The Red Keep, Night.
At night, in the corridors of the Red Keep, Aemond walked at the front, with Aegon and Daeron following behind him.
Attendants followed behind the Princes, carefully carrying two unhatched dragon eggs.
The torchlight reflected off the eggshells, casting a strange shimmer.
One grey, one white, they lay quietly on black velvet cushions.
These two dragon eggs came from Dreamfyre in the Dragonpit, Princess Helaena's gentle she-dragon.
Aemond had retrieved them personally; according to Targaryen tradition, he intended to gift them to his newborn brother, Baelon, and sister, Dorea.
Aemond was clad in black and red armor, carrying the distinct scent of sulfur from the Dragonpit.
Guards lined every section of the corridor, and sentries stood at every corner.
Everyone's face was tense; with the King in a coma, the Hand dismissed, and the Queen keeping vigil at the bedside, there was currently no one in charge of the Red Keep.
Aemond beckoned to the side.
A guard stepped forward quickly and bowed.
"Your Highness."
Aemond didn't stop or look back. "Have Commander Luthor Largent meet me in the Hand's chambers."
"As you command."
The order was given decisively, without the slightest hesitation.
------
The Tower of the Hand.
An awkward atmosphere filled the Hand's chambers.
Otto Hightower was packing the documents on the desk.
His movements were slow, carefully rolling each scroll before placing it into an open wooden chest.
His son, Gwayne Hightower, was assisting him.
The door was pushed open.
Aemond walked in, followed by Aegon and Daeron.
Otto looked up, his hands stopping their work.
"Today's performance," Aemond said, looking at Otto, "was truly unsightly."
He walked to the desk and glanced at the documents being organized, financial accounts, and intelligence on various Houses.
Otto set the document down and sighed.
"I didn't expect... His Grace to hold on to that extent, let alone that he would wake up."
Aemond smiled, a cold expression that didn't reach his eyes.
"You shouldn't have done this behind my back in the first place. And then at the critical moment, you backed down after just a few words from His Grace?"
Otto remained silent.
Aemond seemed to laugh in anger.
"You just let the Blacks walk out of the Red Keep so easily?"
Otto was silent for a long time. The only sound in the room was the soft crackling of the fire in the hearth.
"So," Otto finally spoke, "what do you plan to do now?"
Aemond straightened up, pressed his hands on the edge of the table, and leaned toward him.
"Daeron will return to Oldtown with you."
"And as for you, Grandfather..."
He stared into Otto's eyes.
"I want you to notify Lord Ormund Hightower to start preparing now, immediately."
"Not just the usual guards, but to summon the vassals and begin forming a real army, as many men as possible."
Otto's pupils contracted slightly.
"Aemond, do you know what you're saying? Raising an army without the King's permission... Now? You want to start preparing for war?"
"His Grace is currently in a coma," Aemond interrupted.
"We must be prepared at all times."
"Besides, if you start preparing now and set your mind to it... Twenty thousand? Thirty thousand? With the strength of the Hightowers, that should be achievable, shouldn't it?"
Otto's expression changed.
Aemond continued.
"Go tell the High Tower that whether my brother Aegon can sit on the Iron Throne depends on whether House Hightower has that resolve."
Beside them, Prince Aegon blankly pointed at himself.
"Me?"
Aemond didn't look at him, keeping his eyes fixed on Otto.
Otto was silent for a moment, then finally nodded.
"I will... make the suggestion to the Lord."
"It's not a suggestion," Aemond said, looking indifferently at Otto.
"It's a necessity. If a reason is needed, say it is my wish. If that isn't enough..."
He walked over to Aegon and placed a hand on his brother's shoulder; Aegon visibly shuddered.
"Say that it is the will of the future King."
Having said this much, there was no room for maneuver.
Otto looked at the unyielding Aemond and slowly nodded.
"I understand."
Just then, there was a knock at the door.
"Enter."
The door opened, and Ser Luthor Largent, the Commander of the City Watch, walked in.
The man with a face full of rough features looked nervous.
"Your Highness," he bowed, "you sent for me."
Aemond turned around and studied him for a few seconds.
"Commander Largent," he said in a mild tone, "you have worked hard serving the Royal Family all these years."
Largent was taken aback, then straightened his posture.
"It is my honor to serve His Grace."
"It is an honor indeed," Aemond nodded.
"That is why the Royal Family will not mistreat a loyal servant."
"I will arrange for a reward of a thousand Gold Dragons for you. As a knight, you can then acquire a fine manor in the Crownlands and add some farmland. You aren't young anymore; it's time you retired in peace."
The air in the room suddenly froze.
Luthor's face turned pale, realizing he was being dismissed. He said with difficulty, "Your Highness... I am loyal to His Grace! I follow the King's orders! Today in the Throne Room, I only..."
"You only hesitated," Aemond interrupted him ruthlessly.
Aemond stepped forward and stopped in front of the Commander; the two were very close.
"I will propose your retirement to His Grace. Now, leave."
Largent opened his mouth, wanting to say something more.
But when he met Aemond's purple eyes, cold and deep, it was as if there was no room left for argument.
All of his words were stuck in his throat.
Finally, he lowered his head, his shoulders slumping.
"As you command, Your Highness."
He turned and left, his back appearing somewhat hunched.
After the door closed, Otto sighed.
"It's not entirely his fault; it was I..."
Aemond said coldly, "Loyalty that is not absolute is absolute disloyalty."
He then looked at Gwayne Hightower.
"Uncle, how would you like to be the Commander of the City Watch?"
Gwayne Hightower's eyes widened, and he looked at his father.
Otto gave him a slight nod.
"I..." Gwayne swallowed.
"I am willing to serve the Royal Family."
"Very well," Aemond patted his uncle's shoulder.
"I will make the proposal to His Grace."
Aemond said no more and turned toward the door. At the threshold, he paused for a moment without looking back.
"Grandfather, the ship departs tomorrow morning. You must leave King's Landing as soon as possible."
With that, he pushed the door open and left. Prince Aegon and Prince Daeron glanced at each other and followed.
Only Otto and Gwayne, father and son, remained in the room.
Gwayne looked at his weary-looking father.
"Father..."
Otto didn't respond. He walked to the window, pushed it open to feel the cool night breeze, and whispered.
"Now... there is no one left who can restrain him."
Otto Hightower closed his eyes and spoke slowly with his back to Gwayne.
"Gwayne. From now on, you are to obey only Aemond's commands. Ignore everyone else, including me."
Listening to his father's instructions, Gwayne hesitated for a moment and then nodded.
He had already seen the situation clearly; even if Prince Aegon were to inherit the Iron Throne in the future, he would likely be rendered a figurehead by Aemond's overwhelming dominance.
-----
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