Chapter Forty Three

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Just as they had done over twenty years ago, the Lords of the realm had funneled into the Great Hall ready to bend the knee to the King's chosen heir. Elowen was reminded of the day Rhaenyra had been named heir to the Iron Throne and how proud she had been of the girl she had helped raise. Now Elowen's son would be named heir, passing over Rhaenyra and her sons in favor of Aemond and whatever children he and Rhaena had.

Elowen's stomach twisted with guilt as her heart and mind warred over if this was right. Part of her still adored Rhaenyra and loved the young teen she had once been. Her heart ached for those memories, yearning for a different future, one where Rhaenyra still loved her as she once had. Elowen's mind fought back, reminding her of Rhaenyra's actions and words over the past two decades. Elowen had tried her hardest, she had attempted to bridge the chasm that had grown and divided House Targaryen.

"Elowen?" Viserys croaked from behind her, causing the Queen to turn and watch as the palanquin was set down and Viserys was helped to his feet.

"My love," Elowen greeted, she couldn't help the smile that lit up her face as she was faced with her husband. She quickly moved to stand in front of him. Her hands flew to the crown resting upon his head, tilting it slightly so it rested evenly over his forehead. Once she was satisfied, Elowen moved to cup his face in her hands. The metal of the golden mask was cold against her palm, while the bare skin of his cheek warmed her fingertips. She slowly tipped her head forward until her forehead rested against his own. "Are you ready?"

Viserys nodded, nudging Elowen to turn around so they could enter the Great Hall. Elowen followed her husband's unspoken direction and moved to stand by his side as two Kingsguards opened the doors.

"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. And his lady wife, Queen Elowen Corbray, the Good Wife."

The lords and ladies of the realm stood to their feet and turned to watch as the King and Queen descended into the throne room. Elowen slowed her steps so she remained at Viserys's side. She didn't attempt to offer him any aid, knowing that especially now Viserys needed to be seen as independent. There could be no suggestion that he was not in his right mind, nor any rumors that Elowen had coerced him to change the succession. Elowen had no doubt that Rhaenyra and any supporters she had would attempt to spin the narrative and paint Elowen as a conniving Queen.

Viserys paused as they finally reached the steps leading up to the Iron Throne, already his bones ached and his chest heaved from the effort it took to fill his lungs. Elowen stepped slightly to the side, closer to Viserys so her hip brushed against his side in a show of silent support. Viserys nodded, taking a deep breath as he forced himself forward and began to climb up the stairs. He landed heavily onto the Iron Throne, throwing himself onto his seat. He motioned for Elowen to speak as he tried to catch his breath.

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