A Raven in The Dragon's Nest

Chapter 5

The King sat on the Iron Throne, the crown on his head, the ancestral blade of House Targaryen in his hands and his face impassive. The court was not gathered for the morning, but the small council minus one was there and stood on one side. On the other side stood Princess Rhaenyra with Queen Alicent and Prince Daemon. Acting as a wall between the two sides and the King were the Kingsguard, stood at the foot of the Throne. The Hand was the only one missing, and he was the last one to come.

Surprise and then suspicion played on the man's face as he eyed everyone in the room, gaze lingering on Daemon who was smirking at him. "Your Grace" Otto Hightower greeted with a bow, "I was not aware that you would be holding an audience. Else I would have been here earlier," the man said. He moved to join the other members of the Council but was stopped by the Kingsguard. "Your Grace?"

"Stand back in the middle, Otto," the King said sternly. The man listened to his King, confusion on his face. "Five days" the King began, confusing Ser Otto even more. "Though it was some time ago, the details... they fade in memory. My father was a hale and healthy warrior and dragonrider at the peak of his abilities. Jaehaerys named a great royal hunt to celebrate him being named the Hand of the King. Five days later my father lay dead" the King let out a shaky chuckle, and his younger brother's head lowered. "Tourneys last longer" the King took a pause, looking as if reminiscing, "Baelon the Brave, rider of Vhagar, heir to the Iron Throne... dead of a burst belly. The gods have a dark wit."

"It was a grim day. I recall it all too well" Ser Otto said in a low grumbling voice, filled with a sort of sadness that Brynden had not expected from him.

"Yeah..." the King mumbled, "it was a good day for you. Jaehaerys named you Hand in Baelon's stead."

A moment of tense silence followed, Brynden taking that chance to observe the faces of everyone in the room. The Council members and Kingsguard remained passive, as did Daemon surprisingly, head held high and silently gazing at Otto. Rhaenyra's head remained lowered while the Queen resorted to the habit she developed when nervous, picking at the skin around her nail. Their eyes met and she looked away.

"That's hardly how I viewed it, Your Grace" Ser Otto finally said. "It was a duty."

"You served my grandsire nobly in his final days," the King said gently, "you are the man that taught me how to be King."

"You honour me, Your Grace," the Hand said with a small but proud smile.

"Just five days... you went from being another man in Jaehaerys' court to the second most powerful man in the realm. I wonder... how long did it take you to choose yourself over your King?"

The smile fell, replaced by shock. "Your grace?" asked Otto Hightower.

"I will never recover from Aemma's death. But Alicent, she took me through the worst of my grief. She was a calculated distraction. Only now I realize how well calculated it was."

"That is an absurdity" the younger Hightower son argued. "The Queen loves you... as I know you love her."

"Your interests no longer align with those of the realm," the King said, eyes fixed on the man who stood accused. But two sets of eyes were on the Queen, who bit her bottom lip. "Your judgment has been compromised."

"A loyal Hand must tell his King a discomforting truth from time to time, Your Grace. If he doesn't... he's failed as a servant."

"You were a faithful servant, Otto" the King rose. Slowly he descended the steps of the Throne, handing his sword to Ser Harrold. He stopped in front of the Hand of the King. Slowly and with the care he removed the pin of the Hand from the man's vest. "The Crown and the Realm both owe you a debt that can never be repaid. But I can no longer trust your judgment."