𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒 ||Aegon Targaryen||

15. „Or best for Rhaenyra?"

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Rhaenyra left her room and headed for the council meeting. From an early age, she had participated in these gatherings because she was the heir to the throne, and it was her obligation. The heavy oak doors to the council chamber loomed ahead of her, a place she had come to know intimately over the years. She took a deep breath, steeling herself for the discussions to come.

Her thoughts wandered back to the past. When her mother died and left her a newborn brother, Rhaenyra feared that her father, King Viserys, would replace her as his heir. But fate intervened cruelly; a day later, her brother also passed away. Since then, her father had kept her as the heir to the throne, even though he now had sons—the very thing he had longed for the most.

Rhaenyra had always aspired to be queen, but the responsibilities that came with the title were daunting. She had been preparing herself since she was a child, studying the histories and the laws, learning the ways of court politics. She knew the road ahead would not be easy, but she was determined to walk it with her head held high.

As she walked into the meeting room, the lords and ladies assembled there turned their heads. The chamber was dimly lit by the flickering light of torches mounted on the walls, casting long shadows across the room. She nodded in greeting to the council members, her gaze lingering briefly on Alicent Hightower, her former friend turned stepmother, who sat across from her father. Rhaenyra approached King Viserys and kissed him on the cheek, a gesture of both affection and respect.

“Father,” Rhaenyra said, taking her seat next to him, across from Alicent. The tension between the two women was palpable, but Rhaenyra ignored it, focusing on the task at hand.

Viserys, looking every bit the king with his crown and regal attire, put the ball in position to begin the meeting. "Let's get started," he said, rising from his chair and moving to the large table where a detailed map of the realm was spread out.

"How do we fare with dragon food?" Viserys asked, his eyes scanning the map. His concern was evident; the dragons were vital to their power, but they were also a great burden.

"Well, the lords of other lineages provide for us, as well as the people of King's Landing," replied Otto Hightower, the King's Hand. His voice was calm, but there was an underlying tension. Otto's eyes flicked briefly to his daughter, Alicent, before focusing back on the king.

Rhaenyra observed this interaction with interest. She had never been close to Otto, knowing well that he had once tried to marry her to hеr brother, Aegon. She had always suspected that Otto harbored ambitions of his own and that he did not truly support her claim to the throne.

"Good," said Viserys, nodding his head in approval. He then turned his attention to the model of Dragonstone on the table. "What’s the situation with the dragons there? The dragon of my grandsire and my grandmother?"

The question hung in the air for a moment. Otto hesitated, choosing his words carefully. "The people on Dragonstone are too scared to approach any of them, Your Grace," he said finally.

Viserys turned sharply to look at him, his expression a mix of surprise and displeasure. "So we should let them die?" he hissed, his voice laced with anger.

"No, Your Highness," Otto replied quietly, bowing his head. "But they are wild creatures, and without proper care, they might turn against us."

Rhaenyra saw an opportunity to prove her worth. "Father," she interjected, and Viserys turned to her with a questioning look, a faint smile playing on his lips.

"I'm traveling to Dragonstone soon. I'll take care of them," Rhaenyra said firmly, meeting her father's gaze with determination.

Viserys regarded her thoughtfully before nodding. "Very well," he said. "I trust you will handle it."