Aemon: "No!"

Aemon: "No!"

"I think Ser Laenor would make a fine King Consort."

Alicent failed to notice her husband's probing and strongly recommended him. "He comes from a noble house, he's a Dragonrider, and his character is beyond reproach."

The Small Council had reached no conclusion, so there was nothing improper about her voicing an opinion.

Viserys listened quietly, then asked pointedly, "Is that your opinion, or Otto's?"

"It has nothing to do with my father."

Alicent shook her head in denial.

Viserys nodded and resumed smiling. "Laenor is a fine choice, but he still needs to be suitable."

His earlier questioning of his wife had been to ascertain Hand Otto's thoughts.

Although Otto had voiced his support in the Small Council, more of the other ministers had voted against it.

The reason was simple. Daemon had a knack for stirring up trouble, and no one wanted him using this opportunity to return to the center of power.

Otto was his most important aide, and his wife Alicent's attitude represented her father's to some extent.

In his memory, Otto and Daemon had always been openly hostile toward one another.

"You're right."

Alicent dug her fingernails into her palms, forcing down her nerves as she said, "Rhaenyra likes handsome, valiant knights. She would never consider a child."

Her stance remained firm.

Viserys looked startled. It was the first time he had seen this side of his wife, one that refused to yield.

Then he waved with a smile. "Let's not talk about this. The children will be back soon, and we have a welcoming feast to attend."

Alicent gave a soft "Mm" and lowered her head.

"It was only idle conversation."

Viserys took his wife's hand and rose with a smile, heading outside.

As he passed his favorite round stone table, his eyes narrowed slightly.

That night.

The Red Keep was brightly lit with candles as a banquet was held in the second-floor hall.

Aemon had changed into clean clothes and arrived early, accompanied by Gonsal.

Rhaenyra was a little later. She had traded her Dragon Riding Suit for a beige gown, and under the candlelight, her features seemed all the more radiant.

Seeing her, Aemon secretly marveled.

Westerners really did grow fast. She was still so young, yet already so mature.

I'll grow tall someday too, right? Aemon rested his chin on one hand, full of hope.

Soon, the King and Queen arrived hand in hand.

Creak!

Lord Commander of the Kingsguard Ser Harrold pushed open the doors and stationed two Kingsguard at the entrance.

"Your Majesty!"

Aemon rose on his own initiative and bowed in greeting.

Mischievous as he was, he still had to observe proper etiquette in public.

"Haha, no need for formalities."

Viserys's face was covered in smiles as he strode into the hall. From far away, his gaze locked onto his eldest nephew. "Aemon, come, let your uncle have a good look at you."

Leaving behind the hesitant-looking Alicent, he went straight to the dining table to close the distance.

Aemon was a little dazed. He had never received such enthusiasm before.

After being pulled into a barrage of questions for quite some time, Viserys finally let him off, thoroughly satisfied.

Aemon sighed in relief and returned to his seat.

Just when he thought things would settle down, a somber middle-aged man entered through the doors, dressed in dark green with every strand of hair meticulously combed.

The man wore a smile. Though his appearance was modest, his chin was slightly raised, and his garments bore the sigil of the Burning Tower.

"Otto, you're here."

Viserys turned to greet him.

"It is my honor to receive the invitation."

Otto nodded, his manners impeccable.

As the King's father-in-law, he was qualified to attend a royal family dinner.

Only then did Viserys glance at the seats and ask in feigned puzzlement, "Aemon, isn't your mother joining us?"

"No. The journey exhausted her, and she's feeling a little unwell."

Aemon had prepared an excuse for his mother, who did not wish to face the King.

Viserys did not mind and said with a smile, "Perhaps that is for the best. Your mother is not the quiet sort either. She is more like a woman warrior."

It sounded like praise, but the smile never reached his eyes.

As early as his coronation, Lady Rhea had come to petition for the dissolution of her marriage to his brother Daemon, only to be refused time and again.

Because of this, Lady Rhea held no goodwill toward the entire royal family.

Viserys, who favored his younger brother, was likewise quite troubled by this stubborn sister-in-law.

After chatting for a while, Alicent instructed the Servant to bring out the food.

Since it was a family dinner, there were only the few people present.

Viserys was in high spirits, repeatedly raising his cup to drink with Otto while pulling his eldest nephew Aemon into talk of family matters.

Instead, it left Aemon at a loss, a guileless smile hanging on his little face.

His mother had said it herself: he had no place in King's Landing.

For Uncle Viserys to be so warm toward him, he must be seeking something.

Given how young and powerless he was, it might also be because there was something to gain from him.

What could a king possibly want from me? Aemon's eyes darted about before finally landing on Rhaenyra beside him, who was taking small bites of her food.

Ever since Uncle Viserys had entered the hall, Rhaenyra had seemed absent-minded.

Even when her father took the initiative to speak to her, she only managed a reluctant smile in reply.

The father-daughter relationship looked rather worrying!

At a time like this, could it be about Rhaenyra's marriage?

Aemon came to a realization and immediately shuddered.

He and Rhaenyra did not share the same parents, but they had the same grandfather.

That absolutely could not happen!

"Aemon, what are you thinking about?"

Viserys took a sip of wine and noticed that his eldest nephew had gone pale.

Aemon hurriedly waved his hands. "Nothing, nothing."

My father is catching crabs in the Stepstones, but I'm afraid of harmony crabs!

Viserys gave him an odd look but did not pry further, assuming the child was simply letting his imagination run wild.

After drinking his fill, his gaze swept around the hall.

Gonsal stood in one corner of the hall as a guard, making him difficult to overlook.

Seeing him, Viserys recalled the small conflict Ser Harrold had mentioned earlier that day and suddenly had an idea.

At that moment, Aemon was trembling as he lowered his head and vigorously stuffed himself with food.

Then he heard his dear uncle say, "Aemon, you're already eight years old. Have you learned swordsmanship or anything similar?"

"Huh?"

Aemon froze at the question, then looked up and answered, "No, I haven't learned yet."

By Westerosi tradition, noble children began learning swordsmanship at around six to eight years of age, receiving lessons in knightly knowledge from dedicated instructors.

When they grew older, it made it easier for them to become valiant knights.

He was an exception. His mother, Lady Rhea, had paid little attention to raising him and had only arranged for the Old Maester in the castle to teach him academic subjects.

Now that he had gained his mother's approval, he had indeed considered finding a capable instructor after returning to Runestone.

After all, he was a kid with a panel.

"I suspected as much. The big fellow behind you doesn't look like the patient sort who could teach someone."

Viserys chuckled and declared, "I'll hire you a good instructor. I guarantee that you'll become a mighty warrior no less formidable than your father and grandfather."

"Really?" Aemon asked, his face full of doubt.

"A King does not lie."

Otto, who had remained present as an observer, spoke with a smile and casually praised the King.

Aemon turned to look at him and caught a glimpse of deep, unfathomable eyes.

Great. Hand Otto had his own agenda too. He just did not know whether it was aimed at him.

His father Daemon had a grudge against the man!

"Ser Harrold, what do you think about selecting an instructor from the Kingsguard?"

Unaware of his eldest nephew's unease, Viserys followed through immediately and addressed the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard standing guard nearby.

Harrold was clearly taken aback. The King had not mentioned this beforehand.

Fortunately, he was extremely composed and respectfully replied, "There are seven Kingsguard brothers. Aside from the fixed number needed to protect Your Majesty, assigning one to instruct the prince would not be a problem."