𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓣𝓱𝓲𝓻𝓭 𝓢𝓸𝓷

Chapter 11

Two days later, the day had finally arrived. Aegon stood in his chambers, the morning light filtering through the tall windows, casting a golden hue across the room. Today, he would be officially named heir to the Iron Throne, a momentous occasion that would solidify his place in the history of House Targaryen.

He stood before a tall mirror, dressed in a magnificent outfit befitting the occasion. The black and red of his house colors were woven into rich fabrics, adorned with intricate silver and gold embroidery. As he adjusted the collar of his cloak, a sense of gravity settled over him. Today, he would step into the role he had been preparing for since the day Viserys called for him.

A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. The guards stepped aside to allow Princess Rhaenys to enter the room.

"Princess Rhaenys!"

With graceful steps, Rhaenys made her way towards him. Aegon's eyes sparkled with joy as he pulled her into a tight hug, showing his affection for his cousin.

"Aegon," she greeted him warmly, her eyes reflecting both pride and determination. "Are you ready for today?"

Aegon nodded, turning to face her fully. "As ready as I'll ever be.

Rhaenys smiled warmly, a mix of reminiscence and admiration in her gaze. "It is truly astounding to think that you have been here for such a short time, and yet you are already set to become the future king of the Seven Kingdoms."

Aegon reached out, grasping her hand softly. "I must admit, I had not foreseen this day arriving for me," he murmured. Rhaenys offered a nod in response. "Know that I shall stand by your side, along with my family."

With a final nod of mutual understanding, Rhaenys left the room, leaving Aegon to gather his thoughts one last time before the ceremony. He took a deep breath, steadying himself for what was to come. The throne room awaited, filled with lords and ladies who would swear their allegiance to him as the new heir.

When he entered the grand hall, the atmosphere was electric with anticipation. Every noble house had sent representatives, and the room was filled with the colors and sigils of the great houses of Westeros.

At the far end of the room stood Viserys, a regal figure seated on the Iron Throne, his presence commanding the attention of all.

Aegon walked confidently down the aisle, the eyes of the gathered nobility following his every step. He could feel the weight of their expectations and the importance of the moment. As he approached the throne, he bowed deeply to his brother, acknowledging the significance of the day.

Viserys rose from the throne, his voice strong and clear as he addressed the assembly. "Lords and ladies of Westeros, today we gather to affirm the future of our realm. In recognition of his strength, wisdom, and dedication to our house, I hereby name Prince Aegon as the official heir to the Iron Throne."

A murmur of approval but also disapproval rippled through the crowd as Viserys continued, "Furthermore, I name my niece Vaerla as Princess, to be honored and recognized as a true member of our family."

Vaerla stepped forward, her young face glowing with pride and determination. The gathered nobles watched as she took her place beside Aegon, the weight of her new title evident in her poised demeanor.

One by one, the lords and ladies approached, kneeling before Aegon and swearing their allegiance. Among them were prominent figures such as Lord Corlys Velaryon, whose presence signified the strong alliance between their houses, and Lord Lyonel Strong, whose support was crucial.

As each lord pledged their loyalty, Aegon felt a deep sense of responsibility and honor. He met their gazes with unwavering resolve, silently promising to uphold the values and traditions of House Targaryen.