Upon seeing the figure and hearing the voice, everyone present rose to their feet as a sign of respect.
Rhaenys and Rhaenyra stood up from their seats, both looking at their cousin and father with astonishment.
Viserys, dragging his heavy body, made an appearance—something that caught most people off guard.
"Father, sit here," Rhaegar said, supporting Viserys as they moved past the long table toward the empty seat between Rhaenys and Rhaenyra.
That was the head seat of the banquet.
"No need," Viserys said, grasping his eldest son's arm. He shook his head and smiled, saying, "I like this seat."
With that, he waved his hand, signaling Aegon and Aemond to move aside, and then sat on the far side of the long table.
Once seated, to his left was the astonished Corlys, and to his right, Helaena, who was holding onto her young nephew.
Aegon and Aemond exchanged glances, abandoning their original plan to sit there. Instead, they moved past Helaena and took seats next to little Daeron.
Seeing this, Rhaegar felt something odd and said softly, "Father, you haven't seen Aunt Rhaenys in a long time. You could also hold Baelon."
"You sit there," Viserys replied disinterestedly, explaining, "If I sit here alone, I can see all of you."
Rhaegar glanced around.
Sitting alone on one side of the long table indeed allowed him to have a clear view of everyone on both sides and across from him.
"Alright then, I'll have the attendants start the banquet," Rhaegar said with a smile before taking his seat beside Rhaenyra.
Once father and son were seated, the others followed suit.
Corlys nodded slightly toward Viserys, subtly assessing his complexion and forming a judgment in his mind.
The assassination attempt at Yronwood had dealt a critical blow to the king's health.
Yet, Viserys showed no sign of melancholy. Instead, he beamed with joy as he took young Aemond from Helaena and played with him.
Daemon, seated at the far end of the table, kept a watchful eye on his brother.
Seeing Viserys struggling to catch his breath but still maintaining a smile, Daemon furrowed his brows in surprise.
Laenor sat between him and Rhaenyra, while several key figures occupied the other side.
Soon, cheerful music filled the hall, setting the mood for the evening.
Attendants hastened their pace in serving dishes, and thick white candles, as wide as sea bowls, were lit on the long table, dispelling the dimness.
In this peaceful and harmonious atmosphere, the guests became more lively again.
Corlys raised a toast to Viserys and briefly discussed the fortifications of the Stepstones.
With the Three Daughters to the east and Dorne to the west, the Stepstones, positioned in the Narrow Sea, were of utmost strategic importance.
Viserys chuckled, "Aegon is a good child. He will hold the Stepstones on behalf of his brother."
"Let's hope so," Corlys said, casting a sidelong glance at Aegon, who was continuously drinking, a hint of disdain flashing in his eyes.
On the other side of the table, Rhaegar took Baelon, who was kicking his little legs, into his arms, a smile tugging at his lips.
His father waking up unexpectedly had significantly improved the atmosphere of tonight's banquet.
Like a towering tree that stabilizes the kingdom.
Rhaenyra rubbed her sore wrist and leaned in to whisper, "Is someone still missing?"
"Who are you referring to?" Rhaegar asked with a sly smile.
Rhaenyra widened her eyes. "Alicent!"
The royal family's scandals naturally wouldn't spread, but Alicent was still the queen. Her absence from the banquet was a serious breach of etiquette.
"Hmm," Rhaegar hummed, amused.
Rhaenyra was puzzled, her violet eyes flickering with suspicion.
Something was off.
Creak—
The great doors swung open once again, and the music quickened.
Rhaenyra turned her head to look.
Alicent entered the hall with her head bowed in silence.
Her eyes were red at the corners, as if she had just been crying. Her face looked haggard, and she wore an unfamiliar red gown.
Rhaenyra's gaze grew stranger as she peered past Alicent into the hallway.
Two Redcloaks strode in, pushing a limping Otto Hightower between them.
Rhaegar leaned close to Rhaenyra's ear and teased, "Otto has been exiled to Myr to cultivate wastelands. Before leaving, he left Alicent with a final message—reminding her and her children to behave."
Alicent was still manageable.
Without Otto's "fatherly influence" and with the weight of familial ties binding her, she would eventually fall in line.
The real question was whether their father would alter Otto's punishment.
Otto, on the other hand, was easier to deal with.
The Oldtown faction had been dismantled, and their patron house, House Hightower, had lost much of its prestige. Now he was being sent to an unfamiliar land like Myr.
For the rest of his life, he would be working to develop the kingdom's new territory.
Not that it was an unfamiliar job for him—Otto had been a master at such things.
With Alicent's arrival, the mood of the banquet subtly shifted.
Aemond's single eye widened in disbelief, nearly slamming his fist on the table. He couldn't fathom why his mother had come at all.
"Mother!"
Young Daeron, still innocent, called out warmly before rushing into Alicent's arms like a bird returning to its nest.
Aegon merely glanced at her before setting down his half-empty goblet.
Helaena's eyes lit up as she looked toward Rhaegar, a small smile forming on her lips.
"Mother, I missed you so much," Daeron sobbed as he hugged Alicent's legs, his eyes welling with tears.
He was the only prince who hadn't set foot on the battlefield and had always remained by his mother's side.
Alicent's sudden confinement had been especially painful for him.
"Don't cry. Mother will find time to be with you," Alicent said with a forced smile, unable to hide the sorrow in her eyes.
Judging by her father Otto's fate, it would be difficult for her to ever leave that dark little room.
