King's Landing, The Red Keep - 128 AC

As the banquet ended, I stormed into my chambers, anger boiling within me. My father was right behind, his own fury evident in the sharpness of his steps. The sight of Aegon parading around, flaunting his Baratheon loyalty and undermining our family's legacy, had pushed us both to the edge.

"Orys! He gives my grandson a BASTARD NAME!" I cried out, my voice echoing off the stone walls.

"Forget the name!" My father snapped, his voice cold and cutting. "He calls himself his wife's HANDSOME ACCESSORY! How are we supposed to secure allies when your stupid son insists on undermining everything? He conceded to take his wife's surname, he defers to her judgment, and his current child doesn't look Targaryen, and judging from Princess Rhaenys, none of his future children will either. Why have you raised such a foolish son?"

The slap came out of nowhere, a sharp, stinging blow that sent me down to my knees. I held my throbbing cheek, astonished and humiliated. Queen or not, in moments like these, I was always that fearful little girl in the presence of my father.

I wanted to defend myself, to tell him that I had raised good and pious children. But the words died on my lips. Because even I could see that none of them had grown up to be the torchbearers of the Hightower plans. Helaena, my precious girl, was in love with a bastard. Aemond was more Velaryon than Hightower or Targaryen. Daeron was best friends with Rhaenyra's bastards. And Aegon… he was an embarrassment. He had always been an embarrassment, but now he was a laughingstock.

I struggled to rise, my legs shaky. The sting of the slap lingered, not just on my cheek but deep within my heart. I had always wanted the best for my children, had tried to guide them toward a future where they could hold power and command respect. But now, it seemed all my efforts had been for nothing.

Father's eyes bore into me, cold and unyielding. "You must regain control of this situation, Alicent," he said, his voice a low growl. "We cannot let Rhaenyra and her brood win. We cannot let our legacy be tarnished by your son's foolishness."

I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. I knew he was right. We had to find a way to turn this around, to salvage what we could of our plans. But how? With Aegon undermining us at every turn, it seemed an impossible task.

As I stood there, still holding my cheek, a sense of hopelessness washed over me. I gave everything for my children, for our family. But now, it felt as if everything was slipping through my fingers.

"Aegon will see reason," I said, more to myself than to Otto. "He must."

But even as I said the words, I wasn't sure I believed them. Aegon had always been stubborn and reckless. And now, with his newfound loyalty to the Baratheons, it seemed he was determined to go against everything we had worked for.

Father turned away, his frustration evident. "You must make him see reason, Alicent," he said insistently. "For the sake of our family's future."

I watched him leave, my heart heavy. I knew I had to try, for the sake of our family's future. But as I stood there, alone in my chambers, the weight of it all threatened to overwhelm me. I had always been strong, had always found a way to keep going. But now, I wasn't sure I had the strength left to fight this battle.

I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. I had to be strong. I had to find a way to bring Aegon back to our side. Because if I didn't, everything we had worked for, everything we had sacrificed, would be for nothing. And that was something I couldn't bear to think about.

The following day, Father and I sat in a tense, private meeting, raving about how to turn the tides in our favor. The tension in the room was palpable, our discussions a whirlwind of frustration and desperation. We went over potential alliances, possible marriages, and even whispered threats. We were trying to grasp at anything that could restore our influence and secure the future for my children.

"We need a new strategy," Father said, pacing the room with a ferocity that matched my own inner turmoil. "Our current position is too precarious. We need a way to make the people see us as the rightful rulers, to rally them to our cause."

I nodded, my mind racing. "We could strengthen our ties with the other houses. Maybe... maybe we could find a way to remind everyone of our loyalty to the realm, to peace and stability."

Father waved his hand dismissively. "Loyalty and peace are fine sentiments, Alicent, but they won't win us the throne. We need something more. Something decisive."

As we brainstormed, an idea suddenly struck him. "Wait," Father said, his eyes gleaming with a dangerous light. "Aegon stepped down as a Targaryen, which means he renounced his claim to the throne. That makes Aemond the rightful heir to Viserys, as the oldest male of the king's line with a legitimate claim."

I paused, the idea taking root. "That would mean Aemond king with Lucerys as his queen? The realm loves their Pearl of Driftmark."

Father's face lit up with approval. "Yes, yes! The people already adore Lucerys. She has a strong presence and commands respect. With Aemond by her side, we could have the perfect blend of power and popularity."

We summoned Aemond to our presence, my heart pounding with anticipation. Father was acting with a familiarity that made me feel nervous. He might be Aemond's grandfather, but he was never a consistent presence in his life. What right did he have to behave so intimately with my sweet boy?

When Aemond arrived, we laid out the plan in detail. Father's eyes gleamed with the fervor of his conviction. "Aemond," he began, "you are the rightful heir to Viserys. With Aegon stepping down, the path is clear. We need you to take the throne, with Lucerys as your queen. The realm loves her, and with your combined strength, we can restore our family's honor and power."

I watched my son closely, hoping for a sign of agreement. For a moment, it seemed he was considering it, and my heart soared with anticipation. But then, with a boldness that took my breath away, he told us, "You can take your plans, Grandfather, and shove them as far up as they'll go. I have no interest in your schemes."

I gasped, taken aback by the sailor's mouth my precious prince seemed to have acquired during his time sailing around Driftmark. "While Lucy would look lovely in a crown, she wants nothing to do with the Iron Throne. Our home is in Driftmark." he continued. The glowing hearts in his eyes made me want to facepalm. I was happy for my son finding love, but Aemond was besotted to the point of stupidity.

