Six-year-old Jacaerys was already old enough to understand what Aemond meant.
He flew into a rage.
"Who are you calling a bastard? My dragon egg hatched—I'm not a bastard!"
"Pfft." Aemond laughed, running a hand through his long silver hair. "Oh really? Do you even believe that yourself when you say it?"
Jacaerys's face flushed red with anger, but Aemond still refused to stop.
"I'm telling you, you're a bastard, and that whore of yours—"
"Cough, cough!"
A dry cough cut him off. Aegon, along with Helena and a sleepy Daeron with messy silver hair, appeared at the far end of the corridor.
"Congratulations, brother," Aegon said as he walked over. "You didn't disappoint me. I'm proud of you, Aemond."
He passed straight by Jacaerys and the others, wrapped Aemond in a tight hug, and ignored everyone else completely.
The boys who had been left standing glared in anger—but none of them dared to say a word.
They weren't afraid of Aemond, nor of Helena or Daeron.
They were afraid of Aegon.
Looking across the entire court, Aegon was the only one who dared to throw a sack over their heads and beat them senseless.
Two years ago, Jacaerys had been dragged into a sack and beaten. Afterward, he complained to Viserys, and Aegon had been punished.
What followed was retaliation far worse than before.
Since then, Lucerys and the others had suffered more than once—simply for being associated with Jacaerys.
From that day on, Jacaerys learned one harsh truth:
Aegon was ruthless—and he liked hurting people by striking at those around them.
That was why the second generation of the Blacks, led by Jacaerys, felt a deep, instinctive fear whenever they saw Aegon.
Aemond looked surprised.
"Brother? Sister? Daeron? Why are you here?"
"You're our younger brother," Helena said softly. She still didn't speak much, but she was no longer as silent as she had been in childhood. "We were worried."
Only Daeron looked unhappy. He was still in his sleep clothes, silver hair a mess, eyes half-closed.
"Are we fighting?" he mumbled. "I'm so tired. Can we go back to sleep after?"
"Fighting?" Aegon chuckled. "What's so interesting about fighting these little 'Strong' boys?"
The open contempt in Aegon's eyes made Jacaerys snap.
With a furious shout, he charged straight at Aegon, reckless and desperate, as if ready to fight to the death.
But the gap in age and strength was obvious.
Over the past few years, Aegon had never stopped training.
He kicked Jacaerys hard in the stomach.
The boy flew backward and landed at Lucerys's feet, clutching his belly and crying out in pain.
Aegon's playful gaze shifted to Lucerys, who screamed in terror.
The Kingsguard arrived at once.
Aegon raised an eyebrow in mild surprise.
The men on duty tonight were the twins—Erryk and Arryk.
"You two on duty tonight?" Aegon said casually. "That's rare. Care to share a drink later?"
Arryk hesitated, clearly tempted. Erryk, however, remained calm and bowed politely.
"My apologies, Your Highness. Perhaps another time. May I ask what happened here?"
"Nothing serious," Aegon replied. "I just taught Jacaerys a lesson. I don't know who he takes after—he can't control himself at all."
The meaning was sharp, but Erryk pretended not to notice.
He helped Jacaerys up, preparing to report the matter to the king.
The conflict between the queen and the princess was no secret anymore. As one of Viserys's Kingsguard, Erryk knew better than to involve himself—especially when even the king couldn't handle it properly.
He shot Arryk a warning glance.
Arryk understood—but ignored it anyway and stepped closer to Aegon.
"Your Highness, are you hurt?" he asked with concern.
Erryk's expression darkened.
He had warned his brother countless times not to take sides so openly.
But Arryk refused to listen. He had already chosen to support Prince Aegon.
With that, Erryk escorted Jacaerys and the others toward the hall and sent word to Viserys.
Before long, many people had gathered in High Tide Hall.
When Viserys learned that Aemond had claimed Vhagar, he felt genuine joy.
This was a great increase in the strength of House Targaryen.
What pleased him even more was that although Aegon had clashed directly with Jacaerys, he hadn't gone too far.
The injuries were minor.
Above all, Viserys feared bloodshed within his own family.
In recent years, Aegon had grown increasingly outstanding, and support for him throughout the realm was quietly rising.
At times, Viserys worried that Aegon might develop ambitions he shouldn't have.
But so far, Aegon had always known his limits.
Aside from occasionally being guided by Alicent, he had never overstepped his authority.
"Aegon," Rhaenyra said sharply, "Jacaerys is my son. How could you strike him so hard?"
"And let me remind you—questioning royal blood is treason."
Viserys didn't take her words too seriously.
This time, the conflict was between Aegon and Jacaerys, not between Alicent and Rhaenyra.
Surely Aegon had only been influenced by rumors.
"Enough, Rhaenyra," Viserys began. "They're children. There's no need to—"
He intended to smooth things over as usual, have Aegon apologize, and end the matter.
But this time, Aegon interrupted him.
"Did I strike too hard?" he asked calmly. "He attacked first. I truly don't know who he takes after—he can't even control himself."
As he spoke, Aegon casually brushed his fingers through Helena's soft silver hair.
"Such beautiful silver hair," he said lightly. "A true gift from the gods to us Targaryens."
He turned to Aemond, his expression serious.
"Did you receive this gift?"
Aemond smiled without meaning to.
"Of course. The blood of the dragon flows in me."
Then he looked at Daeron, grinning as he rubbed the boy's messy hair.
"And it seems our little Daeron received it as well."
Almost at the same time, Aegon, Helena, Aemond, and Daeron all looked toward Jacaerys, Lucerys, and Joffrey.
The hall fell into a strange silence.
Aegon had said nothing outright—yet everything was clear.
Even Alicent nearly lost her composure.
Inside, she found it almost amusing. Until now, Viserys had still believed Aegon to be obedient and uninterested in power.
"Silver hair may be a gift from the gods," Daemon said coolly, purple eyes locked on Aegon, "but even gods make mistakes."
He had only just reunited with Rhaenyra, and naturally felt compelled to defend her.
Seeing her at a disadvantage, he stepped forward, trying to crush this arrogant boy with sheer presence.
Viserys sensed the situation slipping out of control and was about to assert his authority—
—but Aegon spoke first.
"Is that so?"
He rose to his feet and met Daemon's gaze without the slightest fear.
"I don't think the gods were careless. Perhaps they simply chose not to give it. Or maybe they weren't ready."
He smiled faintly.
"Of course, being able to ride a dragon proves the blood of the Dragonlord. So maybe the gods truly were distracted."
"After all," Aegon added lightly, "they finally reunited with their old lover. It's no wonder they've been careless lately. Don't you agree, Uncle?"
Daemon's expression darkened. Even Rhaenyra's face twitched.
"Enough!" Viserys roared. "We are family!"
"Family stands together," he continued, "not against one another. This ends here. I will hear no more of these rumors."
"Father is right," Aegon said pleasantly. "We are a loving family."
He bowed slightly.
"Good night, Sister. Good night, Uncle."
With a smile, he turned and left.
Without a word, Alicent, Helena, Aemond, and the others followed him.
Viserys watched Aegon's retreating figure and felt a sudden chill.
For the first time, he realized he was losing control.
Not only Viserys—even Corlys Velaryon stared after Aegon, his expression heavy.
He had once believed that the cunning Otto Hightower was the true core of the Greens.
After Otto was dismissed as Hand, Corlys assumed Alicent would take his place.
But now, it was clear—
Everything had changed.
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