TO LOVE A KING || Maegor II Targaryen [SLOW UPDATES]

094▪️ OF FRUITS AND ASHEN WOMBS

3 YEAR LATER

King's Landing, the beating heart of the Seven Kingdoms, had grown into a city of contrasts. From the stinking fishmongers' stalls at the Mud Gate to the perfumed manors of the Street of Silk, every alley hummed with life. Gold Cloaks patrolled the cobbled lanes, half keeping order, half extorting coin.

Beggars with missing limbs rattled their bowls, while merchants from Braavos and Pentos shouted out their wares. And always, looming high above the city like a red stone crown, was the Red Keep, its walls watching, its towers burning bright in the dawn light, a constant reminder of Targaryen might.

Within those walls, the world was quieter, but no less dangerous. Ambition whispered in the halls, envy walked beside courtiers, and secrets pressed against every chamber door.

When Jasmine had first been brought to court, the whispers had been merciless. The smallfolk called her a curse, a shadow on the King's reign, a "Dayne-bastard cloaked in dragon silk."

Yet Maegor had silenced them in his way, ten smallfolk butchered, five urchins strung up, two lords disemboweled, and two brothel gossips flayed for speaking her name. The realm had fallen silent, but silence born of fear only deepened the unease.

Even now, Queen Alicent Hightower endured the girl with thinly veiled disdain. Maegor had demanded she act the part of stepmother, and she had agreed with all the warmth of winter steel.

Selena, however, remained only a shadow at court. Maegor had not summoned her to his bed in years, not since Alicent bore him twins. Still, he had never spoken of succession.

The uncertainty gnawed at Alicent, for the realm expected Aegon or Maekar to be named heirs. Yet Maegor's silence was a weapon of its own, one that kept both women bound by hope and fear.

It was here, in the East Wing of Maegor's Holdfast, that Charlotte climbed the winding stair to the first floor. The cries of babes carried down the hallway, thin and piercing, needling into her skull.

She clenched her jaw. After three years as Ser Euron Greyjoy's second wife, she had grown sick of such sounds, reminders of a role she refused to play. She had taken her moon teas faithfully, sparing herself the curse of bearing children for a pirate who bruised her arms as easily as he poured wine.

And yet... there was another bitterness fouler still. Euron, for all his cruelty, was no longer heir to anything. Dalton Greyjoy, the elder brother thought long dead, had returned to the Iron Islands, casting Euron back into the shadows. Charlotte, once promised power through marriage, was left with nothing but scars and whispers of failure.

Still, revenge was sweeter than despair. Her gaze often turned toward King Maegor, no lover of hers, but a man whose enemies mirrored her own. The thought of his strength, his iron hand crushing those who mocked Alicent or Selena, filled her with secret dis-satisfaction.