Before entering King's Landing, Aemon had promised himself everything.
But once he got off the boat, his resolve was immediately tested.
At noon, the sea lay still and calm.
Prince Aemon crossed Blackwater Bay, and as he stood at the bow, he could see the grand Mud Gate in the distance.
"There are so many people."
Aemon leaned against the railing, standing on tiptoe to better see the port where crowds moved about like "tiny ants."
The Knights of the Vale stood ready, waiting for the ship to dock.
The voyage had gone smoothly.
Boom!!
Suddenly, a golden blur soared above the towering city wall, piercing through the drifting white clouds in the sky.
In the next instant, the thin mist scattered like smoke.
"Hiss!"
Before the ships on Blackwater Bay had time to react, the golden shadow dove down, one broad, fleshy wing skimming across the sea's surface.
Waves and wind blasted outward, stirring chaos around the surrounding waters.
"Dragon! Protect the prince!"
The Seagull Knight shouted in alarm, throwing himself over little Aemon in an attempt to shield him.
Aemon's vision went dark, and the ship beneath him rocked violently.
Crash!
The waves exploded in a spray, and several of Prince Aemon's ships were thrown off balance by the force of the wind.
The Vale knights shouted in confusion, swaying on their feet, barely able to stand.
The disturbance came and went in a flash.
The golden shadow shot back into the sky, rising thousands of feet before disappearing beyond Blackwater Bay.
"What was that? A dragon?"
Aemon, unfamiliar with fear, craned his neck, still curious.
Ser Ryam kept his eyes on the sky, only relaxing once the creature had vanished: "Yes, it looked like the princess's dragon."
He had caught sight of the golden beast from afar once, back in Gulltown.
Even from a distance, the experience left him soaked in cold sweat.
"My lord, please get up first."
Aemon, suffocated under the weight, squirmed free.
Ser Ryam quickly straightened up to check on him: "Are you hurt, my prince?"
"Thank you, ser." Aemon patted the dust from his clothes, indicating that he was fine.
But inwardly, he thought: It's grown a lot.
It's just a dragon. Not like I haven't seen one before.
. . .
After the brief incident, the ship docked quickly.
With three guards ushering him from all sides, Aemon bounded down from the deck and officially set foot in King's Landing.
He looked around, then scratched his head in confusion.
There was no honor guard to receive him, no royal escort, and no carriage prepared for travel.
Mud Gate, being a port, was bustling with merchants and fishermen.
Mixed into the crowd were nobles and commoners alike.
The Vale knights raised the Royce banner, and nearby, several other standards fluttered.
The roaring lion of House Lannister. The crowned stag of House Baratheon...
Next to the banners of two great houses, the Royce sigil—a vassal house of the Vale—seemed rather unremarkable.
"Let's go."
Aemon frowned, a bit displeased.
Gunthor obeyed the command, his large frame forging ahead and clearing the path like a bulldozer.
Aemon followed behind him, heading toward the gates beneath the massive city wall.
Many knights from the Vale had accompanied them on this journey. Lady Rhea, however, remained behind to arrange lodgings.
Of course, it was also possible she had no desire to meet the king.
"Move aside! Move!"
Aemon, lost in thought, heard the clatter of wheels entering the city.
With the neighing of several white steeds, a luxurious white-lacquered carriage rolled up from across the street.
Two gongs rang out as a squad of royal guards arrived, bearing banners emblazoned with the three-headed red dragon.
A white knight, clad in silver armor and robes, dismounted from the carriage and offered a respectful bow. "My sincerest apologies, prince. There was a minor delay along the way."
Seeing this, Aemon narrowed his eyes, wondering: Is that true?
Did they forget about me and scramble to send someone last minute?
"Is His Majesty busy?" Aemon tilted his head, sensing something off.
The White Knight bowed again, answering politely: "The king is currently holding a royal council. The queen will receive you instead."
"Is that so?"
Aemon placed his hands behind his back and nodded calmly. "Very well. Thank you for your efforts."
"It is my honor!"
The White Knight maintained a dignified air as he lifted the small prince into the carriage. He took the reins himself and set the horses in motion.
Several swift mounts were also provided for the prince's guards.
Surrounded by royal banners bearing the three-headed dragon, the pristine white carriage rolled slowly toward the Red Keep.
People along the roadside paused to watch, their curiosity about the unfamiliar little prince far greater than for the usual noble traffic.
. . .
Red Keep – Maegor's Holdfast
Led by the White Knight, Aemon passed through the bustling outer courtyard and entered the secluded inner palace—an area forbidden to outsiders.
"Thank you."
Aemon murmured his thanks as the White Knight withdrew to settle the guards.
Soon, the corridor of red brick walls fell silent.
Only one small figure remained.
Knock knock.
The knock startled those inside the bedchamber.
Alicent Hightower stood by the window, her back to the light, gently rocking a swaddled infant while humming softly.
Hearing the knock, she turned in surprise.
Peeking from behind the door was a small boot, followed by a familiar little face with silver hair, violet eyes, and creamy pale skin.
The boy smiled mischievously and waved. "Hi, Alicent."
At the sight of him, Alicent's tired expression brightened instantly, blooming into a radiant smile. "Aemon, is that you?"
She passed the swaddle in her arms to the maid and quickly approached.
Her steps were noticeably lighter.
Seeing her so delighted, Aemon lifted his chin proudly. "I'm back from Runestone."
Before he could say more, Alicent grabbed his hand and pulled him into the room, his feet sinking into a plush black-and-white carpet.
She cupped Aemon's round cheeks in both hands, scanning him from side to side. "How was Runestone? I heard Lady Rhea has quite a temper."
Her touch was gentle, his cheeks soft and plump. Clearly, he'd been well-fed and well cared for.
Aemon puffed up his cheeks under the pressure and mumbled, "It was fine. She is my birth mother, after all."
"I'm glad. I was worried you wouldn't adjust to the Vale's climate."
For the first time in a long while, Alicent's face radiated joy. Her smile was warm and unrestrained.
Truly, a queen's beauty was no exaggeration.
She had a gentle and elegant appearance, with a softness that warmed the heart. Her slightly curled hair cascaded over her full neckline, adding a maternal grace to her youthful figure.
When she smiled, she was lovely beyond words.
Aemon rubbed his nose, breathing in the faint floral scent he remembered. He began chatting casually about his life over the past years.
Alicent listened attentively, cradling the boy she'd long regarded as a younger brother on her lap.
When she noticed the hand-embroidered pouch tied to Aemon's waist, the warmth in her smile deepened, like a steaming cup of tea on a cold day.
The bond between them went back many years.
From the moment Aemon was born, Alicent had followed her father into the palace to care for the aging King Jaehaerys.
Aemon's parents disliked one another, and neither paid him much mind.
King Jaehaerys, heartbroken over the death of his son, doted on his great-grandson. After the Great Council of 101, he kept the baby close at all times.
Alicent, then still a girl, became the child's closest caretaker.
The court often whispered about the pair of youths constantly seen around the old king.
They were inseparable.
It wasn't until Aemon turned three and King Jaehaerys passed away in his sleep that the boy was sent to the Vale to be raised by his birth mother, Lady Rhea.
"Now you have a child of your own," Aemon said playfully, covering his mouth to stifle a chuckle.
He pointed to the crying bundle in the maid's arms.
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