The intense scene that had just unfolded left the entire hall in dead silence. Everyone present realized that what had happened today had become an irreconcilable deadlock.
In the midst of the standoff, an old, steady, yet authoritative female voice suddenly rang out.
"Your Majesty."
Rhaenys Targaryen, the "Uncrowned Queen," slowly emerged from the rear of the Blacks' ranks.
She was no longer young. Time had left its mark in her salt-and-pepper hair and the lines at the corners of her eyes. She wore a stately dark red gown, her favorite color.
She was the wife of Corlys Velaryon, the "Sea Snake," and, more than that, the rightful princess whose claim had been stripped away by male-preference succession at the Great Council all those years ago.
Her very presence was a silent challenge to the cousin seated on the throne.
"Perhaps," she said as she came to a stop, her gaze passing calmly over Viserys, whose face was ashen on the throne, then over Aemond, held down by the Kingsguard, before returning to the king.
"We can try... another approach."
Her voice was not loud, yet both the Blacks and the Greens listened closely.
"Let both sides take a step back."
"Rhaenys, speak," Viserys said, his voice as urgent as a drowning man clutching at driftwood.
He desperately needed a way to break the deadlock.
Rhaenys gave a slight nod and spoke clearly. "To keep arguing over who was right or wrong tonight would be like tearing at a wound that has already exposed the bone. It would only make us bleed more."
"Therefore," she said, pausing briefly, "we, House Velaryon, and I, on Rhaenyra's behalf..."
"Can promise here and now that we will pursue no further claims over who was right or wrong in this matter."
Her gaze turned to Aemond, held down by the Kingsguard, and skimmed over the scar on his left cheek. "That includes the question of Vhagar's ownership."
At that, Rhaenys sighed.
"Consider it my compensation."
Her words sent a faint ripple through the hall.
Many looked bewildered. House Velaryon was giving up its claims and the fight over the dragon so easily? And what exactly did she mean by compensation?
A complex look flashed in King Viserys's eyes.
He understood the meaning behind that "compensation." It was a grudge from decades ago, another old dispute over a stolen dragon.
After the brothers' mother, Aleysa Targaryen, died, the dragon she left behind, the "Red Queen" Meleys, should have gone first to her sons.
But their thirteen-year-old cousin Rhaenys Targaryen had sneaked into the dragonpit and claimed Meleys.
The young Viserys and Daemon had been furious and accused her of theft.
In the end, however, King Jaehaerys the Conciliator had settled the dispute.
Now, time had passed, and the roles were reversed.
The passage of time and the cyclical nature of cause and consequence left those who knew the story with mixed feelings.
Prince Daemon, standing among the Blacks, felt even more conflicted. The dragon their mother Aleysa had left behind had been stolen, and now the dragons his late wife had left to his daughters had been stolen too.
But Daemon kept silent. If Aemond did not die, his daughters had little chance of ever getting Vhagar back.
The plan he and his cousin Rhaenys had quietly discussed moments ago might be better. They could use Jae's situation to force the Greens to accept—and ensure they could no longer oppose the other matter...
Daemon glanced at Rhaenyra in the center of the hall. If his brother Viserys had agreed to his proposal to marry his daughter Rhaenyra back then, perhaps none of this would have happened...
"Dragons acknowledge only their riders," Rhaenys continued, a hint of regret in her voice. "Since Vhagar has made her choice, she belongs to Prince Aemond. We have no objections."
"In turn, we will no longer pursue the prince's unauthorized claiming of the dragon."
Listening to these concessions, Viserys felt no relief. His heart only grew heavier.
The more they gave, the more they were bound to demand in return.
As expected, Rhaenys slowly raised her right hand and held up two fingers, her gaze firm and unyielding.
"But, Your Majesty," she said, her voice suddenly deepening, "the rift must be mended. A child has already bled and lost his sight tonight."
"We require two forms of compensation. Not much, but we must have them."
Viserys closed his eyes, his Adam's apple bobbing with difficulty. "...Speak plainly, Rhaenys."
He knew the moment had come to pay the price.
"First," Rhaenys said clearly, "for the sake of true reconciliation and peace for the decades to come..."
"I just spoke with Prince Daemon. We will dissolve the betrothal between Jacaerys and Baela."
Viserys fell silent, and even Otto, who had remained composed until now, changed expression.
"Now, I ask Your Majesty to betroth Princess Helaena to my grandson, Jacaerys Velaryon."
