The Prince and His Flower

F O R T Y - F O U R

"Dracarys." Rhaenyra wondered how one word, made for destruction and terror, could bring such grief and sadness. As Visenya's pyre burned, Rhaenyra looked at Aemma, her face full of sadness as she held Luke's hand. 

"I'm sorry," Aemma whispered to her sister who never lived. Luke squeezed Aemma's hand reassuringly as he watched the flames dance and smoke rise in plumes. Jace was silent, his face solemn. 

Aemma's heart ached as she watched, wondering how many others would die because of her. She wanted nothing more than to cry, scream, and give herself to the ocean. But she knew she had to remain strong for her mother, who looked so riddled with grief that it was a shock she could still remain standing. 

Aemma turned her head as she watched members of the Queensguard draw their swords at the intruder. Aemma craned her neck to see who it was, and had to mentally restrain herself from weeping at his feet.

"I mean no harm, brothers." Ser Erryk removed his helm and knelt in front of Daemon, who looked down at Aemma's protector curiously. He reached into his bag, and held out a crown; Viserys' crown. 

Aemma brought her hand to her lips in shock, stifling a gasp. Ser Erryk must have risked his life to escape Kings Landing, all for her family.

"I swear to ward the Queen with all my strength, and give my blood for hers. I shall take no wife, hold no lands, father no children, guard her secrets, obey her commands, ride at her side, and defend her name and honor." Ser Erryk then turned to Aemma, "I swore to protect you, my Princess. I intend to keep my oath."

Daemon gently placed the crown on Rhaenyra's head, ignoring the jealousy that flared deep within him, and knelt in front of her.

"My Queen." Was all he said. Aemma was the second to kneel, looking up at her mother with pure adoration. Soon everyone was kneeling, paying their respects to the new Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, Rhaenyra Targaryen.

Jace, Luke, Aemma, and the small council all watched as the Painted Table was lit up by the candles underneath. Aemma wondered how much time they had left before an all-out war broke out between the two houses. Small statuettes were placed on the table, showing which houses declared for what ruler.

Aemma watched her mother enter the room, surrounded by four guards. She looked every bit as graceful and elegant as a queen should look, her crown sitting proudly upon her head. 

"Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, First of Her Name, Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men. Lady of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm." Daemon announced proudly. "Your Grace."

"Wine, my Queen?" Rhaena offered the cup to Rhaenyra.

"Thank you, Rhaena." Rhaenyra accepted the cup, nodding for her and Baela to join her as she approached the Painted Table.

"What is our standing?" Rhaenyra asked, acutely aware of all the eyes on her.

"We have 30 knights, 100 crossbowmen, and 300 men-at-arms." Aemma frowned at the small number of forces present on Dragonstone. "Dragonstone is relatively easy to defend, but as an instrument of conquest, our army leaves a lot to be desired. We've sent word to my lawmen in the City Watch, I'll have some support there but I cannot speak for numbers"

"We already have declarations from Celtigar and Staunton, Massey, and Bar Emmon." Maester Gerardys informed the Queen.

"My lady mother was an Arryn, the Vale will not turn their cloak against their own kin." Rhaenyra gestured to the Vale on the Painted Table

"Riverrun was always a close friend to your father, Your Grace. Thanks to Prince Daemon's acquiescence, I've already sent ravens to Lord Grover." Maester Gerardys said.