Game of Thrones: The King of Bronze and Fire

The Next Morning

The early spring air was crisp and cool as a white royal carriage rolled along the packed dirt road.

Ahead of it, the Kingsguard rode white steeds to clear the path, while the royal guard followed close behind. Dust rose in swirls along the long, winding route.

"Yaaaawn~ So sleepy…"

Aemon lay sprawled across a pair of soft, bouncy thighs, rubbing his tired eyes, which were shadowed with dark circles.

"You even had your beloved blanket and pillow," Alicent chided him with a smile, her fingers playfully pinching his chubby cheeks. "How could you possibly lose sleep?"

Inside the spacious carriage, Aemon lounged shamelessly across the queen's lap.

The carriage was full. Viserys sat at the head, radiating joy at the sight of his family embarking together. Alicent sat beside Aemon on one of the long side benches, with a plump maid holding baby Aegon cradled at her side.

Across from them sat Rhaenyra, her silver-haired head bowed in uncharacteristic silence, as though retreating into herself.

The remaining seats were occupied by the wet nurses, who tactfully remained quiet, sensing the tense atmosphere.

Viserys broke the silence with a chuckle. "Aemon must have worn himself out exploring the dragonpit yesterday!"

Alicent smiled softly and continued pinching the boy's cheeks.

Aemon, however, was unbothered. He wriggled deeper into her lap, his head burrowing into her silk skirt in search of the perfect spot to rest.

Oddly enough, he had dreamed the night before.

He'd fallen asleep clutching his four newly acquired dragon eggs, his head nestled on a pillow stuffed with soft grasses.

In his dream, he was in the heart of a vast forest. Beneath a towering tree, he dug into the soil with a pickaxe, unearthing a hoard of gold.

There was so much gold that he could barely carry it all. In the end, he left most of it behind, taking only a golden crown to carry home.

"Does that mean I'm destined to be a king?"

The thought puzzled Aemon as he sniffed the faint floral scent surrounding him. He had no interest in such a fate.

Sure, the Iron Throne was a symbol of power, but few who sat upon it met a good end.

With the Vale and Runestone as his strongholds and the blood of the dragon in his veins, Aemon figured he could play a more relaxed game. If he could help stabilize the Dance of the Dragons, wouldn't it be better to live out his days as a carefree prince?

A prince didn't have to govern or deal with courtly politics. It sounded much better than scheming for power.

Unable to make sense of his dream, Aemon reached up absentmindedly to touch Alicent's long legs.

"Aemon!" Alicent gasped, laughing as she gave his cheek a sharp pinch.

He flashed a sheepish grin.

For some reason, Alicent had been especially indulgent with him recently, insisting on keeping him by her side.

The carriage jolted as it hit a rough patch in the road, making sleep impossible.

Aemon's gaze drifted toward the moody figure sitting across from him. "Rhaenyra, why didn't you ride your dragon here?"

Rhaenyra glanced up briefly, her tone curt. "Because someone didn't want me to."

Her words were vague, but Aemon understood.

Sitting up from Alicent's lap, he followed her gaze to Viserys, whose previously cheerful expression now appeared strained.

Aemon quickly looked away, playing dumb.

Rhaenyra, however, boldly rolled her eyes at her father.

Was his ban on her dragon-riding truly for her safety, or was it just another way to control her?

No one could say for certain.

By Noon

The procession arrived at the hunting camp.

Creak!

The white carriage came to a halt, and one by one, its passengers disembarked.

The campgrounds were already bustling with nobles from across the realm. As the royal family emerged, the crowd erupted into cheers and applause.

Among them, the noblemen from Oldtown were especially vocal, loudly chanting, "Long live Baby Aegon!"

"Wow, they're not even subtle about it," Aemon muttered under his breath, turning back to the carriage.

Rhaenyra remained seated inside, her head bowed as if hoping to disappear.

"Aemon, stay close!" Alicent called from up ahead, already surrounded by a throng of well-wishers.

"Coming!" Aemon shouted back.

But instead of following, he clambered back into the carriage, grabbing Rhaenyra's arm.

"What are you doing?!" she protested, alarmed.

Aemon frowned, his small face serious. "Come on! Don't let them intimidate you. Stand tall!"

Rhaenyra sighed. "I don't feel well."

"Not an excuse!" Aemon declared firmly, pulling her to her feet. "We can't lose face. There are plenty of nobles here who still support you!"

His words struck a chord.

Though the celebration was ostensibly in honor of Aegon's naming day, the gathering was a thinly veiled attempt to bolster Oldtown's influence.

The court had already begun to split into factions: the Princess's Party and the Queen's Party, also referred to as the Oldtown Bloc.

If Rhaenyra backed down now, it would be a devastating blow to her faction's morale.

"I just…" Rhaenyra hesitated, her voice wavering.

"Come on!" Aemon pressed. "Hold your head high. You're a Targaryen!"

With no room left to argue, Rhaenyra finally relented.

The two siblings walked side by side through the sprawling camp, their heads held high.

They turned heads wherever they went, their striking silver hair and violet eyes drawing admiration and envy alike.

Rhaenyra, accustomed to such attention, was unfazed.

Aemon, however, was less composed. He quickly turned red as a swarm of noblewomen and maidens fluttered around, teasing him with playful remarks.

This is mortifying! he thought, trying his best to keep a composed demeanor.

At last, they reached the largest and most luxurious tent—the king's pavilion.

The tent was marked by two tall banners bearing the three-headed red dragon of House Targaryen. Nobles paused to bow in deference before entering.

"Forward march!" Aemon whispered to himself, patting his flushed cheeks to regain his composure.

Inside, the tent was elegantly furnished, with flowing drapery and solid wooden furniture arranged tastefully throughout.

"Aemon, over here," Alicent called, gesturing to an empty seat beside her.

Aemon shot Rhaenyra one last encouraging look. "Remember—carry yourself like a dragonlord."

"Yes, yes, you've said that a hundred times," Rhaenyra replied, her irritation softened by a small smile.

Satisfied, Aemon released her hand and made his way to Alicent's side.

As he approached, Alicent reached out, pulling him close to sit beside her on the spacious chair. Their legs brushed as she kept him close.

Aemon: …

Ignoring Rhaenyra entirely, Alicent began introducing Aemon to the circle of noblewomen gathered around her, many of whom had been showering her with compliments.

From the moment she had seen the siblings walk in hand in hand, Alicent had felt a pang of jealousy.

Now, as she smiled and spoke, she gently pressed her hand against Aemon's shoulder, keeping him firmly by her side.