Throne Hall

After noon, the sun was at its brightest.

The moment Aemon stepped out of the Queen's Bedchamber, the White Knight summoned him to the Throne Hall.

Creak!

Two White Knights pushed open the great doors, revealing the solemn, majestic hall.

The Blackstone Floor bore the weight of countless years, while Dragon-Carved Stone Pillars towered overhead.

A pitch-black Iron Throne stood firm, as though it rose from a forest of swords and blades.

Aemon looked around, feeling both unfamiliarity and familiarity.

The last time he had come here, his great-grandfather had carried him in his arms.

"Aemon, come here."

Viserys stood beneath the Iron Throne and beckoned with a smile.

The suggestions from both of his trusted ministers were good, but neither entirely suited his wishes.

It would be better to ask himself.

Aemon put away his playful expression and, after walking closer, said, "You should be sitting up there."

"Oh, is that so?"

Viserys smiled faintly and sighed. "Everyone longs for it, yet no one knows how unbearable it is to sit upon it."

Aemon nodded. "Wearing the crown means bearing both power and responsibility."

"You have insight."

Viserys said this in surprise.

It was not a question, but astonishment at his nephew's perception.

At the very least, Daemon and Rhaenyra could not grasp such a simple concept.

Aemon had intended to hide his abilities.

But when he met his uncle's expectant gaze, he took his left hand and said softly, "You've worked very hard. You've been hurt because of it."

Viserys trembled all over and swiftly withdrew the hand hidden beneath a leather glove.

Ever since sitting upon the Iron Throne, he had often been cut by its broken blades.

Several sores on his back had festered and oozed pus. Even the little finger and ring finger of his left hand had been amputated.

Not even drinking heavily every day could numb the pain.

Yet the pain in his body could not compare to the shock in his heart.

Aemon had only returned to King's Landing three days ago, yet he had already noticed everything so keenly.

He could see the painful sacrifices Viserys had made behind his power.

"You summoned me here because you have something to announce?"

Aemon looked utterly innocent as he changed the subject.

It was enough to let them know he was not foolish.

Now was the time to ask for benefits.

Viserys stared blankly for a while before smiling. "That's right. You're a clever Little One."

That damned Daemon—what kind of luck had he stumbled into?

How did he deserve to father such an excellent son?

Could he even raise him properly?

At once, Aemon put on a flattering smile. "Uncle, I saved Rhaenyra and Duke of the West too, you know~"

He looked as though he could not wait to receive his reward.

Viserys shook his head with a laugh and asked, "That is a great merit. What reward do you want?"

"There's no need. Saving Rhaenyra was what I should have done."

Aemon wore a resolute expression and thumped his chest hard.

Although the White Hart would not have hurt anyone to begin with, it had still knocked the head of House Lannister flying.

Naturally, he had to embellish things a little.

"Do you truly think so?"

Viserys asked, amused.

"Of course."

Aemon was utterly certain.

Viserys nodded lightly, deliberately dragging out the pause. Then, under the Little One's burning gaze, he burst into laughter. "Go on. Your King is not a miser. I will not mistreat those who have rendered service."

What did he mean, saving Rhaenyra without seeking a reward?

Who would lend a hand next time, then? And how would Duke Jason, who had narrowly escaped death, be accounted for?

"Hehe, then I'll say it."

Aemon shamelessly went on.

Viserys encouraged him with his eyes.

There was nothing wrong with asking for a reward. As long as he was an obedient child, that was enough.

Aemon's eyes turned, and he said pitifully, "My mother is the Lady of Runestone, but it is still Royce land. I do not even have a fief of my own."

"Believe me, you will inherit your mother's lands."

Viserys's expression turned solemn.

Lady Rhea had only one son. His nephew was bound to become the future lord of Runestone.

No one could change that.

Aemon continued, "But they do not acknowledge me. My father ignores me completely. I'm just a weak, pitiful, helpless little prince."

