Climbing down from the dragon's back, he came face to face with Rhaenyra.
"Aemon, you are back?" she asked, surprised, and stepped forward quickly.
"Yes, your king has returned," Aemon smiled.
Rhaenyra looked suspicious. She did not know that her father had secretly sent Aemon several letters, coaxing him to return.
"Are you going out?" Aemon asked, getting closer and smelling the faint scent of dragon on her.
"No," Rhaenyra pushed him away with a look of disgust, her eyes sharp. "What is going on between you and Jeyne?"
Aemon hesitated for a fraction of a second.
"I advise you to think it over before you speak," Rhaenyra's eyes were calm, as if she could see through to his heart. She was not so easy to fool.
Aemon smiled awkwardly, a nervous sweat on his brow. How could he explain this? He was afraid he would be beaten if he told the truth.
Rhaenyra sighed deeply. "Forget it. I have already guessed." Aemon loves mature women; it is a secret known to half the Seven Kingdoms. She had to admit that Jeyne was pretty.
"Are you angry?" Aemon tilted his head.
"Yes," Rhaenyra nodded seriously.
Aemon was speechless. Just arrived in King's Landing, and she is already showing her power.
"Let us go. Do not just stand there," Rhaenyra said, her tone softening with helplessness. More than a month had passed since the incident; she had almost digested it herself. Aemon had inherited his uncle Daemon's romantic temperament. She had known that from the beginning.
Aemon was held by the hand and led towards the white wheelhouse parked nearby. For a moment, he felt a complex emotion. He thought of his childhood. The first time he and Rhaenyra had come to the Dragonpit, they had also held hands. At that time, Rhaenyra was taller than him and had led him. Time flies, and now he was more than a head taller than her, but it was still Rhaenyra who led him by the hand. Aemon lowered his eyes, rubbing his fingers that were hooked together with hers. Rhaenyra had changed. It seemed she was not so simple anymore; she had a little more maternal tolerance.
"Did you know that Syrax is about to lay eggs?" Rhaenyra asked, turning back as she climbed the steps of the carriage to share her joy.
"Can you give me one?" Aemon asked without hesitation.
Rhaenyra's face turned from sunny to cloudy. "No!"
Aemon smiled embarrassedly. "Prince, Princess, let us go," Ser Steffon said from the driver's seat. Not long after, the gate of the Red Keep was in sight.
As Rhaenyra stood up to get out of the carriage, her slender white hand was grabbed. She looked back in confusion. Aemon held her small hand with both of his, rubbed it on his cheek, and said seriously, "I brought you a small gift."
Rhaenyra was startled, and her eyes rippled slightly. After hesitating for a moment, she couldn't help but say, "I just finished digging out dragon manure."
Aemon was petrified on the spot.
"Syrax is going to lay eggs. I have to check the dragon manure in her nesting area," Rhaenyra said innocently.
"Rhaenyra, you will lose me like this," Aemon said, full of resentment.
"Oh," Rhaenyra replied, her face expressionless. The episode passed quickly. Entering the Red Keep, the two went their separate ways.
The Queen's Chambers.
Alicent walked slowly, with little Daeron, less than a year old, in her arms.
"I heard the dragon roar," Viserys said, his expression complicated. He sat on a couch, a half-cup of red wine before him.
"It is good that Aemon is back," Alicent's eyes sparkled with a hint of joy.
"That boy is a thorn," Viserys said with a headache. He loved and hated this nephew. He was obviously smart and brave, with Lamentation and Lady Forlorn in his hands, and riding the Bronze Fury, Vermithor. But he was too unruly. He could even make himself a king and occupy the Eyrie, one of the great seats of the Seven Kingdoms. Daemon had never dared to do that.
"Viserys, accept reality," Alicent persuaded.
"What else can I do? Do you think I would have written to him if I had another choice?" Viserys was annoyed.
Alicent gently put down the half-asleep child and sat in a chair opposite her husband. "Do you think it is better to call Aemon back, or leave him in the Vale?"
Viserys fell silent. He understood the greater principles. The kingdom needed a pillar. But he was very upset, as if he had energy but nowhere to use it.
Knock, knock! Ser Harrold spoke from the door. "Your Majesty, Aemon Targaryen wishes to see you."
Viserys hesitated, the words stuck in his mouth.
"Come in," Alicent said softly.
The door opened, and a familiar figure stood before them. "Uncle," Aemon greeted.
"Yes," Viserys nodded reluctantly. Beside him, Alicent looked nervous, secretly scratching her nails. She really wanted to ask about her father, Otto, but could not interfere.
Viserys saw her anxiety. "What about Otto?" he asked. "How have you treated him?"
"He is fine," Aemon glanced up, not daring to look Alicent in the eye.
At that moment, in the cold dungeon of the Gates of the Moon, a figure sat hunched on a pile of moldy straw. Otto looked up at the only palm-sized window in the cell. The sunlight revealed his unkempt appearance, his hair disheveled, his beard untidy. He looked listless, a stark contrast to his high spirits more than a month ago. Clang! "It's time for dinner!" the jailer knocked on the bars, scooping a spoonful of potato and wild vegetable soup into a broken bowl. At first glance, it looked like kitchen swill.
