✦ New Faith ✦ Aegon Targaryen

○ fifty five ○

◇

I hadn’t slept in two days. My body ached with exhaustion, but my mind wouldn’t still. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Vearys’ face—his lilac eyes, his tiny hands—and the cold horror of his absence filled me anew. I sat at the head of the Small Council table, leaning forward with wild determination, my voice sharper than steel.

"I’ve already sent the letters. Jacaerys Velaryon is to be imprisoned—our men will ensure it," I said, my hands gripping the edge of the table as though it were the only thing tethering me to reality.

Otto Hightower frowned, his expression measured. "Princess Rhaenyra will not believe it. Her son was sent to the North; there’s no reason he would be captured by Prince Aemond and brought here. It’s too far-fetched."

"She will believe it," I snapped, my voice rising. "She’ll believe it because she’ll want to. Do you think she’ll risk the chance of her son being harmed? She’ll come for him. She has to. And when she does—"

I stopped, swallowing the lump in my throat. My grief simmered beneath the surface, threatening to boil over. "When she does, we’ll end this. Once and for all."

I glanced at Aegon, seated at the far end of the table, his hand wrapped around a goblet of wine. His face was shadowed, his gaze distant, but there was a hardness in his eyes that hadn’t been there before.

He finally spoke, his voice low and rough. "And when she arrives, what then? She won’t come alone. She’ll bring soldiers. Maybe dragons."

"We’ll deal with them," I said, my tone fierce. "We’ll be ready. She’s a mother before she’s a queen. That’s her weakness. She’ll do anything for those children, just as I would have for Vearys. She’ll walk into our trap because she has no choice."

Aegon gave a bitter laugh. "You speak as if this will be clean. It won’t be. Nothing ever is." He leaned back, taking another long sip from his cup.

My hands trembled, but I clenched them into fists. "I don’t care how messy it gets. She will pay for what she’s done."

The council murmured among themselves, hesitant yet resigned. They saw the cracks in me, the fractures in my composure, but they didn’t challenge me. They knew better.

The doors opened, and a guard stepped inside, holding a sealed letter. "A message from Dragonstone, Your Graces," he announced, bowing as he handed it over.

I snatched it from his hands, my fingers trembling as I passed it to Aegon. He broke the seal and began to read aloud:

"To Prince Aegon II and Lady Tanda Sunglass,

I demand the return of my son, Prince Jacaerys Velaryon. If you value your kingdom and your lives, you will release him unharmed. I will come to King’s Landing to ensure his safety myself.

As a mother, I will do whatever it takes to protect my children. Let that guide your next move.

Rhaenyra Targaryen, Queen of the Iron throne."

The silence that followed was deafening. I felt the weight of her words like a blade against my chest.

"She’s coming," I said quietly, a bitter smile curling my lips. "She’s coming for nothing. No son. No throne. Only the consequences of her actions."

Aegon’s gaze met mine, and for the first time in days, I felt something close to clarity. We were united in our grief, in our fury, in our need to make her answer for what she had done.

He reached for my hand across the table, and I took it, holding tightly. Together, we would ensure Rhaenyra’s reign of terror ended. Whatever the cost.