paused.
"Aegon was not in my plans."
Alicent's face went completely white.
"Then... what of Aegon?" Aelinor's voice rose sharply, cutting through the silence. "Where is Aegon?"
Aemond was silent for a moment.
Images flashed through his mind. The sky over Rook's Rest—Rhaenys's and Daemon's dragons, and the poor golden dragon Sunfyre struggling helplessly under the attack of two dragons.
"If he went to Rook's Rest," Aemond answered calmly, "then he faced Daemon and Rhaenys."
Aelinor covered her mouth.
"Two dragons," Aemond continued. "Sunfyre could not defeat Meleys, let alone Caraxes."
He paused.
"He may be dead. He may be..."
"No!"
Queen Aelinor roared, a heart-rending sound. She held her belly and staggered back against the wall. Tears welled in her eyes like a river bursting its banks, unstoppable.
"Impossible... impossible... he cannot die..."
She sat on the floor, covering her face with her hands, her whole body trembling.
Alicent stood motionless, trembling all over.
She remembered that before her eldest son Aegon the Second left, she had asked him: "Why must you go?"
Aegon had answered: "It was my own decision. It has nothing to do with Aemond."
Her eldest son's eyes had been so bright, so determined. It was the first time Alicent had felt that this useless eldest son, who drank and whored all day, had finally begun to look like a king.
She should have been happy for him.
She should have supported him.
She should have stopped him.
She should have desperately stopped him.
But she had not.
"It is my fault..." Queen Mother Alicent murmured, tears streaming. "It is my fault... I should have stopped him... I should have..."
Aemond looked at Alicent with complicated eyes.
"Mother."
Alicent looked at him through her tears.
"I did not know he was leaving," Aemond said, his voice remaining calm. "I told him to stay in King's Landing."
Alicent stared at him.
Anger, but also guilt—the instinct to find someone to bear this pain.
"Why did you not make him understand?" Her voice became sharp, like a knife. "Why did you not tell him you were going to Dragonstone? If you had told him, he would not have gone to Rook's Rest! This is all your fault!"
Aemond was silent for a moment, then said calmly, "He made his own decision. Now he will pay for it."
"He is your brother!"
"He is a fool."
Queen Mother Alicent was stunned.
"What did you say?"
"I said," Aemond spoke word by word, "he is a fool."
Alicent trembled with rage. She ran forward and raised her hand, trying to slap him.
Aemond caught his mother's wrist. He looked at her quietly.
Her hand stopped in mid-air.
Alicent looked into his eyes, looked at his wet, wounded face, and said in a trembling voice, "Did you do this to your brother? He may be dead, and you speak like this?"
Aemond looked at her calmly.
"I never asked him to come. I told him to stay in King's Landing. I told him not to fight."
The Queen Mother was stunned.
"He wanted to go himself," Aemond continued calmly. "He wanted to lead the expedition himself. He wanted to die himself."
He paused.
"Now you blame me?"
The Queen Mother opened her mouth but was speechless. She could not blame Aemond—it was her fault...
Tears streamed down her face.
Aelinor wept in the corner, sobbing from time to time.
---
Footsteps sounded at the door.
Helaena entered. She wore a robe, her belly swollen, her face pale. She had clearly been woken—or had not slept at all—and had heard everything while hiding behind the door.
She walked step by step toward Aemond.
She reached out and gently embraced him.
Her hands trembled.
Aemond went still. He felt her heartbeat, fast and strong, through her swollen belly and his wet clothes.
He raised his hand and patted her back.
"I am fine," he said quietly.
Helaena buried her face in his chest, tears soaking his clothes. She did not cry aloud; she simply trembled, simply held him, held him tightly.
She was afraid of losing him.
"If they want to hate me, let them hate me," Aemond said. "I do not care."
Helaena said nothing, only held him tighter.
Alicent looked at them, and a strange feeling suddenly rose in her heart.
She had two sons.
One might be dead.
One stood here, covered in blood and exhausted.
Whom could she blame? Whom could she accuse?
Both were her sons.
She had borne them. She had raised them.
Then Aemond released Helaena and turned toward the door.
"Aemond," she said hoarsely, "where are you going?"
"To see if that fool is dead or not."
Alicent stepped forward. "Wait."
Aemond stood still, not looking back.
Alicent looked at him, wanting to say something, but hesitating.
"Rhaenys..." she finally said, her voice very soft. "She was your aunt. You may think killing bastards does not count as kinslaying, but now the Seven Kingdoms call you kinslayer. The lords will hate you..."
Aemond turned his head and looked at her.
He knew this mother believed in the Seven.
He laughed. It was not mockery, not a bitter smile—in this smile was weariness, helplessness, and an indescribable pride.
"Mother," he said, "I am a Targaryen."
Alicent was stunned.
"Targaryen," Aemond repeated. "If my hands are not stained with blood, how can I let Aegon sit firmly on the Iron Throne?"
Alicent opened her mouth but was speechless.
Aemond turned and continued toward the door.
"Aemond!"
It was Helaena.
She caught up to him and took his hand.
Aemond turned.
Helaena looked at him with tear-filled eyes and desperately shook her head. Her voice trembled like a fallen leaf in the wind.
"Do not go... please... I am afraid..."
Aemond looked at her.
Looked at her swollen belly, where their child grew.
Looked at the tears on her face in the candlelight of the corridor, glistening.
He was silent for a while.
Then he reached out and gently wiped the tears from her face.
"I am sorry," he said.
Helaena stared at him.
"I cannot turn back," Aemond said. "I will do everything I can to win this war. Even if I die... I must."
He paused.
"I promise you."
He gently released her hand and turned to walk out the door.
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