Kinslayer | Aemond Targaryen ☾

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The King sits on his throne with Otto Hightower standing to his right. To the left stand the Queen and three of her children in order from firstborn to last. Aegon, Helaena, Aemond. Each of them as incapable to hide the incredulity in their faces as every courtesan in attendance when their father gets up from the seat and aims for his dagger.

"I...will have your tongue for this," he breathes, gripping the hilt of the blade with the little strength he has left. Loud gasps echo through the high walls of the castle at his words, but not to the ones which provoked his reaction.Vaemond Velaryon has shamelessly called my mother a whore, and us bastards in front of the whole court, yet no sound of surprise was uttered at that.

Before King Viserys has had time to even walk down one step to the dais, silence reigns at the sound of Daemon's sword unsheathing. A swift nod from my mother was all he needed to act. The simplest gesture, announcing Vaemond's life has come to an end.

With a precision only his war experience can give, his sword cuts off his head with a single strike just below the ears, leaving his tongue intact. Liquid, crimson blood pools from his fallen body, flooding all the way to our feet.

"He can keep his tongue," Daemon retorts with a bitter tone. The king falls back to his throne, content with his brother's response.

I press my lips together to stop the laugh from coming out of my mouth. Satisfaction ripples through me as his blood spreads. I stare at it, lost in its color. Red, same as mine.

"Disarm him!" The Hand commands, the guards immediately heeding his word.

"No need," Daemon says, swiping Dark Sister with his clothes to clean the blood before sheathing it back at his waist.

A hand pulls my dress from behind. Luke. His face has paled, his eyes glassy but with no falling tears. His distress makes me feel miserable for my thoughts.

"It will be alright, Luke," I grab his hand in mine. "I promise."

"I did not wish for his death," he whispers back, almost trembling.

"I know." But it was necessary. Vaemond did not only insult our family, he also questioned the king, and if he had gone unpunished for his disobedience and false claims, the rest of the court would soon learn to do the same.

"Call the maesters! Please!" Alicent shouts desperately, climbing the steps to the throne where the king winces in pain. I look around the room, wondering if any of them was in attendance, or at least near enough to arrive fast- my eyes meet Aemond's cold stare. He is unmoving, his gaze completely fixed on me, and I think-no, I know what he sees.

Bastard, bastard, bastard.

"Naerys, go back to your rooms," my mother commands behind me. "The three of you."

So I obey.

๋࣭ ⭑☽︎⋆｡˚

The walk to our chambers has been mostly silent. None of us has dared to speak a word of what just happened, but now that Jace is back inside his own room and it is just me and Luke standing before his door, I break the silence.

"Go on, tell me what's in your mind."

"I don't want the title. I don't want any more bloodshed on my behalf," he mumbles. My heart softens at his troubled expression, his round brown eyes watering again. I know how difficult it is for him to stomach such a gruesome situation.

"Luke, the matter is settled," I tell him. "It already was, before Daemon chopped his head off, grandfather had already proclaimed your right to inherit Driftmark. Vaemond had it coming for himself. "