Hatching

The Red Keep had been scrubbed clean by the morning rain.

Inside the royal dining room at Maegor's Hold.

Viserys I sat at the head of the table, wearing a black-and-red velvet robe that wrapped around his increasingly frail body.

Compared to half a month ago, he seemed to have a little more life in him. He was still haggard, but the deathly pallor of chronic illness had faded from his eyes.

He sipped warm milk mixed with honey, his gaze slowly sweeping over his family around the table.

Queen Alicent sat on his right, wearing a red gown embroidered at the collar with the Hightower sigil in silver thread.

But the gloom between her brows had yet to lift. Though Aemond had dealt with Alice, the handmaid who had tried to get into his bed last night,

her father Otto's decision to act without her knowledge, trying to manipulate her son with seduction, was like an icicle driven into her heart.

It left her angry.

But at the same time, she was uncertain about her child Aemond's preferences.

She feared that Aemond might be like Laenor, with no interest in women at all...

Now, her gaze drifted across the table.

Aemond sat beside Helaena. He wore a simple black shirt beneath a well-tailored black vest, his silver-gold hair neatly tied back, revealing a jawline that was growing more defined.

He leaned toward Helaena and spoke in a low voice, a faint smile on his lips. He was probably telling her about what he had seen at the Dragonpit.

Helaena tilted her head slightly as she listened. A few silver strands slipped from her temple and fell over her shoulder. Her violet eyes were fixed on Aemond, her long lashes occasionally fluttering. When she heard something that caught her interest, she nodded gently, a ripple of laughter spreading across her lips.

Sunlight slanted through the high windows, bathing the siblings in a halo. Their equally radiant silver hair and equally deep violet eyes seemed to merge in the shifting light and shadow.

Alicent's fingers tightened slightly around her silver fork.

The Targaryen tradition of marrying within the family was known throughout Westeros.

Because this tradition ran counter to the teachings of the Seven, the Targaryens had once clashed fiercely with the Faith. It was only after Maegor the Cruel crushed it with bloodshed that the Faith temporarily backed down.

During the reign of Jaehaerys the Conciliator, after lengthy negotiations, the Faith finally compromised and recognized the Targaryen family's "exceptionalism."

Prince Daemon, for example, had married his niece Laena, and now he was entangled in an ambiguous relationship with his own niece Rhaenyra...

Alicent cut off that train of thought, her chest tightening with revulsion.

But she couldn't shake the sight before her.

The effortless closeness between Aemond and Helaena stirred the unease rooted deep in her faith in the Seven and her traditional morals.

Helaena was her pure, innocent daughter, one of the few comforts she had left in this court.

And Aemond...

She looked at her second son's calm yet keen profile, recalling the wild night on Tidepool Island and Ser Cole's quiet report this morning about the cold way he had dealt with Alice.

He seemed uninterested in certain women... but with Helaena...

The blood of the Targaryens ran in his veins, bearing that unsettling madness.

She feared that Aemond might hurt her innocent Helaena. Even more, she feared a feeling she didn't dare examine too closely, but that might already have taken root...

"Aemond."

Viserys's voice broke the subtle tension at the table.

Hearing the king call him, Aemond ended his conversation with Helaena and turned. "Father."

"You don't look well," Viserys said, studying him with a slight furrow in his brow. "Did you not rest last night?"

"It was late by the time I returned on Vhagar," Aemond replied frankly. "I didn't get enough sleep."

Viserys nodded. "Ser Cole says you train hard."

"I'm only doing what I can."

"That's the spirit a young man should have." A hint of reminiscence passed through Viserys's eyes. "When I was your age, all I thought about was riding dragons and training with a sword..."

Aemond watched his father quietly. He knew Viserys's time as a dragonrider had been brief.

Less than two years later, Balerion, the Black Death, had died of old age.

And once a dragonrider formed a bond with a dragon, he could never ride another. It was an unchangeable law of dragonrider blood.

A thought suddenly crossed his mind. Vhagar was already old, too. If she eventually passed away, would he still be able to...?

