The aftermath of the Driftmark banquet left the Red Keep smelling of rain and old secrets. While the halls of the castle were quiet, the air in the King's solar was thick with the scent of Rhaenyra's desperation.
"Father," she whispered, her voice trembling as she sat beside the increasingly frail Viserys. Tears, practiced or genuine, tracked lines through her powdered cheeks. "I cannot bear it. Perhaps you should never have named me. Aegon... he is not the brother I knew."
Viserys, whose heart was a bruised fruit easily squeezed by his daughter's touch, sighed heavily. He wiped her tears with a shaky hand. "Aegon is headstrong, and I underestimated his bond with Helaena. But he has sworn he will not seize your crown. I will settle him, Rhaenyra. I will grant him lands far from the capital—perhaps in the Reach or the Stepstones—to keep him from the center of gravity. As long as I draw breath, your claim is iron."
But while the King made promises in the dark, Aegon was carving his signature into the light of the Council Hall.
Half a month later, the power dynamic of the Seven Kingdoms reached a tipping point. Viserys had officially announced the betrothal of Aegon and Helaena—a move meant to appease the Greens, but one that Aegon used as a springboard to seize the city's throat.
Inside the Council Chamber, the small jade spheres of office rested on the table. Jasper Wylde, the Lord of the Law (pointedly nicknamed "Ironrod" for his unyielding nature), looked at Aegon with a nod of cold respect.
"Ser Harwin Strong has officially vacated his post," Jasper announced. "As per the Prince's recommendation, Ser Gwayne Hightower is hereby appointed Commander of the City Watch."
The room went silent. The City Watch—the Gold Cloaks—was the only standing military force in King's Landing. By placing his uncle Gwayne at its head, Aegon had effectively seized the city's gates and its walls.
"This is an outrage!" Lyman Beesbury, the elderly Master of Coin, slammed his hand on the table. "Ser Gwayne is the Queen's brother! This appointment is irregular, nepotistic, and dangerous!"
Aegon leaned back, a faint, mocking smile playing on his lips. He surveyed the table. The Small Council was no longer a balanced body; it was becoming a Green fortress. The Hand of the King, Lyonel Strong, was conspicuously absent. The Lord of the Law, the Master of Ships, and the Lord Commander were all firmly in the Green camp.
"Irregular?" Tyland Lannister spoke up, his golden Lannister sigil gleaming. "The City Watch falls under the jurisdiction of the Lord of the Law. Lord Jasper has made his choice. Ser Gwayne is a proven knight, unlike the 'Breaker of Bones' who spent more time in the Princess's chambers than on the battlements."
Tyland's brother, Jason, ruled the West, and the Lannisters had long since decided that their gold was better spent backing the King's eldest son than a controversial princess.
Lyman Beesbury turned purple. "The City Watch is loyal to the Crown, not to the Lord of the Law's whims! Ser Lyonel Ryk was the rightful successor. You've sent a veteran to guard the dungeon gates just to make room for a Hightower!"
"I wonder, Lord Lyman," Aegon said, his voice dropping to a dangerous, silken register. "What exactly do you mean by 'loyal to the Crown'? Are you implying that I, the King's eldest son, am not the Crown?"
Clang.
Before the old man could respond, Criston Cole drew his longsword halfway from its sheath. The rasp of steel on scabbard echoed like a death knell. "Questioning royal blood is treason, Lord Beesbury," Criston hissed.
"Put it away, Ser Criston," Aegon waved a hand dismissively. "Lord Lyman is seventy-one. Perhaps his eyes are failing. Lord Lyman, look closely: silver hair, purple eyes. I am a Dragon. I am not a brown-haired 'Strong' boy who needs a protector to hide his true face."
The insult was naked and brutal. Aegon wasn't just defending his uncle; he was reminding the Council that he knew exactly who the bastards in the family were.
"I have never questioned your blood, Highness!" Lyman sputtered. "But the King has not approved this! You are abusing your position while Lord Lyonel is absent!"
"Then let us take it to the King," Aegon said, standing up. "But I suspect my father will be quite pleased to know the city is finally in capable, loyal hands. Jasper, see to the commissions. Tyland, let's discuss the harbor fees. Lord Lyman... try not to let the numbers confuse you in your old age."
As Aegon walked out, flanked by the "Kingmaker" Criston Cole, he knew the pieces were almost all in place. He had the Gold Cloaks. He had the Lannister gold. He had the Baratheon steel through Jasper Wylde.
All that remained was the Master of Whisperers. And for that, he had a certain "Clubfoot" waiting in the wings.