The North Came Up Empty-Handed

In the afternoon, the weather was clear and sunny.

Rhaegar left the council chamber, intending to get a good night's sleep.

There was no need to rush the choice of Hand of the King. They could consider the candidates further.

Throne Room.

Viserys bade farewell to the assembled lords and, full of anticipation, sat down on the Iron Throne.

The iron chair still dug into his backside. It was cold and uncomfortable.

"Grandfather, Your Grace..."

A crowd of silver-haired children beamed as they came rushing over like fledglings returning to their nest.

The oldest was Rhaenyra; the youngest was Jaehaerys, whom Visenya was dragging along the ground.

"All right, all right. Let's hear today's story."

Viserys laughed from the bottom of his heart. Even the iron chair didn't feel quite so hard anymore.

There were more than a dozen healthy children, either his grandchildren or the children of his younger brother Daemon.

He would never have dreamed of such a thing in the past.

With a life like this, why bother being Hand of the King?

If his health hadn't been declining by the day, and he weren't worried that his eldest son couldn't manage the affairs of state, he wouldn't even bother attending the Small Council.

"You should rest for a while, Viserys."

The story had only just begun when Alicent entered from the side of the hall.

"Let me stay a little longer. There's no rush."

Viserys held Visenya in one arm and Jaehaerys in the other, ignoring his wife's urging.

He had worked hard for so many years. It was time he enjoyed himself.

"You always say just a little longer."

Alicent sighed helplessly and draped a blanket over her husband's legs.

The corner of her eye caught sight of his bandaged left hand, where a