Chapter 10: The Wedding of a Brother

114 AC

I admired the clear auburn liquid before me. I observed it keenly as I swilled it slightly before taking a careful sip.

The whiskey tasted good enough. Rich and smooth, though a bit lighter than what I vaguely remembered. Maybe because this one wasn't aged at all. I didn't remember how long whiskey needed to be properly aged anyway.

I poured a bit for Harry on my side and waited until he finished.

"I think I found the problem, Lord Corwyn. The amount of yeast I used before, while correct for my usual brew, is actually lacking for this one. For this batch, I tried to increase the amount of yeast I used. How's the taste to you, m'lord?"

I savored the aftertaste of the drink and grinned. "My word, this one tastes much better than the previous batch. You outdone yourself, Rodney."

True enough. It might've been nearly a lifetime since I tried one, but it felt just right on my tongue.

Harry nodded in agreement. "Taste mighty fine, though felt light. Is that on purpose?"

"Well, it should be aged a bit more, like all liquor." I shrugged in response. We hadn't tried how the whiskey would taste after a bit of aging, but that would be a problem for another day. Now the next step we needed to take was to set up production.

I knew the process to make whiskey was almost similar to beer. Made from wheat or rye and fermented with yeast. The main difference was that whiskey didn't contain hops and was further distilled in copper stills before being put in oaken casks.

However, knowing how to make it and being able to make it were two different things. Brewing was a skill that I lacked in both of my lives, and unlike swordsmanship, it didn't come naturally to me. Instead, I was forced to commission someone else to make the idea practical.

I found a skilled brewer on Driftmark, a man named Rodney, and promised him a reward and shares in my future whiskey business. It was quite a windfall for me to find a skilled brewer in Driftmark. We were not known for our liquor.

While the whiskey was fairly successful, the brandy still required a bit of work before it tasted right, though I was confident we could recreate it eventually. It was just distilled wine, higher in alcohol, and more expensive.

Rodney didn't know much about wine, unfortunately, which left me to search for a winemaker specifically. I'd rather we look in Driftmark, but if we couldn't, then there'd be no choice but to look further out. The risk of a leak was higher, but there was no venture without risk.

The Crownlands did have our own sizable viniculture. Granted, we couldn't compete against the Reach in terms of quality, but the wines still found their market, mostly because they were noticeably cheaper.

Turning those cheap wines into something more expensive and profitable..., hmm, that's how proper trade worked.

"I will prepare for the production soon. We'll need to set aside the land necessary to build the facility and hire trusted hands. We'd also need to set up regular imports of wheat from the mainland."

Driftmark was lacking in its ability to produce crops, what with us being a small island and all. This would be an issue if I intended to build a liquor production enterprise.

Rodney nodded and wrote my orders on a slim bit of parchment. That was another bit of a surprise. Apparently, he was taught how to read and write by his father's merchant friend long ago.

"It will take some time. In the meantime, make sure to keep the way of making it secret."

The secret to making whiskey would come out eventually. It wasn't that difficult, after all. I was just hoping my brand would take a sizable lead by the time it inevitably proliferated.

That was why I chose to build its production in Driftmark instead of Deathmaw as well. I didn't trust anyone in Deathmaw not to sell the recipe at the first opportunity.

"Where did you think to make such a drink anyway? One of the books you read?" Harry asked as we left the brewer's shop.

"Maybe? I remember reading somewhere that there's a place in Essos where distilled grain liquor is popular. I just thought to recreate it on a whim."

That would be my prepared excuse if someone asked me where I got the idea.

As I made my way back to High Tide, I thought back to everything I'd done in the last three months.

The whiskey and brandy were my personal interests, something that I had been planning since long ago. My effort to gather settlers for Deathmaw, which I really need to call something else soon, was going steady. With the newest batch having successfully made the trip, there should be over one hundred Westerosi in Deathmaw.

Father said he'd allow me to take five hundred settlers from his island, though I was reluctant to accept that. Driftmark was already thinly populated, even with the long peace of Jaehaerys and Viserys' reign. I needed to calculate this more thoroughly before I could accept Father's offer.

