Aegon Targaryen (Son of Baelon) POV
The door shut behind him with a soft thud, and Aegon entered the King's solar. The room was large but not indulgently so, illuminated by the sunlight from the tall, narrow windows, along with a dozen candles.
At the heart of the chamber stood a heavy oak desk, filled with neatly stacked ledgers, parchments and fresh letters. A chair carved from dark wood sat behind it, and upon it, sat the ruler of the Seven Kingdoms, Jaehaerys I Targraryen.
His grandfather.
Aegon stopped in front of the desk, clasped his hands behind his back and waited. And waited, and waited as his grandfather continued writing on his parchments. Their contents apparently more important than family.
Minutes passed in silence broken only by the scratch of quill on parchment. And at last, without lifting his gaze, the king spoke. "Have you come to complain about your betrothal again?"
Aegon would have been incensed by the casual dismissal of his concerns if he hadn't long ago grown numb to his family's indifference. "If wishing to meet my future wife before our wedding day is considered 'complaining,'" he countered, "then perhaps Your Grace is not quite as wise as the realm believes."
The quill stopped.
Slowly, deliberately, Jaehaerys set it aside. He looked up at him then, truly looked. "The marriage has been decided. And you will do your duty to your house. As Daella did. As Viserra did."
'As you did? By marrying Alysanne even when your own mother and regent forbade it?' The retort burned in his throat, but he bit it back, knowing it would change nothing. One could always count on the sun to rise in the east, a rooster to crow at dawn, and King Jaehaerys to be a hypocrite.
"Will I?" He asked instead.
Silence fell, and his grandfather's eyes narrowed sharply. Jaehaerys slowly leaned back in his chair. "Excuse me?"
Aegon met the old man's gaze without flinching. Unlike his brothers, he neither feared, nor respected the King. "Has Your Grace ever wondered why I never claimed a dragon?"
The king raised an eyebrow. "Enlighten me."
"Because I never wished to bind myself to this house more than necessary." Aegon's tone remained level, almost conversational. "Without a dragon, I am… less tethered," he paused, "I could leave Westeros entirely. And while my grandmother might grieve, I suspect Your Grace would simply label me a disgrace and consider it a problem solved."
That seemed to have finally struck a chord and Jaehaerys straightened in his seat, the calm slipping just enough to reveal the steel beneath. "Oh? You'll leave, will you? And go where? You think the world beyond Westeros is kind? That you can simply walk into it and survive?"
Aegon locked eyes with the King, his expression unreadable. "I imagine I shall have my answer soon enough."
A short, sharp scoff escaped the king. "So that is your master plan? To run?"
Aegon shrugged. "Seems better than remaining with this family. Especially with how you seem to treat us all like disposable pawns."
Something dangerous crept into Jaehaerys's expression. "Mind your words, boy."
"Or what? You will marry me off faster?" Aegon asked and then matched Jaeharys' earlier mocking expression with one of his own. "Like you did with Saera? Pray tell, how did that turn out for you?"
The air in the room turned brittle. Jaehaerys's jaw tightened, his knuckles white as his hands worked with suppressed fury. "Your father always claimed you were too clever for your own good," the King said softly. "I see now he was mistaken. You are nothing but a petulant, foolish child."
"And you are an old, heartless monster who loves his crown far more than his family," Aegon retorted, the words cutting through the tension. "Had you shown the realm's devotion to your own blood, perhaps half your family wouldn't despise you today. Including your own 'Good Queen.'"
"Enough. I have had enough of you." The King's voice was a low, dangerous growl. "I will not have my will questioned by a child who would sooner flee than fulfill his duty. Guards! Escort him out. Confine him to his chambers. He is not to step foot beyond his doors until the Royces arrive—and the gods have bound this marriage."
The Kingsguard moved instantly, and for a moment, Aegon considered fighting his way out of this. He had never really shown them his true strength, so perhaps he could take them by surprise. But even then, would it be enough?
He was unsure. And in the end, he did not want to kill these men for the crime of being loyal. Not to mention that actions based on impulse rarely led to a good result.
In the end, he simply nodded and let the Kingsguard lead him away. They walked him to the door, where he stopped and turned to look at the King one last time.
"If I marry Lady Rhea Royce, will my children have dragons?" Aegon asked. "And what will their name be? Targaryen… or Royce?"
Jaehaerys answered immediately. "When Rhaenys married Corlys Velaryon, you were the one who said too many dragon-riding families would be a threat to the realm. And you have never shown interest in dragons before. Keep it that way."
Aegon's fists clenched hard enough that they bled, but then he let out a laugh. As if he would ever live his life according to the desires of other. Though, this action of denying dragons to him and his children only cemented his thoughts regarding his own family.
He stepped out of the chamber and did not look back.