The next morning, the Red Keep was still cold and quiet. Dawn light touched the castle walls, but it did not chase away the gloom. Aegon woke early, lying in his bed and listening to the crows outside his window. He did not feel rested. Dreams had followed him all night—quick flashes of faces he almost remembered, voices from another world mixed with strange new ones. He sat up, rubbed his eyes, and tried to steady his thoughts.
He dressed himself slowly, every motion careful. The clothes felt slightly too big for his growing body. The boots pinched his toes, but he ignored it. He was not himself, but he had to look the part. He remembered that much from his old life: people trusted appearances.
When he entered the hallway, he almost bumped into a servant girl who was carrying a basin of water. She flinched, eyes wide with fear. Aegon paused and stepped aside. "Be careful," he said softly, trying not to sound harsh. The girl blinked, surprised, and hurried off. He watched her go, noting how even the servants now seemed afraid of the royal family.
Downstairs, breakfast was a quiet affair. King Viserys sat at the end of the table, his face drawn and pale, barely eating. Alicent was there too, but she said little, her eyes always on her children or the door. Helaena stared at her plate, playing with her food, and Aemond sat stiff and silent, jaw tight.
Aegon felt the heavy silence pressing in. He filled his cup with water and took a long drink just to fill the space with some small noise.
After a while, the King stood. "I will see the council soon. There is much to do for Lady Laena's memory." His voice was tired, cracked at the edges. Alicent rose quickly and followed him out. Helaena left as soon as she finished her bread, drifting back to her room.
Aegon and Aemond were left alone at the long table. For a minute, neither spoke.
Aemond finally broke the silence. "You're walking softer these days." His voice was low, almost accusing.
Aegon glanced at his brother. "Does that bother you?"
Aemond shrugged. "People are watching us. I just hope you're not planning to go soft." His blue eye narrowed. "The strong are respected in this house. The weak are forgotten."
Aegon considered the words. He remembered being a teenager in another world, surrounded by people who acted tough to survive—bullies and leaders, teachers and rivals. That part at least was the same. "I'm here," he said simply. "I'm listening. I'm not hiding."
Aemond accepted the answer with a small nod. He looked older than his years this morning. "Good. Because strange things happen after death in this family. People take sides. It's best to be ready."
Aegon looked at his younger brother, saw the pain and ambition behind his quiet words, and wondered how things would turn out for both of them.
They finished breakfast in silence.
--
Later that morning, the royal children were summoned to the training yard. Ser Criston Cole waited for them with a sword in hand and a harsh look on his face. "Your Highnesses," he said, bowing slightly. "It is important that you keep your skills sharp, even during days of grief."
Aegon gripped a wooden practice sword. It felt light in his hands, but he remembered some basics from old fencing classes back home. He watched as the boys paired up—Aemond with Helaena, though she mostly watched and moved away from his swings.
Criston called Aegon forward. "Aegon, with me."
They began. At first, Aegon moved slowly, letting the sword swing with the motion of his arm, not forcing any clever tricks. Criston pressed him—light taps at first, then harder. "Stay balanced. Don't look away from your target. Don't forget to breathe."
Aegon let the feedback come, nodding, trying not to show how strange it still felt—how awkward he was in someone else's body. He moved his feet, remembered to watch the center, and blocked a sharp tap from Criston's blade with a soft thud.
"Better," Criston said, but not warm. "The court expects much from you. Don't disappoint them."
A few other boys—young squires from noble families—watched from the fence, murmuring. Aegon caught their stares but did not let them rattle him. Being watched was uncomfortable, but not new.
After practice, Aegon stayed behind for a moment, flipping the sword in his hand, watching the morning sun catch the wood.
Ser Criston stepped closer. "Your mother worries about you."
Aegon looked up, not smiling. "She worries about us all."
Criston leaned in. "You're the heir. The realm notices every choice you make—every word you say, every friend you trust. These are lessons your father tried to teach you. Don't let grief distract you."
