𝑳𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑻𝒆𝒏𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏 - 𝑰𝒗𝒂𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑩𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒔𝒔

36

Rhaenyra and Daenaera descended the stairs and found Jacaerys studying Valyrian.

"At the end?" Jace asked, eyes fixed on the lesson.

"The mouth," Nyra answered, stroking her belly.

"The mouth! Come on, Jace, you knew that," the boy mumbled, leaning against the stone table.

"Perhaps that's enough for this morning," Nyra suggested.

"No! I want to keep going," Jace insisted, waving his hands eagerly. "Maester?" The maester began speaking in Valyrian for Jace to translate.

"Aegon... ordered that the trees should be... killed," Jace announced proudly.

"Felled. It is a related word," Daenaera smiled softly.

"I don't expect you to learn High Valyrian in a day, Jace," Rhaenyra said, standing next to the maester.

"A king should honour the traditions of his forebears," Jace protested. Daenaera chuckled.

"Well... unless you're planning to depose your own mother, you have plenty of time to study," a voice interrupted, drawing every head toward the door.

Daemon stood there, expression unreadable. Rhaenyra's concern deepened as she said quietly, "Leave us."

"Joffrey," Jace called to his younger brother, gathering him into a hug before leaving the room. Only Rhaenyra, Daemon, and Daenaera remained.

Daemon handed Rhaenyra a small piece of paper. Her eyes scanned it quickly.

"He means to call and question Luke's legitimacy—and by extension, Jace's, and by extension, my claim to the throne," Rhaenyra whispered, disbelief in her voice.

"Vaemond cares only about Driftmark," Daemon said grimly.

Daenaera scoffed. "I'd be surprised if he cared about anything else but himself."

"And the Velaryon line, not our politics," Daemon added. "Has he made common cause with Otto Hightower yet?"

Rhaenyra hummed uneasily. "That is what I fear. Rhaenys has flown to court—surely she cannot be planning to back him."

"No," Daemon said.

"Whatever disagreements we may have had, she isn't cruel," Daenaera interjected. Daemon nodded.

"Nor stupid enough to do that," Daemon finished.

"Disagreements?" Rhaenyra said sharply. "She believes we had her son killed so that we might marry." Daenaera raised an eyebrow.

⸻

Later, all had gathered in the throne room. Otto sat upon the throne in place of the ailing king.

Daenaera stood beside her sister's family, puzzled by the petition. She believed Lucerys should and would be heir to Driftmark, even as a bastard.

Vaemond stepped forward to speak.

"The history of our noble houses extends beyond the Seven Kingdoms to the days of old Valyria. For as long as House Targaryen ruled the skies, House Velaryon ruled the seas. When doom fell on Valyria, our houses became the last of their kind. Our forebears came to this new land, knowing that failure meant the end of their bloodlines and name. I have spent my entire life on Driftmark protecting my brother's seat. I am Lord Corlys's closest kin—his own blood. The true impeachable blood of House Velaryon runs through my veins."

He did not once glance toward the blacks.

Rhaenyra cut in sharply, narrowing her eyes.

"As it does in my children, the offspring of Laenor Velaryon. If you cared so much for your house's blood, Ser Vaemond, you would not be so bold as to supplant its rightful heir. No, you speak only for yourself and your ambition."