TO LOVE A KING || Maegor II Targaryen [SLOW UPDATES]

084▪️ A CHOSEN SISTER & A BROKEN BRIDE

"I intend to marry..." Maegor began, and the room fell silent.

The words fell like stone into still water.

Orys shifted with interest, leaning forward slightly, already speculating.

Lord Corlys lifted his head with quiet hope, the image of his daughter Laena rising in his mind like a golden prize.

Rhaenyra smiled faintly, certain she was about to witness a political alliance that could shape the realm.

Otto Hightower sat tall, his hands clasped tightly on the table. His heart swelled with expectation-this was the moment he'd waited for.

Beside the wall, Alicent stood perfectly still as a statue, eyes glued to the floor, her hands, fingers still picking at her cuticles until they bled. She lasped tightly in front of her, fingers trembling beneath her sleeves. The tension in the room was a noose around her neck, tightening with every breath the King took.

Charlotte, standing proudly beside their father, felt her heart flutter. Her cheeks flushed as her mind raced through the moments she had spent alone with the King-her flirtations, her glances, the unspoken promises. This is it.

At the head of the chamber, King Maegor stood tall and still. The velvet box in his hand was closed, yet it held the lives of two sisters between its hinges.

Alicent's heart, once pounding with nervous expectation, now hung heavy-resigned to what was coming. If Maegor chose Charlotte, as everyone expected, then her fate was sealed. She would be married off to Euron Greyjoy, bound to a man she neither loved nor trusted. Her future would vanish into the sea, swallowed by cold winds and iron shores.

The weight of that truth pressed against her chest like armor she couldn't remove. Her throat ached. Her eyes burned. Still, she kept her face neutral, her posture steady-poised even in ruin.

Alicent didn't raise her head. She didn't need to. The pause told her everything. Of course, it would be Charlotte-beautiful, bold, and sharp-tongued Charlotte. The daughter their father paraded like a prize. The one who laughed too loudly and lied too easily.

He's choosing her, she thought bitterly. He's going to crown her and chain me.

Maegor's gaze swept across the table. The lords leaned in, breaths caught in their throats. Beside him, Rhaenyra gave a subtle nod-assured, confident.

He exhaled sharply.

Then, he turned away from his niece and looked-directly-at the Hightower sisters.

And the air shifted.

Maegor scanned the table slowly. Lords leaned in, the silence almost reverent. His eyes lingered briefly on Rhaenyra, who offered a subtle nod of approval.

"I intend to marry..." he began again, his voice colder now. "the Lady Alicent Hightower. Before spring's end."

Gasps broke the silence like shattered glass.