The hustle and bustle in the hall receded like a tide, and the last attendant bowed and exited. The heavy oak door slowly closed behind him, cutting off all sounds from the outside world.
Viserys I was sitting alone in the main seat, and the luxurious seat under him was like a torture rack at the moment, which made him feel uncomfortable.
The cups and plates on the long table were in a mess, and the flames on the candlesticks had burned to the end.
The king's trembling hand reached for the silver pot on the corner of the table.
The body of the pot is cold, and there is some milky white residual liquid condensed at the spout, which is Milk of the Poppy prepared by the new bachelor Orvel.
However, the former Grand Bachelor Meuros passed away peacefully in his sleep early one morning a month ago at the age of seventy-four, the palace announced so.
Flower milk can numb the severe pain that gnaws at the bone marrow in the body, and can also make the world in front of you soft, blurry, and easier to bear.
He had drank three cups, maybe four cups, he couldn't remember clearly. He only remembered that with every sip, the pain in his body would subside.
For a moment, the noisy voices in my mind fell silent.
"Sorry..."
"I'm sorry..."
Viserys murmured to himself, and his voice caused a slight echo in the empty hall.
He blinked his drowsy eyes. His late father Baelon and mother Aleysa stood at the other end of the long table, looking at him quietly.
The king choked up a little.
"Father... Mother... I still can't do it..."
"I let you down..."
"Tomorrow..."
"Tomorrow I will announce... Aegon the Younger's inheritance rights... and Helaena's engagement..."
"Just settle it all... just settle it..."
"Brother?"
A voice pulled him back from the illusion.
Viserys, who was in a daze, turned his head and saw Daemon·Targaryen walking out of the shadows in the corner of the hall.
The prince did not leave, he was always there, like a lurking shadow, silently watching the absurd drama that this royal feast turned into.
Daemon walked to his brother's side, his footsteps silent. He stared at the exquisite golden mask on the king's face.
The mask covered the increasingly festering wound on the left half of Viserys's face, but it could not cover the smell of pus, blood and rotting flesh seeping out from the edges.
Daemon stretched out his hand, with rare gentleness, and took off the heavy mask.
The scene under the mask made Daemon's breath hitch.
Viserys's left face was wrapped in a bandage, but it was beyond recognition.
From the cheekbones to the mandible, the skin shows a strange color of blue, black and dark red, with several deep ulcers that can be seen in the bone~
"Seven Up there...Viserys"Daemon stared at the king.
Viserys blinked blankly, seeming to realize that the mask had been taken off.
He subconsciously wanted to raise his hands to cover up.
"Daemon...?" The king's voice was as weak as a gossamer.
"How long, brother?" Daemon asked suppressing his sadness.
Viserys answered slowly.
"Half a year ago... a rash started to appear, then ulcers, which spread quickly."
"The newly appointed Bachelor Orvel said that there is no cure, only delay."
Daemon's eyes fell on the pot of flower milk on the table. "How much did this quack doctor give you?"
"That's enough to knock down a horse!"
"Don't blame him..." Viserys shook his head, his movements as slow as an octogenarian.
"I asked for it. Without this, I wouldn't be able to survive even a day."
Daemon held back the grief in his heart and put on the mask again for Viserys.
Viserys forced out a smile.
"He said, how many years can I live?"
"Long enough, enough..."
Before he finished speaking, a cough came over him. Viserys stooped up.
Daemon, hold Viserys and pat his back.
Through this thick robe, he could clearly feel the jaggedness of Viserys's spine, and felt that this body was withering at a speed visible to the naked eye.
The coughing gradually subsided, and Viserys slumped in the chair and panted for a while.
"Brother," Daemon's voice deepened.
"Haven't you thought about it carefully?"
"Considering... what?" Viserys was a little confused again, and his vision began to blur again.
Daemon pressed Viserys's shoulders and looked at him.
"I hope you wake up a little bit."
"I'm awake..." Viserys retorted weakly.
"You have problems with even your most basic judgment now."
Viserys looked at him blankly.
"Let's talk about the engagement." Daemon pulled up a chair and sat down opposite his brother.
"About Helaena and Jacaerys."
"This... is a good arrangement..." Viserys repeated what he said at the banquet.
"The marriage between Velaryon and Targaryen... will strengthen the alliance..."
"Velaryon is annexing the bloodline of Targaryen!" Daemon interrupted him sharply.
Viserys was shaken all over, and his distracted eyes came into focus.
Daemon leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, looking level with Viserys:
"Have you thought about it carefully, brother?"
"Corlys·Velaryon."
"Why are you so generous all of a sudden?"
"Why are you willing to accept a child that everyone Seven Kingdoms knows is illegitimate?"
"Why are you willing to let them have the surname Velaryon and inherit the millennium legacy of Tidepool Island?"
Noticing that Viserys was listening to him, he continued:
"Let me tell you why."
"Because in this way, House Velaryon will have four dragon masters."
"Jacaerys and Vermithor, Lucerys and Arrax, Joffrey and Tyraxes, plus Rhaenys and Meleys."
"Four dragons, brother. If you marry Helaena and add her Dreamfyre... that will be five dragons."
Daemon tapped his fingers on the table to remind him.
"Other than Targaryen, Seven Kingdoms, no other family in history has ever owned so many dragons."
"Now, these five dragon masters all have the last name Velaryon."
"Their future children will also be named Velaryon, and their grandchildren will also be named Velaryon."
Viserys's face changed, and his brother's words were like ice water pouring over his head, making his groggy mind clear for a moment.
Daemon looked directly into Viserys's eyes, with a cold light in his purple eyes:
"They're going through a slow blood exchange."
"Dilute the bloodline of Targaryen through marriage."
"Take our dragons with our blood."
"A marriage contract from generation to generation..."
Viserys opened his mouth, his Adam's apple rolling.
"No..." Viserys finally squeezed out one word.
"Then..." He looked at Daemon with bloodshot eyes.
"Then what do you think... what should we do?"
Daemon leaned back in his chair and said decisively.
"Cancel this engagement."
"Immediately, thoroughly and without leaving any room for error."
He paused for a moment and continued:
"As for marriage... I have a better proposal."
Viserys raised his head and waited for the next step.
"Let Aegon the Younger marry Isera." Daemon said slowly, "Your grandson, marry your daughter."
"Two pure Targaryen, the strongest true dragon blood circulates within the family."
"In this way, Helaena does not have to marry Jacaerys, and Greens has no reason to object."