Night fell.
Viserys hosted a grand banquet in the Red Keep.
Rhaenyra, dressed in a black gown, sat beside him.
When the doors opened once more, Alicent entered the hall in a green gown, leading Aegon by the hand. The boy wore a robe of gold.
For a brief moment, the hall seemed to fall silent. Many sharp-eyed guests had already sensed the quiet tension beneath the surface.
As king, Viserys was no fool. He could clearly feel the growing conflict between his wife and his daughter.
Yet he wished to make it up to Rhaenyra while also avoiding harm to Alicent.
In the end, all he could do was stand between them, endlessly mediating, using gifts of gold and jewels to keep up the illusion of peace.
Alicent stepped to Viserys's side and gently kissed his cheek. Then she turned to Rhaenyra.
"My dear daughter," she said warmly, "today is your father's and my wedding anniversary. Perhaps you should offer us your blessing."
The words darkened Rhaenyra's expression, but she still forced a smile.
"Happy fifth anniversary to you and Father."
The blessing was cold, yet it made Viserys laugh aloud, his face full of satisfaction.
Watching from the side, Aegon could not help but find it amusing. His father truly excelled at deceiving himself.
"Father," Aegon said sweetly, "I wish you and Mother happiness and long life."
As he spoke, he produced a small gift box.
When it opened, a dazzling black gemstone lay inside.
"This obsidian gem is for you," Aegon said. "The moment I saw it, I thought of you—mysterious and powerful, just like Balerion."
Viserys was clearly delighted.
Balerion was one of the legendary dragons brought from Valyria by House Targaryen, the greatest of the three founding dragons. He had lived for two hundred years and was known as the Black Dread.
Viserys had been Balerion's final rider—one of the few achievements he truly took pride in.
Sadly, by the time Viserys mounted him, Balerion was already near death. He carried his rider over King's Landing three times before dying of old age in the Dragonpit in 94 AC.
"I like this gift very much," Viserys said warmly. "On your naming day, I will prepare something special for you as well. Thank you."
He kissed Aegon on the cheek, then lifted him onto his lap.
Sitting in his father's arms, Aegon pointed at a dish on the table.
"Father, I want eel pie. Can you get me some?"
Viserys loved feeling needed by his family. It gave him the comforting illusion of harmony.
He carefully picked up a piece of eel pie and brought it to Aegon's mouth himself.
Lost in this moment of fatherly affection, Viserys failed to notice the shift in Rhaenyra's mood.
Rhaenyra, the only surviving child of Viserys I and Queen Emma, had been the center of attention since birth.
She had ridden a dragon at seven, grown up surrounded by endless affection, and was known throughout the Seven Kingdoms as the Realm's Delight.
Everyone had always revolved around her.
And then Aegon was born.
The nobles who once flattered her turned to Alicent without hesitation, as though Aegon were the heir Viserys had chosen.
Yet she was the rightful one—the Princess of Dragonstone, the future ruler of the Iron Throne.
The more she thought about it, the angrier she became.
Her gaze burned as it landed on Aegon, who happened to be looking at her as well.
Their eyes met.
Aegon suddenly showed her a strange smile.
Then, in an instant, his expression changed. He tugged gently at Viserys's collar and spoke in a small, wronged voice.
"Father, why don't you hug Sister too? She looks very angry. It's all my fault."
Viserys was startled. He turned to Rhaenyra and saw her dark expression, his brow slowly furrowing.
Years ago, Queen Emma had endured a terrible labor. Faced with losing both mother and child, or cutting Emma open to save the baby, he had chosen the latter.
Emma died. The child lived for only one day.
Crushed by guilt and anger—especially toward Daemon—he had named Rhaenyra his heir.
For years, she had never disappointed him.
But ever since Aegon's birth, she seemed to have changed overnight.
She had grown jealous, unable to bear his kindness toward others. She worried over every slight, became sensitive and sharp, her face often clouded with resentment.
By contrast, Aegon—still only a child—was innocent, sweet, and thoughtful. He knew how to please him and often showed concern for his health.
As these thoughts crossed his mind, Viserys's expression darkened.
He gently pinched Aegon's soft cheek.
"She's already fourteen," he said lightly. "She doesn't need me to hold her anymore. Don't worry about her. What else would you like to eat? I'll get it for you."
His indulgent tone made the veins on Rhaenyra's forehead throb.
She stared at Aegon in silence.
Even if she told Viserys about the smile Aegon had given her just now, he would never believe it.
The banquet hall was full of people.
And in one shadowed corner, a thin young man watched quietly, his eyes flickering.
He had seen the entire exchange between Aegon and Rhaenyra.