King's Landing – 112 AC

I growled as I slammed the door of my bedchambers. Nothing has gone my way this year! The king refused to have more children, leaving the duty of producing an heir to that spoiled brat of his. How am I supposed to have that infertil wrench killed if not by childbirth?! Even if I do kill her, how is my daughter suppose to become queen if the king insists that his heirs will be the children of his daughter and that whore she has of a dornish husband?! The lords won't support the king taking another wife and pushing the realm into another dispute for the crown, not when Dorne finally joined us with the stipulation that Martell blood has to sit on the throne! Not to mention, that bitch has the Vale and the Velaryons backing her as well.

Let's not start with the people, who are calling her the second coming of Queen Alysanne The Good! Fools! All of them! She is an heretic with queer costumes, have they not seen what she did to the Faith? What she inspired other lords to do as well? No longer is the Faith receiving donations that are not the bare minimun, the Ladies of the various houses have been encouraged by the whore princess to use that money to open their own orphanages, soup kicthens, and schools. Foolish women that do not deserve to be put to work other than to give pleasure to men and give us children. That's why they are weak! Why educate the commoners? Has everyone lost their mind?

This has only worked to spread the word of the princess' actions and have ballads praising her and her beauty around the whole realm.

The only thing I could pray on was that she had inherited her useless mother's problems. But that did not bore any fruit either. In only two months she had gotten pregnant and her pregnancy was as easy as they come. The court has been talking her up as if she had been blessed by the Gods themselves! The worst is that Mellos could not get any closer to try and... aid the process.

That idot of a puppet king has been delighted with those Essos whores that call themselves healers. His daughter had gotten pregnant in two moons and her pregancy has been so smooth, no one could utter a bad word about them without being sent out of court.

My useless daughter was the only one of my pawns close enough to her, but even she failed. When once upon of a time she had the most looked after position as the only Lady in Waiting of the Princess. She now is only part of her ladies court, with her queer cousin at the helm and filled with dornish whores. They can call themselves ladies of the great houses of Dorne, but everyone knows that none of them are maidens. Whores is what they are.

"Father, the feast will start soon," my sniveling daughter approached me in her green dress.

I looked at her with disdain, scoffing when she flinched. How someone as pathetic as her could have been born from me? Why could she had not been more like her brother? Then again she is a woman, she will never be able to be as good as men.

I grabbed my coat and made my way towards the banquet hall. Today marked the end of the tourney to celebrate the wedding of the king's warmonger brother and the desperate Velaryan's daughter. Once again, neither of them decided to be wedded under the Light of the Seven, condeming their souls and their children's souls. They wedded in their queer costume in Dragonstone and then returned to King's Landing for the festivities. Once more, the king did not hold back and spent ammounts of money no other lord could in a single week. This should have been the festivities my daughter should have as the future queen. Not these degenerates!

"Otto! Come!" The fool of Viserys greeted me beaming, clapping the back of his brother, who looked more uncomfortable than happy. That's another thing I've noticed, when once Daemon was like a pathetic dog looking for any scrap of affection from his brother, he is now almost apathetic to him. There's no doubt that the Targaryen were united, but it was clear they were not united behind the king. "Hasn't it been a wonderful celebration?"

"It has been, Your Grace," I bowed, taking my seat on the High Table, with my daughter by my side. I looked around the table, hiding my distaste of the ones seating around it. The king and queen, their daughter and good-son, the bride and groom, and the bride's family. I was outmatched, but just for tonight. "Congratulations your highnesses."

"Thank you Lord Hand," Laena smiled like the stupid little girl she is, while Daemon snorted like the beast he was.

"How are is the princess doing tonight?" I turned to the bane of my existance, Rhaenyra Targaryen. She was dressing like a whore, with a yellow trnish gown with a deep v-neck, literally showing her pink little cloth to everyone. She was practically seating on her husband's lap, who was matching her with his dornish yellow coat with golden suns along the front. I cannot belive how they are allowed to behave themselves like this during a royal banquet. "How's the babe coming?"

"Oh, I'm doing wonderfully!" The little bitch beamed at me, placing a hand over her belly. Her whore of a husband soon followed placing a hand over hers. I almost gagged when the whole table awed and turned to look at them fondly, even my stupid daughter! "I could not have asked for a more attentive family... I..." she groaned in pain, holding her belly.

"Rhaenyra! Are you ok?" Viserys jumped off his chair and rushed to her side, the banquet hall went silent as the music stopped playing and everyone turned towards the royal family.

"My love, your water just broke," Qoren told her worriedly yet excited. I looked down and realized that his breeches were soaked. "Someone call Healer Sedan!" He shouted and the servants rushed to obey him. "Come on, my love, let's take you to your chambers." He lifted her up in his arms and I groaned as the ladies of the court sighed at how strong the prince was.

"Is it truly safe to leave the princess in the care of some unknown person from Essos?" I slithered towards the king. "I'm sure Mellos would take a great care of the princess when she is in such a delicate situation."

"Like he cared when I lost all of my children?" Problem number two, Aemma Arryn, commented drily. "Come on my husband, we need to be there for our daughter." She turned towards the lords and ladies present. "Everyone please continue to have a good time, our apologies for the scene. To my good-brother and good-sister, forgive our absence tonight. But this night is yours, enjoy it the most."

"We will, please inform us when our nephew will be born," Daemon smirked, arm wrapped around his wife's shoulder.

"We will," Aemma smiled, before turning to me and smile turning sharp. "Otto, stay here. As Hand of the King it is your duty to represent the king and queen while we are absent."

"I'm sure I should..." however, before I could talk my way into accompany them, the king spoke.

"Do that," Viserys said absentmindedly. "Come on wife, we have a daughter to be with."

He marched fowards with a smirking Aemma, as the crowd parted ways for them. The music began to play again hesitately after a couple of minutes of silence, but no one was interested in dancing. They were all gossiping about the impending new heir.

I seethed silently on my seat, as the Velaryons talked about how happy they were about their new family member. My stupid daughter and the new Princess Targaryen were gossiping to each other like little girls. Chatting up about how eager they'll be to take care of the new prince.

Why was everyone giving for granted that it will be a boy? Or that it will live? Has the history with the infertile Queen Aemma not been enogh proof? If the babe takes the whore with it, we will all be better for it!

I had not realized how deep in thought I was or how long it had passed, until a servant girl barged into the banquet hall with a wide smile on her face. Everyone stopped for a second time that night, to turn around and observe the girl.

"Princess Rhaenyra has delivered a healthy baby safely, they are both resting now!" The girl announced to the roaring crowd. I felt my heart sink, but held into hope that it will be a girl. "Prince Jacaerys Targaryen-Martell, of House Targaryen and House Martell has been born today!"

"An heir to the throne!" Someone in the crowd exclaimed, as the crowd's cheered loudly.

"She is truly blessed by the Gods!"

"Long live Princess Rhaenyra!"

"Long live Prince Jacaerys!"

"Long live House Targaryen!"

I turned towards my right, ignoring my pathetic daughter crying from relief in Laena Targaryen's arms, to observe Daemon. He was leaning back on his seat, as if it was a throne, lazily drinking from his cup of wine, as he stared at me like a dragon who had just won.

He will soon see! They all will! I am Otto Hightower and I will not be defeated that easily!

A/N:

I really hate writing Otto's P.O.V. He is such a horrible character!

Rhaenyra's dress: es/listing/454233946/juego-de-tronos-myrcella-baratheon-dorne

Qoren's outfit: . /pin/437341813809766031/