She only feared that her youngest son would not receive the treatment he deserved.
"Mother, sit with me."
Little Daeron wiped away his tears and tugged at Alicent, trying to lead her to a seat.
Rhaenyra instinctively stepped aside, watching the mother and son timidly.
"No!"
Alicent shook her head in refusal. Holding Daeron's hand, she walked toward Viserys, who was silently watching.
Viserys remained expressionless, his gaze complicated as he looked at her.
She was his wife, though many times she was prone to overthinking—and often acted upon it.
Alicent glanced at Viserys, sitting alone in a corner where there was still room for another chair. Hesitating, she asked, "Are you alright?"
It wasn't a question—just a simple greeting.
"As well as can be."
Viserys looked away, his heart feeling especially heavy. He signaled to a servant, "Bring a chair for the Queen."
The servant moved swiftly.
Alicent soothed Daeron as they returned to their seats. Once seated, she habitually set out tableware for Viserys before lowering her head, remaining silent.
The couple sat with their heads turned in opposite directions, like strangers.
Rhaenyra, watching the scene, spoke discontentedly, "Why not just lock her up in the tower?"
If Alicent was reinstated, she would only be a problem.
Rhaegar nodded slightly but said, "Father needs someone suitable to take care of him. No one is more attentive than Alicent."
After all, they had been married for over a decade, raising children together.
It was impossible to say that Father had no real feelings for her.
Having Alicent by his side was far more effective than a hundred maesters or attendants.
His father had made sacrifices for him, and he would reciprocate.
The brief interlude passed quickly.
As the cheerful tune ended, a more elegant melody, suited for a banquet, filled the hall.
Corlys picked up his knife and sliced off a piece of roasted meat, chewing as his expression grew darker.
He had not forgotten his purpose for the night.
Clang!
The knife and fork clattered onto the table as Corlys wiped his mouth with a handkerchief and broke the silence. "Your Majesty, I have something to ask."
Viserys, enjoying Alicent's care, paused slightly before smiling. "Tonight is a family gathering. Everyone here is kin—speak freely."
Though he said that, he already had an idea of what was coming.
Sure enough, Corlys's gaze swept over Daemon and Rhaegar before he sharply questioned, "Dorne has yet to fully submit. House Velaryon has given everything to this war—I even lost my eldest son. So why is the Iron Throne choosing to negotiate peace now?"
He summarized the situation, aired his grievances, and then voiced his challenge.
Viserys frowned subtly and replied, "Lord Corlys, peace is a blessing for the realm. The kingdom needs time to recover."
"And how do you intend to control Dorne's remaining resistance?"
Corlys pressed further.
Viserys shook his head. "We will blockade all routes in and out of Dorne, and with Prince Qyle's support, it will not be an issue."
With Sunspear in Targaryen hands, the outcome was already decided.
But Corlys, frustrated by Viserys's repeated evasions, grew increasingly dissatisfied. "Your Majesty, I lost my only son for this war. If we abandon the conquest of Dorne so hastily, I cannot accept it."
"Are you threatening me?"
Viserys's smile faded. Though his body was frail, he showed no weakness. "Lord Corlys, it was House Targaryen that began this war, and it will be House Targaryen that ends it."
He would not let Corlys, despite his power, act as though he were still the Sea Snake of a decade ago.
Corlys, thrown off by the rebuttal, raised his voice. "I lost my heir. Does the kingdom not owe me a proper answer?"
Rhaegar watched quietly, scooping a spoonful of goat's milk into baby Baelon's soft little mouth.
Someone would speak on his behalf.
Daemon leaned back lazily in his chair, tilting his head with an amused smirk. "Laenor's lover killed him. You should be looking for that man."
"Daemon, this is none of your concern!"
Corlys erupted in anger, shouting him down.
Daemon remained unfazed, still grinning as he deliberately drawled, "This is my brother's kingdom. His castle will always have a place for me."
Viserys glanced at him but said nothing.
"Restrain yourself."
Laena reached under the table, tugging at her husband's hand in a quiet warning.
Daemon ignored her, shrugging off her grip as his gaze darkened. "If you won't let go of the war, are you planning to drag the whole realm into destruction with Dorne?"
He locked eyes with Corlys, his stare so intense it seemed to bore a hole through him.
"Pfft—hahaha!"
Aegon, watching the drama unfold, couldn't hold back his laughter.
Corlys's expression instantly darkened as he shot a fierce glare at the boy.
Aegon looked surprised and defiant.
Helena grabbed his arm, her dull fish-like eyes warning him to keep quiet.
Aemond quickly poured him another cup of wine, nudging it toward his lips.
Mother was finally free—don't ruin it by acting like an idiot.
Corlys snorted heavily, deciding not to argue with a foolish boy. Instead, he spoke gravely. "I lost my heir on the battlefield. The Driftmark lost its future lord. Does no one intend to give me an answer?"
As he spoke, his gaze flicked between Viserys and Rhaegar.
He was angry, repeatedly emphasizing the matter of succession.
The royal family had to provide him with a reasonable solution.
Viserys remained silent.
Rhaegar scooped another spoonful of goat's milk into his own mouth, leaving a bit behind for Baelon.
The Sea Snake's intentions were crystal clear.
But things would not go as he wished.
If I am willing, then you shall have it.
If I refuse, you cannot take it—nor can you force it.
Tonight, the lesson would be clear:
It was time to break the Sea Snake's spine.
(End of chapter)