Thicker than Blood

Chapter 3

We stand in the throne room as Otto Hightower sits on my grandfather's throne about to hear claims for a title that is Lucerys' birthright. Jacaerys stands on our mother's right side and Luke and I stand on her left. I give my little brother a soft smile and squeeze his shoulder as I wait for what is inevitability going to be an shitshow to start.

People continue to file in and I look around the room impatiently as the anxiety starts to set in. My trepidation is not helped when my gaze fall upon Aemond. His eye is already fixated upon me, an emotion behind it that I cannot discern. He must feel no shame in being caught staring at me because when I turn away bashfully, with the excuse of fussing over my brother, I can feel his eye boring a hole in the back of my head.
Otto begins to speak.

"Though it is the great hope of this court that Lord Corlys Velaryon survive his wounds, we gather here with the grim task of dealing with the succession of Driftmark." Otto says, probably creaming his breeches in excitement of possibly disinheriting a son of Rhaenyra. "As Hand I speak with the King's voice on this and all other matters."

I highly fucking doubt that.

"The crown will now hear petitions. Ser Vaemond of house Velaryon."

Vaemond walks up, giving my mother the nastiest glare he can conjure up.

Cunt.

"My Queen. My Lord Hand. The history of our noble house extends beyond the Seven Kingdoms to the days of Old Valyria. For as long as House Targaryen has ruled the skies, House Velaryon has ruled the seas. When the Doom fell on Old Valyria, our houses became the last of their kind. Our forebearers came to this new land knowing that were they to fail, it would mean the end to their bloodlines and their name."

Gods this man is dull.

Daemon and mother make eye contact. It's as if they're having a wordless conversation. My mother nods to Daemon.

Interesting.

Vaemond goes on saying how he is Corlys' closest kin, his closest blood.

"The true, unimpeachable blood of House Velaryon runs through my veins."

"As it does in my sons, the offspring of Laenor Velaryon." My mother pipes in. "If you cared so much about your house's blood, Ser Vaemond, you would not be so bold as to supplant its rightful heir. No you only speak for yourself and for your own ambition."

"You'll have chance to make your own petition, Princess Rhaenyra. Do Ser Vaemond the courtesy of allowing his to be heard." Says the Queen, the spite in her voice apparent. This was obviously personal.

I wish I could wipe the smug smirk off Ser Vaemond's face. what joy it would bring me.
"What do you know of Velaryon blood, Princess? I could cut my veins and show it to you and you still wouldn't recognise it."

To myself, I can admit that Ser Vaemond speaks only truth. But life does not run on truth, he is either ignorant or stupid to believe that he has any right in challenging our family. The man thinks with his heart, not his head, speaking this way will have him end up dead.

Mother nods, unimpressed.

"This is about the future and survival of my house, not yours." Ser Vaemond turns to the Hand and the Queen.

"My Queen, my Lord Hand. This is a matter of blood, not ambition."

I notice Luke look over to Aemond. I feel our uncle's stare switch from me to my brother.

"I place the continuation of the survival of my
house and my line above all. I humbly put myself before you as my brother's successor... the Lord of Driftmark and the Lord of the Tides."

"Thank you Ser ." Otto says. "Princess Rhaenyra, you may speak now for your son, Lucerys Velaryon."

"If I am to grace this farce with some answer, I will stat by reminding the court that nearly 20 years ago, in this very--" My mother is cut off.
I try to hide my smile as I see my grandsire in the doorway.

"King Viserys of House Targaryen, the First of His Name, King of the Andals, and the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm." The Hightower cunt removes himself from my grandsire's seat.
Vaemond and Otto share a sneaky, concerned look.

It's lucky that the King came because they obviously had a plan.

There is a long span of silence as the King makes his way to the Iron Throne, the Queen looks anguished and my mother looks hopeful. Mother and grandsire look to each other and then he looks to the Hand.

"I will sit the throne today."

"Your Grace."

The Kingsguard attempts to help him up the steps but is quickly brushed off. My father follows instead and I have a soft smile at the tender show of affection as Prince Daemon places the crown on the King's head. I feel Aemond's stare on me once more.

"I must... admit... my confusion." The King huffs out. "I do not understand why petitions are being heard over a settled succession. The only one present... who might offer keener insight into Lord Corlys's wishes is the Princess Rhaenys."

"Indeed, your Grace." Rhaenys steps foreword. "It was ever my husband's will that Driftmark pass through Ser Laenor to his trueborn son... Lucerys Velaryon. His mind never changed. Nor did my support of him. As a matter of fact, the Princess Rhaenyra has just informed me of her desire to marry her sons, Jace and Luke to Lord Corlys's granddaughters, Baela and Rhaena. A proposal to which I heartily agree."

My heart drops into my stomach. I hope what I heard was a lie, that it is Rhaena marrying Luke and that is the end of it. I hope nobody notices how tightly I am squeezing my hands together, I feel as though I am about to shatter my bones. My entire life's plan has just crumbled before my eyes as Baela sends a quick smile to Jace. Every thought comes to my head.

What does this mean for me? What if I don't find a man as good as Jace? I'll never be Queen. Did I even want to be Queen?

I will not kid myself by saying I was in love with my twin brother. Loved him? Yes. But in love with him? I was happy for that to come with time. Now I have no idea what will become of me. Jacaerys was safe, this is not safe. I feel as though I am hyperventilating and I still feel his goddamn eyes on me.

I am broken out of my panicked state by Ser Vaemond shouting.

"That!" He points to Luke. "is no true Velaryon, and certainly no nephew of mine."

"Go to your chambers." Mother tries to send us away. "You have said enough." This time she speaks to Vaemond.

"Lucerys is my true-born grandson." the King speaks. "And you are no more than the second of Driftmark."

"You... may run your house as you see fit... but you will not decide the future of mine. My house survived the Doom and a thousand tribulations besides. And gods be damned... I will not see it ended on the account of this--"

"Say it." Daemon hisses.

"Her children... are bastards! And she... is... a whore." The crowds gasp at his absolute audacity.

"I..." the King unsheathes his dagger. "will have your tongue for that."

Dark Sister slices through the air as my stepfather relieves Ser Vaemond of half of his head. His body slumps to the floor.

"He can keep his tongue." I can see the hint of a smirk coming onto the prince's face.

"Disarm him!" Otto shouts.

"No need."

In all the commotion and stress, the King falls to his throne.

"Call the maesters!" The Queen shouts.
Everything is happening in such a rush, I hardly have time to think as the King is escorted away. Daemon returns to my side, a spot of blood on his face. I absentmindedly reach for my handkerchief.

"Kepa?" (Father) He turns his head to me and I wipe the blood from him.

"Dōna riña." (Sweet girl) He smiles softly and tilts my chin up with his finger. It's an affectionate gesture, meant to calm me I suppose; it does little to quell the deep feeling of dread that is once again rising.