Aemon Targaryen

-Chapter 30-

-POV Rhaenyra Targaryen-

Watching my cousin's magnificent and majestic dragon put me in a complicated state, a state I often felt when I thought of Aemon, for he embodied everything I loved and everything I hated in a man.

He is handsome, tall, funny, charming, polite, tolerant, generous, and intelligent—an intelligence that has allowed him to increase his personal wealth and that of his House several times over, if not dozens of times.

According to rumors, he has even become a skilled swordsman and spends most of his time fighting against the seasoned knights of the Bronze Shield order, who, although famous, are not sworn knights of House Royce as everyone imagines, but directly to him.

'A piece of information I recently learned from my cousin,' I thought, casting a small sideways glance at her.

As I refocused on Aemon, all his flaws came back to me in full force.

In reality, he didn't have many flaws, and even fewer that I detested, but two things made him my enemy today, even though we were, in terms of blood, closer than my cousin Jeyne.

His desire to see men rule over women and his arrogance.

By seeking to depose my own cousin Jeyne to install that ambitious rooster Arnold Arryn, Aemon directly confronted me and opened the door to gossip—the same gossip that had led to Otto Hightower being removed from his position as Hand of the King.

'Gossip that could cost him his life,' I told myself before glancing at Vhagar and Urrax and adding to myself, slightly worried: 'Or perhaps lead to a bloody war.'

He was everything I wanted to be and everything I would never be: a man, to begin with, a powerful man with a dragon that, in a few years, would be as large as Balerion the Black Dread, a man capable of raising more than 10,000 soldiers and 2,000 knights.

'If I had a dragon, an army, and were born a man, everyone would respect and bow before me. But instead, he tries to make sure that this little capricious brat steals what is mine,' I thought, watching my half-brother Aegon holding the hand of my so-called good friend Alicent.

'He would make a terrible king; he is not the chosen one. The chosen one will be from my line, a true Targaryen king who will honor the Conqueror,' I thought before catching the gaze of Alicent, who watched over her children like a mother hen, to the point of smothering them and making them unbearable.

'Such a bad mother, I will never be like her, never like her.'

While I was lost in my thoughts, Aemon was already on the ground and reaching out to a small boy.

Surprised, I first wondered if he had taken a woman and fathered a bastard, but the hopeful thought of rallying Laena to my side quickly vanished when I noticed a brooch representing the Stark sigil on the boy's clothing.

'Dirty son of a bitch,' I screamed internally, instantly understanding what he had done.

My father, either unaware of what was happening or seeking to extinguish the fire threatening to burn between us, stepped forward with a smile and said, astonished by my cousin's new stature, who surely exceeded 190 cm of muscle:

"Aemon, by the Seven, I almost didn't recognize you, you've grown so much."

"I am doing perfectly well, uncle. It is a pleasure to see you again after all this time," he said.

My father smiled and said: "Likewise."

Still stunned by my cousin's arrival in the company of the heir of Lord Rickon Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North, I did not react until I felt a slight nudge on my arm.

I immediately stepped forward, but Alicent took advantage of my hesitation to say:

"Rhaenyra, aren't you going to greet your cousin who has traveled such a long way?"

'It didn't take him more than a few days,' I thought, forcing myself to maintain a neutral expression.

Any well-bred young lady would recognize her mistake and be compelled to apologize, if only out of politeness, but I was the heir, and that bitch knew that I wouldn't lower my head before my subordinates because it would be perceived as a sign of weakness.

'A sign of weakness already perceived in my father.'

A slight silence settled in, and without saying anything, I stepped forward and extended my hand to my cousin, who, with a slight mocking smile, complied, knelt down, not the least bit offended, and said while lightly kissing my hand:

"Princess, it is a joy to see you again. As the years go by, I realize more and more that you have truly earned your title as the delight of the realm."

Father smiled and said:

"I am happy to see that the House of the Dragon, even separated by time and space, remains united."

I nodded and said: "It warms my heart that you chose to have your marriage take place at the same time as mine, Lord Royce."

I said this to shatter the calm demeanor he always wore, which I knew was a mask to hide his pain or anger, but to my great surprise, my cousin did not react.

He didn't dispel the notion that it was my father and House Velaryon who were primarily behind this double wedding, nor did he challenge the fact that he was a Prince of House Targaryen, a dragon rider, and not the lord of some minor second-rate house.

Aemon said loudly in front of the gathered crowd, with a slight tone of self-mockery:

"It is true that it was important to me to celebrate the union between Laena and me with all of you because it wouldn't be the same without my family and all your noble selves to witness it. I thank you all for contributing to the pious wish of an arrogant young lord."

My father smiled at the comment, as did the entire court, who, as always, acted according to my father's mood to stay in his good graces and not upset him, and then he said:

"Aemon, you are not an arrogant lord, you are a dragon lord, a prince of House Targaryen, and it is just as much my wish for you to be here to celebrate with the most noble lords of the realm these two wonderful unions that will unite House Targaryen, Royce, and Velaryon for a century. And I want to say this in front of all of you: I am happy and proud of everything you have accomplished in the name of House Targaryen."

I refrained from rolling my eyes as I watched my cousin, who had stood up when I wasn't paying attention, hug my father, pretending to be deeply moved by these empty words.

Everyone applauded like the little sheep they were in front of this touching display of familial affection between my father and my cousin, before they finally let go, smiling, and Father said:

"Now that my nephew has finally arrived among us, prepare yourselves to celebrate this event as it should be."

As he led the way, I saw that Aemon stayed behind, giving instructions to the young Stark who accompanied him, whom I had identified, though not with certainty, as the heir of Lord Rickon Stark, Cregan Stark.

"Cousin," I said, stepping toward him.