The Prince and His Flower

T H I R T Y - T H R E E

Aemma crumpled the piece of parchment in her hand as she stared up at Otto, who sat on the Iron Throne. He looked down at her with his cold, dead, eyes. 

"Will he survive?" Aemma asked, her voice filled with worry. Corlys Velaryon had been away, sailing, pillaging, discovering, for eight years after the death of Laenor, and Aemma had not seen him since, nor Rhaenys, or anyone else. He often sent her gifts and even fashioned her a colorful quill plucked from a parrot in the Summer Isles. He was in the stepstones, fighting the Triarchy when he was slashed in the back.

"The wound is not a concern in itself anymore, it is the fever that is burning him up from within," Otto said, his voice cool and indifferent. "However, it brings the matter of the succession of Driftmark into question."

Aemma looked from Otto to the Queen, who stood next to him.

"Driftmark will pass to Lucerys in the event of our grandsire's death." Aemma said, her back straight as a pole, her hands fisted into her skirts. 

"Lucerys Velaryon was never officially named his heir, and your uncle Vaemond wishes to petition for Driftmark to be inherited by him." Otto said. Aemma frowned as she heard the whispers from the nobles behind her. How could Otto be such a snake that he had to announce this so publicly?

"My father was next in line to inherit Driftmark. After his death, Lucerys is his heir by common sense!" Aemma struggled to keep her voice level, feeling the Queen's eyes on her. Alicent gave her a pleading look, begging her not to cause a scene.

"We will hear petitions from Vaemond, Princess Rhaenys, and Princess Rhaenyra, then we will discuss who is to inherit Driftmark." Otto said, his tone informing Aemma that this is the last he will hear of the matter. 

"My mother is coming here?" She asked, raising her eyebrows in surprise. Her mother has not stepped foot anywhere near Kings Landing for shy of eight long years. Aemma knew the matter must truly be serious if she were to come now. 

"Yes, to petition for Prince Lucerys. They will arrive by the end of the week." Otto said, stunning Aemma. She had seen her family less than a fortnight ago, and now they were coming, by the end of the week, no less.

"I... I see. Is there anything else you require of my presence? Or am I free to take my leave?" Aemma said. Otto frowned, noticing the sharp tone in the young girl's voice. 

"No. Take your leave." Otto said firmly. Aemma turned on her heel and walked out of the throne room, her head held high, ignoring the whispers that surrounded her, and the piercing gaze of Otto as he watched her leave. 

"Truly they cannot be serious!" Aemma fumed as Ser Erryk followed behind her. 

"It seems that they are." Ser Erryk said, a frown on his face. 

"They mean to publicly challenge Luke's claim! They are doing nothing but igniting the rumors that drove my mother out in the first place! This is more than likely Otto's intention." Aemma threw her arms up in dismay as she walked. "Ever since Otto sat on that fucking Throne, he has done nothing but plot against my family." 

"Princess, please. There are many ears around the castle." Ser Erryk quietly urged her. Aemma frowned as she looked around the courtyard. Servants hurried by, and the occasional guard, but nobody to bear witness to Aemma's words. But she knew Larys Strong, Harwin's younger brother and Lord of Harrenhal, had little bees everywhere. She avoided the man at all costs, only seeing him a handful of times over the years, but his beady little eyes followed her everywhere.

"You and I both know it, Erryk. My betrothal to Aemond is simply a tying of loose ends, a way to keep my mother complacent while Otto plans the usurp the Iron Throne." Aemma whispered, her voice full of urgency. Aemma and Aemond had grown closer in the past year and a half, but as Otto schemed, Aemma realized the reality of the World.

"Even if that is true, there is nothing you can do about it, not without endangering yourself." Erryk whispered back. "I will not allow it."

"You won't allow it? I won't allow my family's birthright to be stolen from them!" Aemma whispered, taking in a deep breath as she struggled to keep hold of her temper, her eyes wandering to the training yard.

"Princess, I urge you to think over your actions before they get us both killed. I will allow no harm to come to you. You are safe here, the Queen is your closest ally that can keep you safe. To them, they think you will be obedient and marry Aemond and stand idly by. We both know better than that. Use their ignorance to your advantage." Erryk urged Aemma. He knew the Keep was full of snakes, waiting to feast, and he only hoped that they would be scared of the dragon.

"I intend to. I care about this family deeply, but I will not tolerate treason." Aemma said as they crossed the moat to Maegor's Holdfast. She walked quickly to her chambers, eager to shut herself away from the outside world. 

"Ah, my lovely niece." Aegon said, opening his arms to her. Aemma slapped his arms away, a displeased look on her face.

"Not now, Aegon." She said, ignoring his frown. 

"What is it?" He asked, reaching out and grabbing the sleeve of her dress. Aemma sighed as she turned around to face him.

"My grandsire was wounded. Gravely. There is to be a petition about who inherits Driftmark in the case of his passing." Aemma frowned and Aegon looked confused.

"Why would there be a petition, it would automatically go to your brother, right?" He asked, before the smallest hint of realization dawned on his face. Lucerys was a bastard, or so everyone thought, and Vaemond Velaryon would not be so quick as to let his family's seat fall to one. 

"My uncle is a dim-witted man, with no regard for anyone but himself. He wishes to see my family disinherited for his own gain, and your grandsire seems content to let him do so." Aemma said, her lips set in a thin line. "Where are you off to, anyway?" 

"I need a drink. Something in the city, I'm sick of the wine here." Aegon faked a shudder. Aemma scoffed, of course, Aegon needed a drink. As she was about to turn away, she grabbed his arm.

"Wait. Can I join you? I need something to take my mind off today." She said. 

"Princess-" Ser Erryk started.

"Of course. If it worries Ser Erryk so much, he can come with us." Aegon smiled. "But I suggest we get you into something a little less... Princess-like." Aegon walked toward his and Helaena's chambers, Aemma and Ser Erryk hurriedly following after him.

Aegon tossed a plain white tunic at Aemma and a pair of his pants. Aemma held the clothes up gingerly. 

"They're not dirty. I'm not as much of a pig as you think." Aegon scoffed, rolling his eyes. Aemma simply looked Aegon up and down and chuckled before entering the bathroom so that she may change in peace. 

"I look like a boy." Aemma said as she pulled at the tunic. Aegon's eyes raked over Aemma in his clothes, and he smiled. 

"That is precisely the point. Now, put this on." Aegon held out a hat, so that Aemma may conceal her white hair. 

"Can't I just wear a cloak?" Aemma asked. She and Aegon snuck out often in their youth, and he never made her dress up like so.

"It is the middle of the day. I think it better to look a little less conspicuous." He said, tossing the hat in Aemma's hands when she did not move. Aemma pulled it on with a huff of defiance.  Aegon scoffed as he looked at Aemma's hair sticking out.

"You know, the whole point of the hat was so that your hair was not visible." Aegon clicked his tongue as he roughly shoved all of Aemma's hair under the cap.

"It's itchy." She complained, scratching at the annoying wool. Aegon rolled his eyes.

"Gods, quit complaining. Let's go. Come on!" He clapped his hands as he opened his door and the trio left, making their way to a particularly empty corridor that contained a passageway into the city.