The words struck Father like a physical blow. The fiery retort died on his tongue, silenced by the cold logic of the Archmaester.
"Vaegon is right, Baelon," Grandfather spoke, his voice cutting through the heavy silence. "In order to protect this realm and keep it united, you cannot elude the responsibility placed upon your shoulders. You will be King, and Viserys will follow after you. I will not hear another argument against my decisions." Grandfather forced Father to sit back down using nothing but a withering glare.
The King then focused his intense gaze upon Vaegon. "And no, Vaegon, I will not sideline Viserys simply because Daemon may possess a fleeting chance of forging an alliance with the Imperium. I concede that a power of their scale makes me wary, but the fact of the matter remains: the Emperor is not currently concerned with Westeros. To him, we are just another trading partner, a distant kingdom an ocean away. Until he is the absolute hegemon of Essos, he will never turn his conquering eyes toward our shores. He can strike us personally, yes, but only if we give him reason to."
"Father, are you advocating that we do nothing at all?" Father asked, his anger still simmering dangerously close to the surface.
"No. I am asking you to focus your energy on matters we can actually control, rather than obsessing over forces entirely out of our hands," the King stated firmly. "You must teach this Valyrian Blood Oath to myself and Viserys. It will prove exceptionally useful to us. Furthermore, I believe your suggestion to seek out Maegon's Vault is a sound one. Unearthing our lost knowledge is the crucial first step toward understanding and countering the arcane power of the Imperium. Return to Dragonstone once you have settled your affairs here and begin the search immediately."
"Now, leave me be. I have much to think upon," Grandfather motioned dismissively, pushing himself up from the armchair and walking slowly toward his bed. He paused, looking back over his shoulder. "Vaegon. I hope you decide to stay in the capital for a while longer. Your counsel will be most beneficial in the coming times."
Uncle offered a stiff nod. We all bowed deeply before turning and leaving the King's chambers.
Once we reached the shadowed corridor outside, Father placed a heavy arm upon my shoulder. "Be careful not to reveal the talks we had inside to anyone. And have supper with me tonight, Viserys. We still have much to discuss."
I forced a calm smile. "I shall see you in the evening, Father."
…
The heavy oak doors of my chambers yielded to the Kingsguard, and I stepped across the threshold, leaving the suffocating tension of the King's solar behind. The air inside my rooms was a stark contrast, thick with the comforting scents of spun sugar, burning beeswax, and crushed lavender.
Aemma sat upon the cushioned seats near the hearth, surrounded by a flutter of maids and ladies-in-waiting. Yet the centre of their attention was down upon the floorboards.
Rhaenyra sat on the Myrish carpet, her tiny fingers fiercely gripping a wooden dragon painted entirely black. With a joyful, toothless shriek, she slammed the carved beast down upon a cluster of wooden knights, scattering the painted figurines across the woven wool.
Aemma laughed. She turned to murmur a jest to Lady Elinda, who knelt beside her holding a silver goblet of watered wine.
Then, the laughter died. Aemma caught sight of me standing in the doorway. She rose immediately, her skirts of pale blue silk rustling sharply against the floor. Lady Elinda followed suit, hastily setting the goblet aside upon a side table and dipping into a deep curtsy.
"Viserys," Aemma said. Her lilac eyes swept over my posture, instantly reading the exhaustion dragging at my shoulders and the tight coil of my jaw. The welcoming smile vanished from her lips, replaced by a sharp, perceptive focus. "What has happened? Where is Daemon?"
I did not answer her immediately. I looked toward the cluster of servants. "Leave us. All of you."
The women did not hesitate. A nursemaid swooped down and scooped Rhaenyra into her arms. My daughter let out a disgruntled wail at being parted from her wooden dragon, but the maid hushed her quickly, carrying the struggling infant through the side doors toward the nursery. The rest of the retinue filed out with bowed heads, pulling the heavy doors shut behind them.
The sudden quiet of the room rang in my ears. The blood rush that had sustained me through the Great Hall and the King's solar evaporated, leaving a hollow ache deep within my bones. I crossed the floor, my boots feeling as heavy as lead, and collapsed into the high-backed chair beside the window. Outside, the sky was bruised with the purples and greys of twilight. The waters of Blackwater Bay looked cold and unforgiving.
Aemma walked over quietly. She pulled a velvet stool close to my chair and sat, placing a warm, steady hand over my knuckles.
"Tell me," she urged softly.
I closed my eyes, letting the heat of her skin anchor me. "He lives. Daemon is alive, Aemma. But he has not returned with Father."
She let out a long breath she had clearly been holding. "Thank the gods. Where is he?"
"He is a prisoner of the Imperium. Sentenced to three moons of hard labour in the ruins of Qohor," I explained, the words tasting like ash on my tongue. "The Iron Throne must pay three hundred and fifty thousand Swarnas to secure his eventual release, and we must formally recognize their conquest of the free city."
Aemma frowned, her thumb tracing the line of my knuckles. "That is a staggering ransom, but it is coin the treasury can spare. If he is safe, and the throne is willing to pay, then why do you look as though the Red Keep is about to collapse upon our heads?"
I turned to face her. "Because the gold is merely a formality. Aemma, Father and Uncle Vaegon saw the Emperor. They stood in his presence." I lowered my voice, fearful the very stones of the keep might listen. "The man is a sorcerer. He defeated the Qohorik deity at the very least father and Daemon believe he did. He incapacitated Caraxes with a mere wave of his hand and bent Father and Vaegon to the floor without ever touching them."