Chapter 16

Within the Red Keep, in the study of the Hand's Tower.

"Grandfather." Prince Aemond pushed open the door and walked in.

At a glance, he saw that they were indeed all core members of the Greens. Master of Laws Jasper Wylde was stroking his beard as he spoke quietly with Otto.

There was also the newly appointed master of whisperers, Larys Strong—the Clubfoot—who had quickly earned Otto's trust.

Several courtiers in lavish attire were gathered around the Lord Hand as well.

Aemond's arrival was like a stone tossed into a pond.

Everyone turned to look at the prince whom the king had just declared released from house arrest.

He walked straight to Lord Hand Otto's long desk, piled high with documents, his gaze sweeping over faces marked by surprise, scrutiny, or hastily assembled smiles.

At last, it settled on a plate of candied fruit dusted with sugar.

Ignoring everyone around him, he reached out, picked up an enticing candied plum, and tossed it into his mouth.

"Mmm. Sickeningly sweet. Just right for the slightly bitter air in here, Grandfather," he commented through a mouthful.

Lord Hand Otto Hightower frowned.

He released the exquisite quill in his hand, leaving an abrupt blot of ink on the paper.

He looked up at this grandson of his, whose actions had become increasingly unpredictable.

In public—even if that public was limited to the Greens—it was not his usual cautious manner to so casually display familial intimacy.

Aemond met his gaze and smiled. "Lord Hand?"

Otto glared at him for a moment, as though trying to make him behave with nothing but his eyes.

But in the end, his deeply furrowed brow relaxed helplessly.

He sighed softly and nodded.

At least the boy knew to draw a line in how he addressed him. That gave him a little face.

Besides, there were no true outsiders here.

"Ahem." Master of Whisperers Larys cleared his throat, closed the secret letter in his hand, and tactfully rose to his feet.

"Lord Hand, regarding Tidepool Island... ah, I'll go verify the details again."

Master of Laws Jasper immediately added, "Yes, my lord. I should also go inspect King's Landing."

The other courtiers, like stalks of straw stirred by the wind, all bowed and murmured their excuses before filing out.

Before leaving, each of them gave Prince Aemond a respectful yet complicated glance.

The study was soon left with only grandfather and grandson.

Otto leaned back in his chair and rubbed at his brow, setting aside the weariness brought on by state affairs for the moment.

He studied Aemond again—the second son who had once been gloomy and withdrawn, but now seemed to be baring his edge.

He slowly spoke, pointing toward the door. "What do you think of them?"

Aemond took another piece of candied fruit, this time a dried apricot.

He leaned against the edge of the desk, completely relaxed. "Them?"

He chewed as he spoke. "Nobles? There's no need to care too much about their positions. People can change at any time."

"As long as our interests align, they're our allies."

Otto's surprise turned into scrutiny. "Who taught you that?"

He did not recall ever instilling Aemond with such... realism, or even such cold-hearted principles.

Alicent? No, she was more inclined toward emotion and morality.

A brilliant smile bloomed across Aemond's face. "If I said I was simply gifted, would you believe me?"

He shrugged, his tone as easy as if he were telling a joke.

Otto did not press the matter.

Instead, he steered the conversation toward something more urgent. "Then, Aemond, what do you think of the current... situation between the Greens and the Blacks?"

Aegon had been left on Tidepool Island, and Helaena's marriage alliance was an even greater problem.

Now, among the Greens in King's Landing, the only one they could truly rely upon seemed to be the prince before him, the rider of Vhagar.

His stance was vital to the Greens.

Aemond did not answer immediately. He walked to the window and looked down at the winding stairways of the Red Keep and the distant outline of the city, speaking coldly.

"They hold the advantage."

"Rhaenyra commands Dragonstone, has many allies, and dragons in abundance."

"We... have indeed suffered a great disadvantage."

He turned to face his grandfather, standing with his back to the light.

"But we haven't lost yet, have we?"

Otto heard that clear "we."

Good. He still saw himself as one of the Greens.

"As long as she's human, she'll make mistakes."

Aemond continued as he walked back to the table, his fingers tapping against the oak surface.

"Besides, my dear sister... perhaps you understand her temperament better than I do."

"Headstrong, arrogant, spoiled."

