The moment Viserys finished speaking, thunderous applause once again filled the throne room.
Daemon bowed slightly, a sly smile flickering in his violet eyes. He knew that this performance, staged for all of Westeros to see, had ended perfectly. From this day onward, he was no longer the Rogue Prince his brother had banished from King's Landing, but a man who had rendered great service to House Targaryen, the staunchest supporter of the Iron Throne.
Over the next few days, the tournament continued as usual.
The archery contests and team melees that followed were just as thrilling. Expert archers from across the Seven Kingdoms struck their targets with unerring precision, drawing wave after wave of cheers; teams of knights clashed with swords in the lists, raising clouds of dust and setting blood racing. Yet, for some reason, the atmosphere throughout the tournament grounds was strangely subdued.
There were no more moments that commanded everyone's attention like Cole's victory, nor any spectacles as breathtaking as Daemon's return on dragonback.
It was as though everyone had tacitly agreed to remain mild and restrained, as though all the undercurrents from before had utterly "vanished" with Daemon's return and the embrace between the king and his princely brother.
Over those days, Daemon barely left Viserys's side.
Every morning, he appeared punctually in the king's study and sat nearby while Viserys attended to affairs of state.
At noon, the two would head out to the gardens to eat together, just as they had as children, chatting about all manner of amusing things.
In the afternoon, they sat side by side in the tournament's main stand, watching the knights compete below.
Viserys seemed determined to make up, all at once, for all the years he had failed to spend with his younger brother.
Keeping Daemon beside