✦ New Faith ✦ Aegon Targaryen

○ twenty nine ○

◇

I sat quietly in the high-backed chair beside Aegon, my plate barely touched, though I forced myself to nibble at the delicate foods set before me. My gaze moved uneasily around the table, trying to ignore the tension threading between each of us. I glanced at King Viserys—frail and sunken, like a ghost clinging to his last tether to life. He looked as though he could barely hold his fork, and his tired eyes betrayed how much he loved his family, even as they fractured around him.

Alicent’s voice pulled me from my thoughts, soft yet carrying an edge. She sat tall beside the king, her expression serene, though her eyes held a fierce sort of vigilance. I thought of the few moments we had shared since my arrival, when she’d spoken kindly to me, hands clasped in prayer. How could she sit here, pious and gentle, yet entertain the idea of setting her son on the throne? Hadn’t she and Princess Rhaenyra once been as close as sisters?

Why would she turn against her, just to place her drunken, careless son on the throne?

I lifted my cup to mask the trembling of my hand, my fingers cold against the goblet. The king’s pale, withered face hung in the back of my mind, and my thoughts strayed again to my father’s letter and its unspoken warnings. As I watched Aegon—the faint scent of wine clinging to him even now—I wondered if he was even aware of his mother’s plans.

A sudden silence fell over the table, broken only by the quiet clinking of silverware. Alicent’s gaze turned to me, her eyes softening.

“Tanda, dear, how do you find your new chambers?” she asked warmly.

I looked up, startled, scrambling to still the flutter in my chest. “They’re... very grand,” I replied, trying to keep my voice steady. “Far larger than my rooms back home. Beautiful, really.”

Aemond let out a low scoff, earning a sharp glare from Alicent. I caught the sneer playing on his lips, his good eye narrowed as though he found something amusing in my words. I shrank slightly under his gaze, wondering if he, too, was somehow in on this plan. Aegon paid him no mind, looking distractedly at his plate.

Alicent’s face softened back into a smile, though there was a gleam in her eyes. “Well, that’s lovely to hear,” she said. “You’ll need the space soon enough, perhaps even for a bassinet before long?”

I froze, feeling a flush creep up my neck. I could barely hold my place here, yet already talk of children—of heirs—was surfacing.

“Mother,” Aegon drawled, barely looking up. His tone carried a mocking note, but he grinned, a lazy, almost indulgent smirk playing on his lips. “Maybe give us a moment to breathe before talking of heirs, eh?”

Alicent’s mouth tightened, though she seemed used to Aegon’s deflection. “It’s your duty,” she said, her voice firm. Her eyes held me for a beat longer, a look that was both kind and piercing. “The Seven have chosen you both for a purpose.”

“Yes... of course,” I murmured, offering her a smile that felt thin and fragile. My hand slipped under the table, pressing against my stomach as if to ground myself. I felt so small, caught between these expectations, Alicent’s watchful gaze, and the heaviness of my father’s letter still echoing in my mind.

Aegon’s grin only widened as he slouched back in his chair, reaching for his cup. “Well, we’ll get to it in our own time, Mother. Can’t rush greatness,” he said, chuckling in that careless way of his. He gave me a wink, as if this were all some grand jest, and drained his wine.

Watching him, a chill crept into my bones. Could this man truly wear a crown one day? The thought was laughable, even terrifying. Aegon, with his love for drink, his indifference to duty, his lack of any ambition save to live a life of pleasure and ease—how could he possibly stand against all that was expected of a king?

I lowered my eyes, silently whispering to myself, Mother, Maiden, guide me, grant me strength.

Dinner continued, each moment feeling like a test, and as the courses went on, I felt Aegon’s occasional glances, his smirk, and the heavy silence that fell over the table each time the king’s frail voice murmured something under his breath. By the end of the meal, my thoughts swirled, my mind heavy with worry.

Once we were excused, I slipped from the table as gracefully as I could and made my way back to my chambers