Aegon nodded, saying nothing. He knew better than to argue.
He left the yard, sweat cooling on his skin, thinking about what it meant to walk these halls as someone important. When he reached the corridor, he caught up with Aemond, who was leaning against the wall.
"You looked better with the sword today," Aemond remarked.
Aegon shrugged. "Practice helps."
Aemond grinned, just a little. "Maybe next you'll beat Criston."
"Maybe," Aegon agreed, enjoying—for a rare second—the normalcy of sibling teasing.
--
The afternoon brought the council meeting. Alicent came to fetch Aegon herself. "You must listen carefully," she whispered at the door. "Speak with respect. Remember your place."
He walked by her side through cold stone halls into the council chamber. The lords were waiting—Larys Strong with his careful smile, Lord Beesbury rearranging papers, and several others discussing quietly.
King Viserys entered, followed by the Maester, who looked tired and worried. The King's voice was heavy: "We will discuss the funeral arrangements. And then, Driftmark and Princess Rhaenyra."
Aegon listened. There was talk of sending official messages to Driftmark and to Daemon. The Maester read the words slowly, each sentence thick with ceremony. Viserys sighed, looked out the window, then pressed on.
"Rhaenyra will be returning," said Alicent. Her words were sharp. "With her children. They must be welcomed, but carefully. The families are wounded, but we are one house."
Lord Beesbury spoke up. "There will be whispers about succession. Lady Laena's death has moved the line again. Some say Princess Rhaenyra's marriage is… unconventional."
Viserys shut him down quickly. "The princess will always be my heir. There will be no doubt spoken in this chamber."
Aegon kept his expression calm. He glanced at Larys, who flashed a thin smile, watching everything.
Viserys ended the meeting by asking his sons to stay a moment longer. When the others left, Aegon and Aemond stood together, facing their father.
"I know you quarrel with your cousins," the King said, weary but firm. "It must end. You must show unity. We cannot let sadness turn to hate."
Aegon nodded. "We understand, Father."
Aemond added, "We will do as you wish."
Viserys looked at them both, pain in his eyes. "I have seen too many funerals. Too much anger. Promise me you will behave with respect during the days ahead."
"We promise," the brothers said together.
Afterwards, Aegon felt the council's eyes on him all day. Every servant, every guard seemed to watch his every move. The castle was full of low voices, nervous glances, and clattering goblets. He knew already that there was no such thing as privacy here.
Late in the afternoon, Helaena found Aegon alone in the library. She said nothing at first, just ran her fingers over the spines of the old books, whispering quiet words to herself. Finally, she said, "Are you sad, Aegon?"
He hesitated, choosing words carefully. "We lost someone important to our family."
Helaena nodded, eyes far away. "The dragons are quiet. Even they know when to be silent." She looked up, finally meeting his gaze. "But not everyone understands sadness. Some only feel fear."
Aegon wasn't sure how to answer. He looked at his strange, quiet sister and realized that, for all his old-world logic, there were still some things here he could not explain.
After dinner, the family gathered one last time for the day. Everyone was tired, shadows under their eyes. Viserys announced, "Tomorrow, we ride out to visit the Sept. We will pray for Lady Laena. I expect you all to be on your best behavior."
Aegon nodded with the others, part of the royal show.
That night, as the castle quieted, Aegon sat at his table and began to write. He listed what he'd seen—who spoke to whom, what people seemed afraid of, what parts of the castle felt most tense. He wrote small reminders to himself, careful not to sound odd if anyone found the paper: "Talk to Criston about training," "Keep close to Aemond during ceremonies," "Watch how Alicent speaks to the lords."
He folded the note and slid it deep under his mattress, just in case. He looked out at the city lights far below, wondering for a moment what his old life would have looked like if this had never happened. But then, as the bells rang the hour, he set his mind to the coming day. For now, this was all he could do: watch, listen, and be ready to act, one step at a time.