A Crown in the Balance
Chapter 1
Everyone rose at dawn at this cold morning of anticipation, even the children. To his surprise, Jaehaerys realized that he had slept like a log – the unspeakable tension of the last few months while they were waiting to see how the tide would turn was already taking its toll. Unlike him, his wife had been obviously weeping desolately, although he was sure the paint would hide any trace of her distress. Together, they stared at the pigeons taking off from their nests under the rafters to go on their business before sitting to break their fast. Even the children realized that there was something going on because they were strangely silent; suddenly amused, Jaehaerys now saw that they did have table manners that did not include stealing tidbits from each other's plate whenever they had the chance, after all.
Shortly afterwards, it was almost time to leave. Jaehaerys went to his bedchamber and looked with distaste at the finery laid at his bed. Usually, he disliked wearing the Targaryen colours because they enhanced the sickly pallor of his skin and the frailness of his frame but today, it was a special occasion, so he resignedly reached for the tunic in red and black. When he was ready, he touched the dragon egg he kept in his bedchamber – a ritual that had been soothing to him since childhood, when his grandfather gave it to him and his mother assured him that the egg would chase any malady away. It was blue and white, like sky adorned with small clouds. He believed it brought him luck.
The escort was ready – about twenty of the household knights and two Kingsguard, led by the Lord Commander itself, an unexpected honour. Jaehaerys' eyes traveled up, all the way to the big knight's face and stayed there. Ser Duncan the Tall's cloak was immaculately white, his conduct the picture of duty, yet for someone who knew him as well as Jaehaerys it was obvious that he was deeply concerned. He didn't like what was going on. No one does, Jaehaerys thought. Father, the Small Council, the family, I… Only Duncan doesn't care. He looked down, trying to stifle the sudden anger at his brother for taking the easy way out, not caring about the consequences.
The party left slowly. Jaehaerys immediately saw that the streets were black with people. All those who lined the long road, they must have been waiting for hours. Their faces lit up as the mounted group passed by, they waved and screamed themselves hoarse. Jaehaerys' name came out again and again.
Quite unexpectedly, the Prince found himself moved. His throat closed. The people of King's Landing where he had grown up in gave him their trust, accepted him, celebrated him despite the highborns' derision for his frailty, despite the fact that he had yet to do anything for them or the realm… It was an indication of his father's success, of the glorious legacy he would have to prove worthy of. I will, he vowed. As many years as the Seven see fit to grant me – I'll spend them all serving. As they were starting to climb Aegon's Hill, another realization came to him – that today, he was going to the Red Keep to take his brother's place, his brother who they had also loved and applauded… But they had come – thousands of them.
Now, only one question remained: would he be accepted by the high lords, the four Wardens of Westeros? This kingdom had known the Dance of Dragons, the Blackfyre Rebellions, the strife between many who wished to be king; but the peaceful withdrawal that Duncan gave now, it was something new. It should have gone smoothly. It would have, had it not been for Jaehaerys' damned health, or rather the lack thereof.
As soon as they dismounted, Jaehaerys was escorted to the King's chambers where he saw Alor Gargalen just leaving. The King's Hand bowed low, as if Jaehaerys was already the affirmed heir, and went on his way. Not a smile, not a reassuring word. That's how it should be, the Prince thought. Now, it wasn't the time for reassurances.
The King waited in his solar. Duncan stood at the window. At Jaehaerys' entering, they both turned. "The people will love you," Duncan said and grinned.
"It isn't their love I'm concerned about right now," Jaehaerys replied.
Duncan poured him a goblet but Jaehaerys declined. For a while, he stared at his brother. Duncan was as handsome and cheerful as ever, as if he didn't realize the hard place he had put them into. His black hair shone, his eyes glowed. He looked happy, relaxed. Of course, Jaehaerys thought resentfully. No matter what happens now, he's free of the hardest one of all duties.
"Was it really needed for you to summon the Wardens?" Duncan asked his father.
The last months had aged the King with decades. His features were now sharper, his face gaunter. His eyes flashed at his eldest a bolt of deep purple anger. "Yes," he said. "Because if we don't reach accord now, it might come to a Great Council now – or after my death. You both remember the last time we had one?"
Jaehaerys and Duncan both shuddered. They remembered. "Where is Mother?" Jaehaerys asked, trying to steer the conversation to a safer ground.
"She's ill," Aegon said.
And a very convenient illness it was. Now, the Small Council and the Wardens would discuss Jaehaerys' and his younger brother Aemon's makings and faults at great length, trying to decide whether they could affirm Aegon's choice of successor when the chosen one was… a weakling, an invalid, as the rumour was. A very convenient illness, indeed. One that prevented Rhae from witnessing her sons' public humiliation. Jaehaerys looked aside.
It would be simpler if the King would just announce his wish and will. But it would be no sure thing. They needed to bind the great lords to assure Jaehaerys' succession – and they needed to get their support willingly. That was why Aegon would not attend the session that was taking place right now. Jaehaerys would have to convince them of his worth all on his own.
"Are you ready?" Aegon asked.
Jaehaerys nodded and went through the door a servant now held open.