✦ New Faith ✦ Aegon Targaryen

○ fourty eight ○

☆

As I led my parents through the winding halls of the Red Keep, I could feel the tension radiating from them. They hadn’t stepped foot in King’s Landing in almost a year, and now they were here as the parents of the queen—something that still seemed to unsettle them deeply. We entered a drawing room with a large arched window that overlooked the city, the soft light falling on my mother’s pale face and my father’s lined, weathered features.

Aemond followed closely behind, his presence shadowing us like a hawk circling its prey. I turned to him, meeting his lone, steely gaze, and gave him a brief nod. “Thank you, Prince Aemond. I appreciate it, but I’d like to be with Lord and Lady Sunglass alone.”

He scoffed slightly, giving me a mocking bow. “It’s my duty to serve you, my queen,” he said, each word dripping with sarcasm before he turned and strode out of the room, the sound of his boots echoing off the stone.

When I turned back to my parents, I finally looked into their familiar faces and felt a surge of emotion. My father’s blue eyes mirrored mine, though his were now softened by age and framed by deep creases. My mother, with her rosy cheeks and soft blonde hair, reminded me achingly of my own reflection. Seeing them again was like looking into a strange mirror that reminded me of all I’d left behind—and all I carried forward with me.

As I settled into a seat across from them, my mind drifted to my child. I couldn’t help but wonder if they would have my mother’s kind face, or if Aegon’s Targaryen blood would make them almost unrecognizable to my family. The Targaryen features were notoriously dominant; our child could be born with silver hair and violet eyes, a stranger to my own Sunglass heritage. It saddened me, this thought that after all the pain and the waiting, my child might look so foreign.

I shook off the thought and looked at them with a soft smile. “I’ve missed you both,” I whispered, my voice breaking slightly.

My father’s stern expression melted, and he pulled me into a tight embrace. He didn’t speak, but I could feel everything he wanted to say in the way his arms wrapped around me, protective and unwavering. When he finally released me, my mother took my hand in her cold, trembling fingers.

“We would have come sooner,” she began, her voice brittle. “But with Rhaenyra’s forces, and the unrest—”

I shook my head, squeezing her hand gently. “Just for one day, I want a moment away from all of it. No war, no talk of battles or deaths. Just… peace.” My voice was soft, and I felt the tears prickling at my eyes.

She nodded, understanding. We sat together in silence for a long while, the comfort of familiar faces and shared history filling the room. At last, my father cleared his throat, speaking in that awkward, strained way he had whenever he talked of things he didn’t fully understand. “How… how many months?”

“Nine,” I said, rubbing my belly thoughtfully. “The maesters say it could be any day now.”

The room went quiet as both of them fell into their own memories. I knew they were recalling the many pregnancies they’d endured, the years of hope and heartbreak they’d faced in trying to have more children. They’d lost so many, and even after all this time, the sorrow lingered like an invisible wound.

After a moment, my mother cleared her throat. “Have you… thought of names?”

I hesitated. “Alicent and Aegon have both given suggestions. Alicent thinks it would be… traditional to name a son Aegon if he’s the heir.”

My parents exchanged a look, their expressions clouded with confusion. “It’s a Targaryen custom,” I explained. “Apparently, they name the eldest son, or the heir, Aegon. I suppose… it’s meant to carry the legacy.”

They nodded, but I could see the custom was as strange to them as it felt to me.

I laughed softly, trying to ease the tension. “Their traditions can be… unusual, as I’m sure you’ll discover. But I’d like something that feels like… us, too. Like family.”

My father’s face softened, and he cleared his throat. “My mother—your grandmother—was named Maia. She was a good woman, strong and kind.”

Hearing him mention her name felt like a gift, a small piece of home. “Maia…” I said, savoring the name. “I’ll remember that. For now, though, let’s get you to your chambers.”

I led them through the halls to a set of chambers I’d asked to be prepared especially for them. The rooms were some of the finest in the Red Keep, with rich tapestries and plush furnishings fit for guests of honor. I could see the awe in their eyes, and it filled me with pride and a twinge of sadness, knowing they’d never felt welcome in this world until now.

As we paused in the center of the room, I gave them a soft smile. “Let’s pray together after supper. But first, I have to make amends with Dowager Queen Alicent… and with my husband the King.”