"Marriage is the best way to mend the wounds between us, and the strongest bond for securing our union."
Rhaenys turned her gaze toward the pale, slender Princess Helaena in the corner.
"No!"
A shrill cry rang out.
Queen Alicent was like a doe pierced through the heart by an arrow. Her face had gone deathly pale, her eyes red-rimmed, filled with nothing but anguish and resentment.
"I will never agree!" She trembled all over, each word bursting from her lips. "I will never give my pure, innocent Helaena to Rhaenyra's bastard—!"
"Never! You can forget it!"
She turned and rushed toward her father as if he were her last lifeline, clutching Lord Hand Otto's sleeve with both hands, her fingernails digging into his clothes.
Her eyes were full of pleading.
"Father! Father, say something!"
"You can't let them do this to Helaena! Say something!"
Lord Hand Otto's expression darkened.
Helaena could marry any noble, but she must never be married off to Rhaenyra's bastard as part of an alliance...
"Alicent! Mind your station and your words!" The anger Viserys had bottled up all night, along with his frustration and helplessness, finally found an outlet.
He snapped at his wife, who looked ready to collapse. "Look at yourself!"
"You're acting nothing like a queen!"
"I'm her mother! I gave birth to her! I raised her! I loved her for thirteen years!"
"Of course I have the right to decide her future!" Alicent cried at the king, her voice hoarse and broken.
"Viserys, you can't... You can't do this to us..."
"Your Majesty, I will not accept this marriage alliance," Lord Hand Otto said.
"If the Queen and the Hand insist on rejecting this proposal of reconciliation..." Rhaenyra's icy voice cut in.
She had risen from the ground and brushed the dust from her skirts, wearing an air of superiority. "Then we can take the easy way and return to the beginning, to the most primitive method."
"An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth."
"Ancient and fair."
Otto looked at Rhaenys, the Sea Snake, Daemon, Rhaenyra, and the other Blacks. He knew exactly what they were trying to do.
"Ugh." A growl came from Aemond, whose mouth was gagged. His restrained body suddenly surged with astonishing strength as he twisted and struggled.
The muscles in the arms of several burly Kingsguard bulged as they struggled to hold him down. They nearly lost their grip.
The Kingsguard were all astonished by the strength the prince was displaying.
"Hand, this is a family matter," Viserys said. He had always been pleased with Otto, who had served him dutifully for so many years.
But Otto could not bear to yield this time. "Your Majesty, Helaena also has Hightower blood."
Seeing Otto stand so firm and refuse to back down, Viserys said coldly, "Am I not the king? Can I not even decide whom my own daughter marries?"
"Or do you expect to make every decision about my family from now on?"
Faced with the king's pointed words, Otto had no choice but to bow his head. "I would never, Your Majesty. You have the right to decide matters concerning your family."
Perhaps His Majesty also understood what it would mean for Helaena to marry Jacaerys...
If Helaena married Jacaerys, it would greatly strengthen the legitimacy of this bastard.
Rhaenyra's three bastards were already suspected of being illegitimate by the nobles of the Seven Kingdoms.
This marriage alliance would signal to the nobles of the Seven Kingdoms that the Greens had bowed to the Blacks.
It would also show that the Greens recognized Jacaerys as legitimate, rather than as the rumored bastard of House Stron whose parentage was in doubt.
This was exactly what Rhaenyra had always wanted...
Otto was furious. Viserys was clearly far too biased toward Rhaenyra.
Viserys rubbed his twitching temple, utterly exhausted.
The king no longer looked at his wife, who was on the verge of breaking down. Instead, he looked directly at the young princess huddled at the edge of the Greens' ranks.
"Helaena."
His daughter was always so quiet, like a shadow.
"Your father respects your wishes," he said gently. "What you want matters most."
"Tell me, are you... willing to accept this betrothal?"
Everyone's gaze fell upon Helaena Targaryen.
Helaena felt those gazes like red-hot needles, stinging her again and again.
She looked at her mother, supported by others, weeping as she watched her.
She looked at her maternal grandfather, Otto, standing in silence.
At last, her gaze passed over everyone and fell on Aemond, lying on the ground and shaking his head at her.
She closed her eyes.
Her long eyelashes trembled like butterfly wings.
After a long while, she gave a faint but clear reply:
"I... am willing, Father."
Hearing that her daughter had been forced to agree, Queen Alicent looked even more despairing.
"Very well," Viserys said, bringing the matter to a final decision.
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