Viserys looked at Aemond, weighing something in his mind and considering what to entrust to him.

"Aemond, tomorrow's Small Council meeting..."

Viserys spoke slowly.

"My strength is failing me, and sitting for long grows tiresome."

"Would you be willing to attend? Just stand beside me, help pour the wine and pass along documents, and listen to how the great lords conduct their business."

It was a clear and unmistakable signal.

Allowing a prince to attend the Small Council, even if only to pour wine and pass along documents, meant formally bringing him into the kingdom's center of power.

It was also a declaration to the entire court and the nobles of the Seven Kingdoms that the king had begun to value and groom his second son.

Especially with his eldest son, Aegon, still far away on Tidepool Island.

Hearing Viserys, Alicent held her breath and looked at Aemond.

She knew her father, Otto, would be delighted.

It would greatly strengthen the Greens' influence at court.

Aemond set down his silver cup and met his father's gaze with violet eyes.

He saw the hope in Viserys's eyes, and perhaps a desire to make amends.

"It would be my honor, Father," Aemond replied calmly, neither excited nor reluctant.

"I'll listen carefully and learn how to help ease your burden."

A genuine, relieved smile spread across Viserys's face. "Good." He nodded.

Then the king turned to Helaena, who sat quietly beside him, and spoke gently.

"Helaena, my daughter, I hear you rode a dragon yesterday. Is Dreamfyre well?"

Helaena nodded softly. "She's well, Father. We flew a long way yesterday..."

Just then, someone knocked on the heavy oak door of the dining room, the rhythm hurried but still respectful.

Every eye turned to the entrance.

"Come in."

Ser Criston Cole pushed the door open. His snow-white armor gleamed in the morning light as he bowed.

"Your Majesty, Your Grace, Your Highness." Cole said, "A report has just arrived from the Dragonpit."

Viserys furrowed his brow. "What is it? Has Vhagar caused trouble again?"

His first thought was of the ancient, volatile dragon.

He had received plenty of reports lately. Since Vhagar was kept outside the Dragonpit, one sudden roar in the middle of the night could alarm half the city.

And if the Dragonkeepers were late with her food, she sometimes devoured one of them.

Cole answered cautiously. "It's not Vhagar, Your Majesty. It's... Vhagar's Egg."

"The egg?" Viserys and Alicent exclaimed at the same time.

Aemond's pupils contracted almost imperceptibly.

"That's right, Your Majesty." Cole spoke clearly. "Vhagar's Egg... the one long considered petrified."

"The Dragonkeepers on watch just reported that, starting before dawn, the egg began showing signs of hatching. Its shell started to crack. About an hour ago..."

He paused.

"It hatched."

Silence fell.

Only the faint crackling of logs in the fireplace remained in the dining room.

The silver spoon in Viserys's hand clattered onto his plate. The news seemed absurd to him.

"How... could this be..."

"By the Seven..."

There had never been a case in Targaryen history of a dead egg coming back to life.

Helaena gasped in surprise, her violet eyes wide as she looked at Aemond.

Yesterday, she had seen Aemond stain the lifeless gray egg with his blood.

Aemond winked at her. Helaena pressed her lips together and lowered her eyes without saying a word.

Aemond slowly rose to his feet.

Was he shocked? Of course.

But then he remembered that besides Helaena, three attendants and several Dragonkeepers had been there yesterday.

If Viserys chose to investigate... it was bound to come out sooner or later.

Could his blood really have such an effect?

That egg had lain dormant for half a century, condemned as dead...

Had it truly been reborn?

"It's black..." Cole added. "According to the Dragonkeepers, the hatchling's scales are as black as ink, and its eyes... are dark red."

A black dragon.

In Targaryen history and legend, black dragons often symbolized great power and rarity.

Like Balerion, the Black Death, the colossal dragon that had brought the Seven Kingdoms to heel.

At that moment, King Viserys trembled all over, overcome by a mixture of joy and confusion.