Justice

"Second." Rhaenys seemed not to see the Queen's collapse, still steady, pressing forward with her terms.

"I hope the younger generation learns to coexist, to understand what family, duty, and honor mean."

Her gaze locked onto the figure in the Greens' crowd who stood aloof, unconcerned.

"I also ask that Prince Aegon remain on Tidepool Island, serving as a squire at my husband Lord Corlys's side for two years."

"Aegon will grow up with Jae and Lucerys, so they can understand and respect one another."

"This way, there will be no more harsh words, no more bloodshed..."

Prince Aegon, who had been hiding behind the crowd, secretly relieved that the storm seemed to have passed him by, heard these words and his handsome face drained of all color in an instant.

Everything that had erupted in the hall tonight—accusations, debates, blood, oaths, marriage alliances.

Even if Aegon were slow, he understood the danger.

Between the Blacks and the Greens, things had reached a point of swords drawn and bows bent. If something happened in the future, and he was held as a hostage...

"No! I won't! Father! Mother! Grandfather!"

Aegon shrieked like a cat with its tail stepped on, completely losing the composure of an eldest son.

"They'll kill me!"

"They'll definitely take the chance to murder me!"

"I'm not going! Not even if I die!"

"Silence! Aegon! Stop your nonsense." Viserys barked, but his brow furrowed deeply.

This demand was clearly excessive.

"No! Viserys! How can you be so biased! So heartless!" Queen Alicent cried out, as if crushed by the final straw, her voice shrill with anguish. "I've already lost one daughter!"

"And now you want to take my eldest son from me too, and hand him over to them?!"

"Are you even a father?!"

Overwhelming grief and rage drove the Queen completely mad.

Without warning, she pushed away the maids supporting her, spread her arms like a moth diving into flame, and charged at Rhaenyra!

She wanted to strangle this woman!

This woman who had threatened to gouge out her Second Son's eyes, who had taken her daughter, who now wanted to take her eldest son, and still wore a face of pity and charity!

"Alicent!!" Viserys rose in shock and fury.

Everyone was stunned by the Queen's sudden, utterly unqueenly, insane outburst.

Rhaenyra reacted quickly. In the instant Alicent reached her, hands about to clamp around her throat, she raised her own hands and seized Alicent's wrists in a death grip!

The two women, once friends, now mortal enemies, stood inches apart, breath mingling, eyes venomous.

"Have you not caused enough trouble, Alicent?!" Rhaenyra gritted her teeth, holding the trembling wrists tight.

"Me?! Am I the one who's gone too far?!" Alicent's face was a mess of tears and fury, her voice breaking.

"All my life! I've done nothing but meet everyone's expectations of me!"

"Playing the obedient daughter! Playing the virtuous, sensible Queen!"

"Always maintaining the so-called stability of the realm, the harmony of the family, and those damned laws and traditions!"

She leaned in, her face nearly touching Rhaenyra's nose, her eyes burning with hatred: "And you! Rhaenyra Targaryen!

"You always do as you please, recklessly!"

"You defy tradition! You trample the laws of the realm!"

"You make all of Westeros pay for your whims!"

"And yet you always put on this act of being persecuted, of being owed!"

"Let her go, Alicent!" Viserys stumbled down from the Iron Throne.

But Alicent's words had burst like a broken dam, unstoppable.

"Duty?! Sacrifice?! Family?!"

"All those pretty words you preach to others—have you lived up to them yourself?!"

"Every duty and sacrifice you've made is just to satisfy your own desires!"

"You hide behind your father's protection, enjoy every privilege, and never bear the cost!"

"And now, you've taken my Helaena, and you want to take my Aegon too!"

"Even so, you still put on this sorrowful, merciful face, as if you're forgiving me!"

"Rhaenyra... is your heart made of iron?!"

Rhaenyra held Alicent's wrists tightly, facing this accusation—a mix of partial truth and prejudice.

For the first time, her pale face showed a flicker of undisguised shame and pain.

It was a searing pain, the kind that came from having one's disguise torn away to reveal the ugliness beneath.

She looked at the face before her—once intimately close, a confidante of countless girlish secrets, now utterly twisted by hatred and tears.

A surge of emotion rose within her, a mix of resentment and something she herself refused to acknowledge.

She shoved hard, sending Alicent stumbling back a step.

"Spare me your hypocritical act, Alicent Hightower!"

She shook her head, tears streaming from her eyes. "Aren't you exhausted too?"

"Hiding behind that mask of righteousness and concern for the greater good?"

"You've always, always looked at me with that judgmental gaze, like a mother!"

"But I only have one mother, and that's Emma Arryn..."

"You blame me—why don't I walk the path set for a good woman, a good princess, according to tradition?"

"The Hightowers behind you have been quietly fueling those rumors about bastards..."

"Do you think I don't know?!"

She took a deep breath, her chest heaving. "At this point, you and I—whose hands are clean?"

"Who is more noble than the other?"

The handmaidens rushed forward to support Alicent, who could barely stand, trembling with fury and grief.

"Alicent..." Viserys steadied his wife's thin shoulders.

He wanted to say something—comfort or defend—but found all words hollow in that moment.

Alicent lifted her head, her eyes brimming with tears as she looked at him. Slowly, she shook her head.

Her voice was soft, yet it cut deeper than any roar: "I hate you, Viserys..."

"I hate how partial you are."

"I hate how... powerless you are."

King Viserys staggered as if struck by lightning.

Perhaps... perhaps marrying Alicent had been a mistake from the start.

He had craved her youth, her beauty, her gentle comfort—only to turn his daughter's closest friend into his wife, and those two sisters into mortal enemies...

"Take the Queen..." He turned his head away, unable to bear the despair in her eyes, and waved a hand weakly. "...to rest. See to her well."

The handmaidens guided Queen Alicent, who no longer resisted, as if her soul had been drained away, and silently left the hall.

Viserys stood there, defeated, staring at the direction his wife had disappeared. A wave of intense self-loathing washed over him.

He loathed his own indecisiveness. He loathed himself for failing to quell the strife. He loathed being a king pushed and forced into every decision.