Back in the Red Keep, Aemon patted his chest and assured them, "Otto will not suffer." He will suffer endlessly for offending the King of the Vale.
Alicent was still very worried. "Aemon, you should let my father go," she said.
"I will," Aemon replied.
"Asshole! Otto is a minister of the crown!" Viserys got angry. "You kidnapped Otto. Are you dissatisfied with me?"
"I would not dare," Aemon curled his lips.
"Of course you are!" Viserys was furious.
"Uncle," Aemon sighed, "the people of the Vale forced me to become king. If you insisted on summoning me, that is fine, but sending Otto to provoke me was wrong." At that critical moment, how could he risk returning to King's Landing? Who would be responsible if he was detained? On the contrary, with Otto in his hands, he had an additional bargaining chip.
"I do not want to hear your quibbles. You have one month to send Otto back intact," Viserys said, tough for once. "You must also be present at the council meeting later." With that, he left angrily. Aemon quickly made way for him.
"Humph!" Viserys did not give him a kind look from beginning to end.
Aemon blinked. He felt warm in his heart. Uncle still loves me.
At one o'clock in the afternoon, the Small Council was held. Viserys sat in a corner by the window, rubbing the jade ring on his hand. On the left were three chairs: the Hand of the King, Lyonel Strong, sat in the first, with Rhaenyra's seat behind him. On the right were three more chairs: the first was empty, and behind it were Grand Maester Mellos and the Master of Coin, Lord Lyman Beesbury.
"Aemon has returned to King's Landing. I suggest he be placed under house arrest," Lyonel said cautiously.
"Ser Otto is still in his hands. I am afraid he is here for negotiations," Mellos shook his head slowly.
Knock, knock! Aemon appeared at the door.
"Come in," Viserys said, glancing at his impatient Hand and choosing a gentler approach. Lyonel had no choice but to stare at Aemon vigilantly.
"The people of the Vale call me the King of the Vale, but I am still loyal to the Iron Throne," Aemon said, taking the lead in expressing his position.
Seeing that his nephew was not making trouble, Viserys's face improved slightly. "Alright, stop the nonsense," he said, having made a decision. "The Arryn line will be incorporated. In the future, the title of Warden of the East will be entrusted to Aemon and his descendants. His title will be raised from 'Prince of Runestone' to 'Prince of the Vale,' ruling the Vale for the Iron Throne."
"Your Majesty!" Lyonel was stunned. Is this not deceiving oneself? Outsiders speak of the King of the Vale, making the Vale independent. In the king's mouth, it is changed to Prince.
"I believe him!" Viserys interrupted, his expression complicated. "We can grant the Vale some autonomy, just as if Dorne were being brought into the Seven Kingdoms ahead of schedule."
Aemon's eyes flickered. The implication was that he would continue to be the King of the Vale. The external title of Prince of the Vale was the same as the Prince of Dorne—nominally a prince, but inwardly an independent ruler.
"What do you think?" Viserys asked his silent nephew.
"I have no objection," Aemon said. It was just a title. He was called King to win over the people of the Vale. He would keep some dignity for the royal family outside his own domain.
"Sit down," Viserys's expression eased a lot. He had been afraid his nephew would harp on the issue of address. Aemon sat in the empty seat on the left, just below Rhaenyra. The king had spoken; no one dared to mention the Vale again. The topic turned to the Sea Snake.
"Your Majesty, the marriage between the Sea Snake and House Baratheon has greatly strengthened their family's power," Ser Tyland reported.
Viserys's brows were twisted into a knot.
"Your Majesty, the Sea Snake can marry. We should also respond in kind," Lyonel suggested.
"Oh?" Viserys was confused. Lyonel remained silent and looked at the two Targaryens.
"Yes, it is a good suggestion," Viserys smiled, making the decision. "The day after tomorrow, Rhaenyra and Aemon will be formally betrothed, and the good news will spread throughout the Seven Kingdoms."
Rhaenyra turned her head and looked at her father, who gave her an affirming look. She was surprised and looked at Aemon.
Aemon held his chin with one hand and smiled. "I agree."
It was a naked political deal. The news of the engagement between the King of the Vale and the heir to the Iron Throne would reduce the negative impact of his recent actions. At the same time, it was a means to deter the Sea Snake and Lord Boremund. The royal family had one more top dragonrider.
Viserys knew his nephew was smart. "After you are engaged," he said bluntly, "you will meet the conditions for entering the Small Council. You will stay in King's Landing to share my worries." He was tying him down completely. But of course, he had to offer a benefit. In front of the ministers, he promised, "I will formally ennoble you as the Prince of the Vale, and you shall rule it legitimately."
Aemon accepted it calmly.
"You should prepare. Time is short," Viserys said, patting his daughter's shoulder as he stood to leave the hall. He had to prepare for the engagement banquet as soon as possible, to suppress this political storm.
Aemon sat still, looking at his uncle's back, his eyes flashing.
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