The Vengeful Ghost

77. Ñuha jorrāelagon

with deep emotions, I am confirming this is the final chapter before the epilogue. 

Aemond squeezed her hand. "Do we need to go over it again?" 

Visenya shook her head. "No," She whispered, sucking in a deep breath as she looked around at all the lords in the banquet hall.

"The Lords shall be arriving for the one-year banquet where we are supposed to be having better success than our last one."

"Considering the last banquet was after Rhaenyra's exile, I would say we have improved significantly, Uncle," Aemond rolled his eye, scoffing at Gwayne. "Do you ever look at the positives?"

"Lord Hightower, no one can move mountains in a year," Cregan responded. 

Visenya rubbed her temples, closing her eyes. "Gwayne, I have moved you from role to role, trying to make your place on this council seamless all because you are my husband's kin. I am running out of patience. This has been a mercy, Gwayne. You were the son of a second son. Your cousin is Lord of Oldtown, what else could you be doing now? What would you have me do, Gwayne?"

"Making alliances! You have two unbetrothed daughters, multiple nieces, and nephews, and not one betrothal has been made to solidify our relationship with any of the houses of Westeros. You have let emotions keep you from making arrangements that might prevent uprisings. All because you are scared of losing another -"

Aemond slammed his fist on the table and stood. "You best watch your tongue, Uncle."

Visenya held her hand up to halt the heated argument. It pained her to admit how much of a point Gwayne was making. Strong alliances between houses could always be traced back to betrothals. But the idea of sending her children somewhere else just to be married, especially if she were to send one of her daughters north. 

"When all of our children grow, they will know they must court. Each child will go on a tour to meet young lords and ladies and their children."

"Vharra is only two, and she is your eldest. That would be over a decade before any marriage could take place. That is a long time for a rebellion to form. No one wants another war, Your Grace."

"No one wants you to just ship off your children," Rhaenys said. "But some lords are still cross about having a woman on the throne."

Visenya kissed the back of Aemond's hand, giving him a small smile. "This is the role, no?"

He hesitated to nod. "This doesn't make you a bad mother, Visenya."

"Maybe," She mumbled and stood up, tapping her glass to get everyone's attention. 

"Silence for the Queen of Westeros!"

"Thank you," Visenya smiled. "I called you all here to celebrate the first year of my reign. My generosity has been known to extend to the smallfolk, I would like to extend it to my Lords and Ladies from time to time. So feast and dine, this is to celebrate the peace we have all prospered from this past year."

Applause broke out across the hall. 

"But we must also be honest with ourselves, a queen on the Iron Throne is new and unprecedented. Whether you admit it or not, I know some of you may disagree with that. I also know that some might still wish for the reign of my mother. The North was once considered the strongest and largest alley of Rhaenyra Targaryen, so as a sign of good faith and a strong relationship between the North and the Crown, I have agreed to betroth my daughter, Vharra Targaryen, to Rickon Stark, heir of Winterfell."