Rhaenyra's position as crown prince is Redd's bottom line. If Rhaenyra is abolished, Redd will regard that transaction as waste paper.
His dragon, his fleet, and his army will cross Driftmark, appear in Blackwater Bay, and set foot on the territory of Seven Kingdoms.
By that time, no one can stop him. Velaryon's fleet cannot, Targaryen's dragon cannot, and Seven Kingdoms's coalition forces cannot.
Therefore, Rhaenyra's position as crown prince cannot be moved.
Viserys closed his eyes and opened them again.
The shadow of the dragon on the ceiling seemed to be clearer, perhaps because his eyes had adapted to the darkness, or perhaps because the moon came out from behind the clouds. The moonlight passed through the gaps in the curtains, casting a silver-white, slender light on the ceiling, which happened to fall on the shadow of the dragon, making it look like it had been coated with silver scales by the moonlight.
Alicent didn't bother him. She didn't add fuel to the fire, didn't say anything more, didn't do anything unnecessary.
She just lay beside him quietly, holding his hand, breathing evenly and slowly, like a person who had really fallen asleep. She knew he was thinking.
Thinking about Otto, thinking about Rhaenyra, thinking about Aegon, thinking about Redd, thinking about Iron Throne, thinking about Seven Kingdoms's future, thinking about what he has never thought about in his whole life, about the unbridgeable gap between power and family affection.
She doesn't need to make a decision for him. She just needs to make sure that the decision goes in the direction she wants after he makes it.
Viserys thought about it for a long time. It took so long that the candle was completely burned out, and the wick bent, fell, and went out in the last wisp of smoke. Only the silvery white and weak light of the moonlight filtering through the gaps in the curtains was left in the palace.
He took his hand out from Alicent's fingers and rubbed the center of his brow. The wrinkles were smoothed out a bit under his fingers, and then they bounced back, like a compressed spring.
He needs Otto back. Not because Otto has the ability - there are many capable people, Bisbury has the ability, Wilder has the ability, Lannister also has the ability.
He needs Otto to come back because Otto will not lose his position in front of Rhaenyra.
Other ministers will be more or less lost under the light of Rhaenyra. They will say some things they don't want to say, do some things they don't want to do, and make some concessions and compromises they would not make.
It's not because they are weak, but because the light of Rhaenyra is so bright that it takes much more strength and courage than you imagine to keep a clear head and a firm stand in front of it.
Otto will not. Otto's eyes will not be blinded by anyone's light. Otto's position will not be shaken by anyone.
Otto will always be Otto, and will always be the old fox who is the first to speak on Small Council and the last to shut up. After leaving the conference room, he can still pull your sleeve in the corridor and say three more words in your ear.
For such a person, you may hate him, you may be on guard against him, you may be relieved when he is not around.
But when you find that you are surrounded by people who are obedient and nodding yes to you, you will think of him.
I remember his "No, Your Majesty, you are wrong" look in his eyes, his "I told you so" expression when you made a wrong decision, and his "It's okay, Your Majesty, I have a way" tone when you are in trouble.
You need such a person by your side. Not because you like him, but because you need him.
Viserys took a deep breath, and then slowly exhaled.
In the quiet palace, that breath was like a sigh that had been suppressed for too long and was finally released.
He felt that his chest felt a little empty and relaxed after that sigh. The decision itself was more tiring than the content of the decision.
Once the decision is made, all that is left is execution, and execution is simple and mechanical, and does not require so much brain and heart energy.
He glanced at the night outside the window. The moon had already turned to the west, hanging on the Blackwater Bay sea, like a shining silver coin that had been bitten by someone.
The waves on the sea were sparkling, and the light spots flickered in and out of the waves, as if someone was striking a match in the distance.
He was a little sleepy. After making the decision, the voices that had been fighting in his mind finally quieted down, like a group of tired children, each finding a corner and falling asleep.
His eyelids are getting heavier and heavier, his thoughts are getting blurry, his consciousness is like a ship that is slowly sinking to the bottom of the water, and the deck is being submerged bit by bit by the dark sea water.
Let's wait for two more days. He said to himself in his heart. When his body is better, when he is more energetic, when the ministers say "everything is fine" in front of him a few more times, he will pick up the pen and write a letter.
The letter will be very short, very polite, and very official - like "I have been feeling unwell recently, and Small Council needs someone to take charge of the overall situation. Hai Tarth Earl is idle at Oldtown, so why not come to King's Landing to help me share some of my work?"
He will not reveal any need for Otto in the letter, will not let Otto feel that he is begging him to come back, and will not let Otto read any hint of "the king cannot do without me" between the lines of the reply.
He is the king. When he brings others back, it is his gift, not his request.
His breathing became even and slow, and his body completely relaxed, sinking into the soft goose down mattress and thick velvet bedding, like a piece of iron being thrown into a sponge.
Alicent opened his eyes.
She turned her head and looked at Viserys's profile in the moonlight. Under the moonlight, those wrinkles became deeper and clearer than during the day, as if someone had carved them on his face with a knife.
His mouth was slightly open, and his breathing was heavy and slow, with the kind of phlegm sound deep in the throat that only older men or men who have been sick for a long time have.
She looked at it for a long time, then gently took her hand out of his and placed it on her stomach.
The little thing in the belly moved a little - just once, as if it was turning over, stretching, or beating with its small, soft fist that was not yet full-grown.
Her hand gently touched the quilt, as if she was comforting the unborn little thing, and also as if she was comforting herself.
She thought of her father's letter. Those words were written in the letter, and she remembered every word.
"Try not to start a dispute with Rhaenyra", "Show weakness, give in, and let everyone feel that Rhaenyra is unshakable", "Wait until His Majesty feels uneasy, wait until Small Council is the voice of Rhaenyra, wait until His Majesty feels that his power is being lost."