The Great Council of the Dragonlords

Valantis.

The weather was clear, and the council was convened atop the Black Wall.

Rhaegar arrived early with his two sons and waited beside the council table.

Calling it a council table was generous; it looked more like a giant sand table.

The sisters, Benella and Rhaenyra, served wine, attending to the family members and ministers who came to the council.

The first to arrive, naturally, were Rhaenys and her husband, along with Laenor.

"Your Grace."

Laenor had changed into fine silks and finery. He nodded in greeting, somewhat bashfully.

Fine clothes made the man, just as a fine saddle made the horse.

The new outfit had certainly brushed away some of his rustic air, but he still lacked confidence.

"Have a seat." Rhaegar smiled faintly, neither warm nor cold.

"Come along. Your cousin may be king, but he's still your close kin."

Rhaenys led her son, lost and found again, over to the table. Her heart and eyes were full of relief.

Laenor nodded and sat down awkwardly.

He still found it difficult to adjust to the sudden change in his status.

"I'll get used to it."

Laenor gave an awkward smile, his hands helplessly wedged between his knees.

Rhaegar pushed a cup of golden wine toward him and glanced discreetly at the sisters.

Benella wore a complicated expression, all the while observing the manners expected of a proper lady.

Rhaenyra, meanwhile, stood dumbly to one side, her smile seeming a little forced.

Corlys's eldest son, Laenor, had returned safely, and the line of succession had changed accordingly.

Rhaenyra, who had been raised to be the heir, had instead become an outsider.

The change in status was bound to make things awkward.

Before long, the Targaryens began arriving one after another.

Aegon, Helaena, Aemond, and Daeron—the four adult dragonriders