"We only need to wait patiently. They'll expose their own weaknesses."

And Otto pointed out the crucial issue.

"They have far more dragons and dragonriders than we do."

"Your Vhagar may be the strongest dragon alive, but she is too old, Aemond."

"Can her speed and endurance still contend with younger dragons?"

"Vhagar is old," Aemond admitted.

"But her experience is something those young dragons cannot match."

"Her size and strength remain unmatched."

"Though she is ancient and somewhat slow."

"No dragon would dare charge her head-on and tear at her."

"As long as our tactics are sound and we avoid being surrounded by several dragons, Vhagar's fangs and dragonfire can still decide a battle in a single strike."

This analysis of dragon combat strength made Lord Hand Otto nod once more.

"Aegon has remained on Tidepool Island. I will have his noble attendants and companions pledge their service to you instead."

"His resources will also be transferred to you."

Otto began offering tangible support.

"In addition, I will arrange for you to meet the family steward in King's Landing."

"If you need anything, you may go to him."

Aemond gave a slight nod, and this time his smile was a little more sincere.

"Thank you for your esteem and trust, grandfather."

Otto paused, leaning forward slightly as his tone turned especially solemn.

"Aemond, I support you so strongly because I hope you can become the firmest shield and sword of your brother Aegon's future reign."

"Remember, you are brothers bound by blood. The future of the Greens rests upon the two of you."

Aemond answered with almost no hesitation, his expression utterly sincere.

"Of course. Aegon is my dearest loved one, my brother by blood..."

Otto leaned back in his chair, a rare and somewhat relaxed expression appearing on his face for the first time in days.

Aemond's transformation and performance had indeed exceeded his expectations.

Just then, Aemond suddenly spoke, breaking the brief silence.

"What do you plan to do about Helaena's marriage alliance?"

He asked it with such directness.

Otto's brows furrowed again. This truly was a tremendous headache.

He sighed.

"I need time. I will find a way."

Watching Grandfather's worried profile as he sank into thought, Aemond suddenly gave a soft laugh.

Aemond straightened.

"Why make it so troublesome? Think too much, and your hair falls out faster."

He walked toward the door, one hand resting on the handle, then glanced back at Otto.

"It's simple. Helaena can just come with me, can't she?"

Without waiting for Otto's response, he pulled open the door and strode out, leaving Lord Hand Otto Hightower frozen in his chair, unable to recover for a long while.

Come with me? What did that mean?

What the hell was this boy plotting?

What lawless, shocking madness was he planning to pull this time?!

Otto felt a headache coming on. The small measure of satisfaction and expectation he had just begun to feel toward Aemond was instantly washed away by immense uncertainty and a faint sense of dread.

That child was a sharp sword, but this sword did not seem entirely obedient...

Aemond walked steadily down the corridor.

Behind him, Ser Criston Cole of the Kingsguard, clad in snow-white armor and a white cloak, kept his distance as he followed step for step.

After they had walked for a while, Aemond suddenly spoke. His voice rang clearly through the empty corridor, though he did not turn around.

"You hate Rhaenyra very much, don't you, Ser Cole?"

At the question, Cole's body stiffened for an instant.

He had not expected the prince to bring this up so suddenly, much less in a setting like this.

He fell silent for several seconds, each word seeming to squeeze out through clenched teeth.

"Yes, Your Highness."

"I hate that whore."

"She toyed with my feelings."

"She used my loyalty and... affection."

"She trampled on my dignity and sullied my white cloak."

His words grew more and more agitated, but he quickly forced them back down.

"Of course, I was too weak in the past. I allowed personal feelings to cloud my duty. That is my shame."

"Now I have awakened. My life and loyalty belong only to the royal family, to the righteous side."

"Heh..." Aemond gave an unreadable chuckle that echoed softly through the corridor.

Some things lost their meaning once spoken aloud. Perhaps it would be more useful to let that twisted hatred remain.

"Teacher," Aemond said, changing the way he addressed him.

"Come practice swordsmanship with me."

The abrupt turn pulled Cole somewhat out of his turbulent emotions.

He quickly replied, "Yes, Your Highness."

"I don't think I'm strong enough yet," Aemond continued, quickening his pace slightly, his voice carrying a yearning hunger.

"I want to become stronger. Faster."