As he spoke, his large eyes fluttered, faintly glistening with tears.

Viserys was left speechless, so uncomfortable under his nephew's gaze that he felt ill at ease all over.

Daemon truly had been outrageous. He had heard that he had not returned to the Vale for years.

Lady Rhea had a cold temperament as well, spending every day doing nothing but riding and hunting.

With his nephew all alone, inheriting Runestone would indeed be difficult.

Viserys found himself in a dilemma and hesitated. "But you are still too young, and the Vale has no unclaimed fertile lands suitable for a grant."

In his eyes, inheriting Runestone was the best possible choice.

His grandmother Alysanne had arranged that marriage precisely to make plans for Daemon.

"It's fine if I don't receive a fief."

Seeing that the time was right, Aemon said bluntly, "But I should at least have a status that keeps others from looking down on me."

Runestone was, of course, his Runestone.

But with his mother holding authority over it, he did not possess even the slightest autonomy.

He urgently needed a title with greater symbolic than practical meaning.

Viserys's eyes flickered as he roughly understood what his nephew wanted.

Such nominal things could sometimes be dangerous.

"Anything else?"

Viserys asked again.

He needed to carefully consider the first reward.

"I can make another request?"

Aemon asked in delighted surprise.

Viserys chuckled. "Let me hear it. As long as it isn't difficult, I can grant it."

"Alright!"

After pondering for a moment, Aemon said seriously, "When I want to tame a dragon, I hope I can do so whenever I wish."

"That is already your right."

Viserys shook his head.

"That's all. It's enough."

Aemon smiled shyly.

Taming dragons was no easy task. What if he made some "small mistake" one day and someone tried to choke him off?

Viserys was somewhat helpless, but inwardly relieved that Aemon had not made outrageous demands.

He agreed. "Taming a dragon is not a problem, but you need to grow a little more first. You cannot even climb onto a dragon's back yet."

Night fell, in the King's Bedchamber.

Viserys had changed into a red nightgown and sat beside the fireplace, sipping wine.

Alicent sat across from him.

They had only been talking for a short while, discussing Rhaenyra's marriage.

Viserys became more animated as he spoke, saying, "Aemon is a good child. It's unbelievable that Daemon could father a son like him. The gods truly are unfair!"

That damned Daemon, that bastard brother!

Alicent said with amusement, "But Rhaenyra has no interest in any of them, including the promising young men from this hunt, such as Duke Jason, who is lying injured in bed."

She knew that House Lannister was also among the candidates for a marriage alliance.

Unfortunately, they had fallen before they even began.

"Her wishes are not the point!"

Viserys grew angry at the mention of it and emphasized, "Rhaenyra is of age. She needs a great lord as King Consort, someone willing to respect and love her."

Alicent continued smiling, speaking as though it cost her nothing. "I believe Rhaenyra will marry, but she must believe it is her own choice."

Anyone would do.

As long as they did not drag Aemon into it, nothing else mattered.

Viserys rolled his eyes, set down his empty cup, and rubbed his head gloomily.

What could be more troublesome than a disobedient daughter?

The motion stirred a faint breeze, making a letter on the table rustle.

Alicent glanced at it and was surprised to see that it concerned the war. "What is this?"

"A request for aid from the Stepstones."

Viserys did not even look at it, nor did he care.

Laena was still in King's Landing, urging him to send troops in support.

But it seemed that it was not a threat, but rather the wish of his cousin Rhaenys.

After receiving permission, Alicent picked up the letter and read it through. Her brows furrowed. "Why not send troops to support them? Aemon's father is there too, and he has just won a merit."

The letter said the battle was deadlocked, and the soldiers had lost confidence after the prolonged war.

All of Daemon's mercenaries had run away.

The dragon-taming plot is coming soon.

After about one more short plotline, it will be time to tame a dragon.

Guess which dragon he'll tame?