It was then that my father's patience finally snapped. He started shouting, his face turning an alarming shade of red. "Rhaenyra is a whore! Her children are bastards! If we do not act, she will put herself on the throne and kill all of you— you and your siblings, Aegon, Helaena, and Daeron! We must put you on the throne now, or face ruin!"

Aemond simply raised an eyebrow, a perfect imitation of Princess Rhaenys that took my breath away, and replied, "Rhaenyra is also a sibling, Grandfather."

Father's face turned a shade of purple I'd never seen before. But Aemond stood firm, his gaze steady and unyielding. My heart swelled with a mix of pride and frustration. He was my son, strong and resolute, yet his love for Lucerys blinded him to the realities we faced.

"Aemond," I said gently, trying to soften my tone. "Think of the future, think of our family."

"I am, Mother," he replied, his voice softening as he looked at me. "But my future is with Lucy, in Driftmark. Not on the Iron Throne."

I felt a pang of defeat, realizing that no amount of persuasion would change his mind. As my father continued to fume and rant, I could only watch my son, wondering how things had come to this and what the future now held for our family.

Just then, as my father was about to explode in his rage, the doors of the chamber were slammed open, and the Small Council stepped inside the apartment. My face lost all color, and I saw Father's knees buckle as he fell back into his chair, while Aemond smirked winningly.

"Did you really think I would come here without a backup plan?" Aemond inquired, amusement dancing in his eyes. He turned to the Small Council and nodded politely. "Thank you for coming."

Rhaenyra stepped forward, her presence commanding the room. "Thank you, little brother, for getting the confession out of the traitors to the crown." Her voice was calm, but there was an underlying edge to it that made my heart sink.

"It was my duty as a prince of the realm," Aemond replied, then glanced at me, giving a small apologetic smile before he left.

I could barely breathe, feeling utterly betrayed by my favorite child. The emotions were oppressive, suffocating me. Rhaenyra stared at me as if she didn't recognize me, and it made my skin crawl. Rhaenyra sighed and shook her head, looking at me with profound disappointment. "Even if I hated my half-siblings, which I do not, I would never kill any of them. That would make me a kinslayer, and I am not that."

Her husband, Ser Laenor Velaryon, stepped forward, his expression unreadable. "Escort Ser Otto Hightower to the Black Cells pending his trial for high treason to the Iron Throne," Rhaenyra commanded.

"No!" I cried out, trying to stop them. "I am the queen! My orders are above even the Crown Princess!"

But no one in the Small Council moved. One of them, Lord Lyman Beesbury, spoke up, his tone cold. "The only reason you are not in the Black Cells and will not be on trial is because of the deal we cut with Prince Aemond to spare you from the crimes committed by House Hightower."

The betrayal I felt from Aemond lessened slightly, replaced by a mix of anger and fear. But it didn't stop Rhaenyra from commanding the Golden Cloaks to imprison me in my quarters until the trial against House Hightower was over.

I watched, powerless, as they escorted my father away. My heart ached as I saw Ser Harwin Strong, Rhaenyra's paramount and father of her bastards, dragging a knocked-out Ser Criston Cole towards the Black Cells, walking alongside Laenor and my father.

"Rhaenyra," I called out, my voice trembling. "Please... he's my father."

Rhaenyra turned to me, her eyes hard. "And he's a traitor, Alicent. Just like Criston... and you."

Tears welled up in my eyes as the reality of the situation sank in. My father, my strongest ally, was being taken away, and I was left to face the consequences of our actions alone. The weight of my choices and the betrayal of my son pressed down on me, leaving me feeling more isolated and vulnerable than ever before.

However, even with the weight of all these emotions crashing over me, there was a strange and unexpected relief. Relief that my father was finally behind bars, that he would no longer be able to strike me or manipulate me with his ruthless control. For the first time in what felt like forever, I felt a sliver of freedom from his oppressive shadow. But that relief quickly gave way to guilt, a crushing, suffocating guilt that I was trying to shove away into the corners of my mind.

I sat there, staring at the spot where Father had just been dragged away, the echo of his angry shouts still lingering in the cold, stone walls of the chamber. I should have felt victorious, but all I felt was a bitter tangle of regret and self-reproach. How had it come to this? How had I become the kind of person who wanted her own father imprisoned? It was easy to blame Father for pushing me into those sins, for forcing me into a role I had never wanted. But I couldn't deny that I had been complicit. I could have said no, could have gone to Rhaenyra, who had once been my closest friend, and begged for her help. I could have sought refuge from her kindness, from the bond we had shared as children. But I hadn't. I had been a coward, bending to Father's demands like a leaf in the wind, too weak to stand up for myself.

I knew it was all my fault. I was the one who had seduced a grieving, widowed king, the one who had sired Aegon outside of wedlock. I had always known that part of my displeasure with Aegon stemmed from the fact that he was not premature; I had gotten pregnant before my wedding to the king. Aegon was a bastard, even if he had been born after I became a wife. All of this was my fault, a result of my sins.

Just then, a high-pitched scream snapped me out of my stupor. I looked up, noticing that the Small Council had gone, with the exception of Rhaenyra and Lord Corlys Velaryon. A panting handmaid crashed through the doors, her face horrified. What left her lips made me collapse in horror.

"Someone tried to kill Prince Aegon's son!"