When Helaena woke, dawn had not yet broken.
She lay beside Aemond and felt her husband stir, his body taut as a drawn bow. She turned carefully and saw in the candlelight by the bed that Aemond's violet eye was open, staring at the ceiling, lost in thought.
"You did not sleep?" she asked softly.
"I could not sleep," Aemond's voice was a little hoarse. "Too many things to settle."
Helaena reached out and touched his face; his cheek was still cool beneath her fingers.
"After today... will things be well?"
"No," Aemond answered honestly. "After today, things truly begin."
He sat up.
Helaena helped him dress—first the white linen shirt, then the mail shirt. Finally, the black surcoat bearing the three-headed golden dragon on black that she had sewn with her own hands.
"I dreamed again," Helaena said.
Aemond paused, fastening his belt. "What dream?"
"There was a dragon and fire... a red dragon fell from the sky..." Helaena's voice was very soft. "The fire looked at me and said... one man becomes king, ten thousand become ash..."
Aemond turned, came to the bedside, knelt, took her hand gently, and looked at her. "Helaena, a dream is only a dream. Men make things happen. Nothing is fated."
Helaena hoped that was true.
When she had gone to the Great Sept with her mother Alicent yesterday to pray to the Seven, she had heard the noblewomen whispering. They said that no sooner was the king dead than Prince Aemond rushed to crown his brother Aegon—that Aemond held all military power and might usurp the throne from his brother in time. They said this war would make the Seven Kingdoms bleed.
A handmaiden knocked and entered with hot water and towels. Aemond finished washing and put on the sword Blackfyre.
He turned to Helaena one last time. "Stay with Mother Alicent today. Whatever happens, do not leave her."
"And you?"
"I will see that all goes well," Aemond said, cold light flashing in his violet eye. "Whoever dares cause trouble today, I will kill."
He turned and left.
When the door closed, Helaena heard the heavy footsteps outside—not only Aemond, but his honor guard, departing with measured, deliberate strides.
---
Aegon's leg pained him greatly.
The maester Aemond had sent had changed his medicine and dressed the wound, but a broken bone was a broken bone; it would heal slowly. Now he stood before the mirror with his crutch, looking at the man in the coronation robes within.
"Your Grace, it is time to go," a handmaiden reminded him softly.
Your Grace.
The words made Aegon's heart tremble.
From this day, he was Aegon the Second Targaryen, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms. But he felt no joy—only fear. He feared the Iron Throne. He feared the war. He feared Rhaenyra and Daemon. He feared his own brother Aemond, who always stood behind him, controlling everything. He feared the creeping sense of mortality...
The door opened.
Princess Helaena entered. She wore a long white velvet gown with sable at the collar, a golden crown set with sapphires upon her brow.
"Let me help you," Helaena said softly.
Aegon knew what she was thinking. She was to be queen. Though she had been married to him for political reasons, and there was no passionate love between them, Aegon had to admit she was a good wife. She always thought of him, always planned for him.
The handmaidens left. Helaena helped arrange Aegon's robes, her movements gentle, but Aegon still felt a twinge of pain and winced.
"Be patient," Helaena whispered. "After today, you will be king. The fate of all will be in your hands."
"In my hands?" Aegon smiled bitterly. "Or in Aemond's?"
Helaena's hands paused. "Aemond is your own brother. He will help you."
"Help? Or control?"
"You have the name. All will acknowledge you."
"The lords may acknowledge me, but the armies are in his hands, the governance of the realm is in his hands. And the court lords you see—they are Aemond's tamed dogs."
The couple looked at each other.
Helaena looked away first, gently coaxing, "In any case, sit the Iron Throne first. Only seated upon it can we speak of other things."
Aegon sighed helplessly.
There was a knock at the door. "Your Grace, the Praetorian Guard has formed up in the Red Keep. It is time to go." It was Criston Cole's voice.
Aegon looked in the mirror one last time.
The silver-haired man within was handsome, dressed in black royal robes, but leaning on a crutch—a crippled dragon.
"Let us go," he said.
---
The sun had risen, but the morning fog lingered.
At the foot of Visenya's Hill, a sea of people had gathered.
The smallfolk of King's Landing crowded along both sides of the road, craning their necks to see. Not only was there a new king's coronation today, but there was also reward: free loaves of bread, free broth, and each person could receive two bronze stars. The new king, Aegon, was giving free food—for many commoners, that was the most important thing.
"Clear the way! Clear the way!"
Royal soldiers roughly pushed back the crowd, clearing the road for the procession of Praetorian knights. Those who were slow to move were shoved to the ground, causing minor disturbances that were quickly suppressed.
Two carriages arrived from the Red Keep.
The first held Aegon, Helaena, and Alicent; the second held Helaena.
Aemond did not ride in a carriage. He had already gone ahead to the vestibule to prepare, to prevent any possible emergencies.
In the carriage, Aegon sat in silence.
Helaena was somewhat nervous and took Aegon's hand.
Across from them, Queen Alicent was dressed in black, a black veil covering her hair, her expression grim.
"Aegon?" Alicent asked softly. "Are you not happy?"
Aegon smiled bitterly. "Why not let Aemond be king? Perhaps I was never fit for it."
Hearing this, seeing her eldest son being foolish again, the Queen Mother suppressed her anger. "Do not speak such nonsense! At least have the dignity to greet this with a smile. And besides, your father was poisoned—you must avenge him."
"Enough," Aegon cut her off. "I do not know if Rhaenyra killed him."
"You fool!" The Queen Mother could not contain herself and slapped him lightly.
Helaena quickly checked Aegon's face; fortunately it had not left a mark. It would not do to have marks on the king's face at his coronation.
"You doubt your brother?" The Queen Mother's voice trembled. "You doubt Aemond?"
"No," Aegon lowered his head and took the Valyrian steel dagger from his robes. It had been his father Viserys's heirloom; now he held it in his hands, turning it over. "You all say I am a fool, but I see the ambition in Aemond's eyes. Unchecked ambition. What does he think of me? A stepping stone?"
"Aemond would never," Queen Alicent assured him. "Not while I live. You are your father Viserys's named heir."
"I am only what he... had no choice but to name..." Aegon looked out at the cheering crowd and sighed helplessly.
Queen Alicent fell silent.
Suddenly Aegon turned to the Queen Mother, hesitated, and asked abruptly, "Mother, did you ever love me?"
Alicent was stunned for a long moment. "You are such a fool..."
The carriage rolled on, and the cheers of the crowd outside grew ever louder.