Aemon Targaryen

-Chapter 22-

-POV MC-

-Evening-

-Banquet Hall-

"I almost won," said Laena as we entered the banquet hall, just in time to avoid being reprimanded by our parents for being late.

"Not even once," I said with a sly smile as she frowned to the side without stopping her stride.

"You're lying," she said.

"No, Vhagar is old and slow," I said, smiling, knowing full well she was offended by the insult to her dragon.

"But she would make a single bite of your little dragon," she said, emphasizing the word 'little'.

I smiled, surprised by her bold joke and her victorious smile, while joining my mother at the table of the Ladies and Lords of the Vale, another small point that annoyed me as it was another lack of respect for our status since I was a Prince of House Targaryen and she was my mother.

I kept a calm and smiling expression because, apart from that, I had had an excellent day in Laena's company and I was now sure that an alliance with House Velaryon would be a good thing. Although she had a strong character that could give me headaches, she was loyal, understanding, and brave.

'Immense qualities that are not often found in the lands south of the Neck given the limited education of noble girls.'

"I love how you always manage to keep a smile on your face while we are surrounded by snakes ready to bite us at any moment," said my mother, kissing the top of my head.

I smiled at her gesture of tenderness and then said, "They can't bite; the dragon is far too big and its bronze scales are far too tough."

Mother smiled and then said, "You missed a fantastic fight between the Kingsguard knight Criston Cole and your father."

"Who won?"

"Cole."

"As always," I said with a slightly mocking tone.

Mother nodded and then said, "I don't understand why he persists; he has a dragon by the old gods."

"His pride was surely hurt the first time, and gradually, I imagine he won't stop fighting him until he manages to defeat him," I said, disgusted by this part of my father, which was also the origin of our current 'quarrel'.

"He should be careful; a bad sword strike or Morningstar blow from this Cole could send him to join his ancestors."

"I doubt it; Cole is a Kingsguard, and whatever the troubles between the king and Daemon, Uncle Viserys will never accept Targaryen blood being spilled."

"That could start a war."

I didn't respond, but I totally agreed: whatever the differences between us, whether it was my father or me, if one of us were to die, the other would seek revenge at any cost.

'A truly crazy family,' I thought, looking towards my father, who was feeding his son.

'Something he never did with me,' I thought, not jealous of my little brother since I had never accepted being infantilized.

I had always been very precocious given the memories of my past life that I had, which made me a sort of adult trapped in a baby's body.

While the servants were serving the dishes, the doors of the now-closed Banquet Hall were thrown wide open and Queen Alicent entered the room in a green dress, a sign of her anger and surely of the rupture between her and Rhaenyra, who in this world were not the 'sisters' from HBO's Game of Thrones universe show 'House of the Dragon'.

Although I didn't know their relationships well, I knew they had such a significant age difference that they couldn't be as close and complicit as in the series.

They had a good relationship with each other, but Alicent, being totally loyal to her ambitious father, had surely tried to manipulate the little princess before throwing herself at her grieving father when the young princess was only seven days old.

'Something that deeply disgusted me whether in the series or even now,' I thought, watching the young queen of twenty-three days moving in the room as if she were truly of dragon blood.

One thing that had greatly changed from my previous self was that I felt a pride that came from my bond with Urrax. I was certain of it because every time I saw people with not a drop of dragon blood trying to act haughty and arrogant in front of me, a sort of repulsion mixed with a certain disdain from my guts manifested.

"She is bold," said my mother, motioning for me to look at the men who all demonstrated their loyalty by wearing certain shades of green, like the fool Jason Lannister whose usual colors were red and gold in the image of his house.

"She is stupid; she just plunged the kingdom into total war, and she doesn't even realize what she's doing," I said distractedly, in a much louder tone than I would have wanted, drawing looks from the Lords who could hear our conversation.