Otto's Arrogance

Otto's Arrogance

"Prince, are we going hunting?"

Ser Steve surveyed the surroundings and changed the subject.

Aemon blinked and smiled. "Of course."

Why think so much about it?

For the time being, he had no way to break the deadlock. He could only hope his uncle Viserys would pull through and not let the situation spiral out of control.

Once he grew a little older and tamed an adult dragon,

he could enter the game as a third power, independent of the Black and Green Parties.

Then life would be much easier.

As for why he would not choose a side?

Because triangles were stable.

"Hyah!"

Ser Steve took the reins and rode the White Horse after the trail left by the hunt.

Having made peace with it, Aemon felt strength fill his body. Excitedly, he said, "Ser, I heard there's a White Hart in the King's Wood. Let's look for it too."

He still remembered the strange dream from last night.

Digging up gold beneath a great tree might have foreshadowed something.

Perhaps he would find magical plants imbued with power, or a noble White Hart that symbolized good fortune.

"No problem, Prince."

Ser Steve was easygoing. He even removed a bow from his saddle. "Before practicing swordsmanship, you must first build up your strength."

"Can I draw it?" Aemon asked eagerly.

When he had thrown the bottle at someone earlier, he had unexpectedly discovered that he had excellent aim.

"It's an ordinary wooden bow, just right for you."

Ser Steve gave an honest smile and taught him the proper way to draw a bow as they rode.

Aemon listened carefully and quickly got the hang of it.

With a creak, he drew the bowstring into a full moon. He truly had considerable strength.

On the other side of the King's Wood, many nobles traveled in groups.

According to Hand Otto, there was a White Hart in the forest with a coat as smooth as satin. They all wanted to capture it and present it to the king.

For a time, the forest buzzed with voices.

The king's great tent.

"I did not decide on a whim to name Rhaenyra my heir. Every lord in the realm would do well to remember that."

Viserys's face was dark as he dismissed his guest. "Thank you for your gift, Duke Jason!"

Duke Jason stood there stupidly for a moment before hurriedly taking his leave. "Yes, Your Majesty."

The Duke of Casterly Rock in the Westerlands, a handsome blond man who shared his twin brother's face, stumbled out of the great tent in embarrassment.

He should have regretted his earlier blunder.

Viserys's gaze was icy. He took a large gulp of Golden Wine, forcefully suppressing the anger in his heart.

He had just met with the unexpectedly visiting Laena.

The little girl who had nearly become his new wife had grown into a graceful young woman, inheriting her mother's beauty and her father's shrewd mind.

Her purpose had been simple: to explain that her uncle Vaemond's letter asking for aid had been his own unauthorized decision.

If there truly was a need, she would ride dragons alongside her mother Rhaenys and turn the tide of battle.

It had been a very sensible statement, but to Viserys's ears, it was the most piercing threat.

Thanks to his cousin Rhaenys once having been a candidate for the Iron Throne, her two children possessed the right to tame dragons.

The Velaryon Family now possessed not only half the kingdom's fleet, but three dragons as well.

In contrast, after Daemon's exile, only Rhaenyra remained among the royal bloodline who could ride a dragon.

But she was just a little girl, and so was her dragon.

That was precisely why the Velaryon Family was such a thorn in his side.

Viserys had forced a smile and barely managed to send Laena away when the brainless Duke Jason came blundering in.

He had brazenly claimed that he could support the royal family, provided Rhaenyra married him.

He had even dared to say that Rhaenyra would eventually be replaced, and that marrying him to enjoy wealth and glory would count as compensation.

Bang!

The more Viserys thought about it, the angrier he became. He slammed the armrest of his chair and gritted his teeth. "An arrogant fool like him thinks he deserves to marry my daughter!"

What he did not know was that before meeting him, Jason had approached Rhaenyra first.

Only after his greasy declaration of love had been rejected did he come to see Viserys.

"The hunters have sent word. The hounds have already been released, and the White Hart will soon be driven into a corner."

Otto came around the steps and reported, "Your prey is within reach."

Hearing this, Viserys rolled his eyes inwardly.

He did not believe there was a White Hart in the King's Wood that symbolized kingship. It was merely a lie Otto had fabricated to build momentum for his grandson Aegon.

Otto offered no further explanation and silently sat below the king.

Viserys gestured for an attendant to pour him wine, while his mind kept replaying all the troubles of late.

First had come the Stepstones' letter asking for aid, clearly intended to drag the royal family into the conflict.

But with Laena's arrival, standing by and watching from across the water was no longer an option.

Then there was Hand Otto beside him, eager to place his grandson on the throne and beginning to disregard his authority.

By comparison, Rhaenyra's marriage was not so urgent.

Still, it could not be ignored forever.

Viserys glanced at Otto, and an idea came to him. "What do you think of Duke Jason's proposal?"

"He is exceptionally arrogant."

Otto sat straight-backed, his voice carrying faint disdain. "He is not a suitable match."

Truthfully, Duke Jason shared his goal and could be considered an ally.

If he married Rhaenyra, he could clear the way for his grandson Aegon.

Unfortunately, he was a brainless idiot.

Viserys chuckled and continued, "Then who do you think would be a better choice?"

"Your Majesty, you are the ruler of a kingdom."

Otto grew serious, leaning closer as he advised, "Princess Rhaenyra is your daughter. She should obey your command."

Viserys was immediately speechless. He objected, "I do not want to command her. I only want her to live happily."

Not everyone was like this father-in-law and old friend of his, capable of forcing his daughter into marriage.

He had named Rhaenyra his heir partly because he did not want to hand the throne to his brother Daemon, but more importantly because he truly loved his daughter from the bottom of his heart.

Otto pondered for a moment, then lowered his voice. "Besides Casterly Rock, we have another choice. Perhaps it would sit better with you."

"Oh? Who?"

Viserys's eyes darkened, and even his tone changed.

He wanted to see exactly what sort of person Otto would recommend.

Whether or not to dismiss him could be decided by the name he gave.

Otto was especially self-aware, so he kept him in suspense. "He is also closer to home."

Viserys rubbed the wine cup between his fingers, feeling somewhat expectant. "Who is it, exactly?"

If Otto named Aemon, it would mean he was still on the same side as him, and there would be no need to waste any more thought on the matter.

"Right before your eyes!"

Unfortunately, Otto failed to seize the opportunity. He turned and looked toward an area behind the seat of honor.

Viserys froze, then followed his gaze.

There, two-year-old Little Aegon sat on the floor, squalling in a maid's arms.

Viserys was stunned for a moment, then actually laughed. "Otto, he is only two."

It turned out that when people were truly speechless, they really did laugh.

Otto still refused to give up, persuading him, "Betrothing them would stop those endless suitors seeking Rhaenyra's hand."

Viserys clenched his teeth inwardly, his anger toward Otto reaching its peak.

The feeling of having been fooled like an idiot even gave him a naked sense of humiliation.

You wanted your grandson to become heir and steal the royal family's power.

Now you were not even bothering to hide it, and you wanted to sacrifice Rhaenyra too.

In the end, every child he had fathered would have been for House Hightower.

Unaware of the king's thoughts, Otto continued smoothly, "It is better than Prince Aemon. He is Daemon's son, after all."

As soon as the words fell, a chill swept through the tent.

Viserys's expression instantly turned cold. Laughing in fury, he said, "I came here to hunt, not to have this damned politics wrapped around my neck!"

As he spoke, he even mimed strangling a neck with his hand.

But what he truly wanted was to reach for Otto and snap his neck.