Well, if I still need settlers, I was sure I could entice some crownlanders to settle there by promising to make them yeoman farmers. Farmers loved having their own land.

I must tread carefully, though. Poaching smallfolk was considered a serious offense among the nobility.

I sighed. There were a thousand things to do and too little time.

As I entered High Tide and went into my apartment, I found Mother waiting for me in the lower hall.

Mother looked at me in disapproval. "Follow me, Corwyn."

What do I do now?

I followed Mother into a side gallery overlooking the sea and sat on one of the chairs.

Mother stared at me with all the haughtiness of a proud lady mother she could muster for a long time before deigning to finally speak.

"Your brother's wedding will be held in a sennight. Why are you still here?"

"Overseeing my whiskey production and gathering settlers for my island."

If anything, her disapproval merely grew. "You're still playing with liquor? You know you can do that later on your own island. The settlers are important, but not so important as to neglect your brother's royal wedding."

"I don't understand the hurry, Mother. It takes only about six or seven days to sail from Driftmark to King's Landing." That's even if we sailed anyway. With a dragon, we'd reach King's Landing in less than a day. "I can afford a few days."

"You know how fickle the seas are. That's why your Father and Sister already went last week. Remember, this will be an event of the utmost importance for us Velaryons. To appear late is unacceptable, much less to not attend. You're no longer a small boy, people will expect things from you."

I looked at her incredulously. "So why are you still here too?"

"Because I want to make sure you won't forget the wedding."

"By the gods, Mother." I laughed as I shook my head. "Alright, sure. My efforts here are doing pretty well. I'm sure I can leave tomorrow just fine."

Mother's feature softened. "Good. I'm glad that you finally see sense. I'll sail with you on the morrow."

I leaned back on my chair as I reflected. I remembered guessing how my family would push Leanor to marry Rhaenyra years ago. It took a long time, but we succeeded. With this, the future of the Velaryons would be secure for generations.

"Speaking of Laenor's wedding, I always wonder how the inheritance will work." I spoke. "People who marry into the royal family keep their name, like Queen Aemma Arryn and Alicent Hightower, so Laenor will remain a Velaryon. How about their children, then? By all traditions, children inherit their father's name, save for some extraordinary conditions." Like the near extinction of the mother's house, for example.

"The children will be Velaryons, though the one who inherits the throne will assume the Targaryen name."

Mother would know. In another life, she would've been a queen, and Laenor would be a Targaryen prince.

I rose from my seat. "If that's all, then I'll need to go now. I'll be looking forward to the festivities. Especially the joust and the melee."

Mother rolled her eyes.

"It is unseemly to hold a melee at a wedding, and you know that."

The wedding was a grand affair. Lords near and far were invited, and almost all citizens of King's Landing seemed to make an attempt at witnessing the wedding. The Great Sept could scarcely contain the endless sea of people.

"There's a great crowd." I said more to break the silence than to have anything worth saying. I had never seen such a large number of humans in a place.

"Of course they'd be. This is the marriage of a princess." Laena said, looking straight ahead at our wedded brother.

Laenor and Rhaenyra made for a handsome pair, everyone would admit. Laenor's hair was combed and tied in a more elaborate style than he usually preferred, clad in an embroidered sea-green suit and white sash. Rhaenyra was draped in black silk with Myrish lace trims, and the hem of her dress was an endless train. She also bedecked herself in all manners of jewelry, gold and silver, with pearls, amethysts, and rubies aplenty.

I thought the entire ensemble looked too difficult to walk in, but she managed just fine.

The High Septon presided over the marriage; his garish crystal and gold crown rested heavy on his head. The seven vows were uttered and answered with the seven blessings. When the wedding song had been sung, King Viserys stepped forward to gently remove the bride's maiden cloak. Laenor accepted the bride's cloak from Father, supposedly the same one given to Mother as well, and unfurled it with a flap. He draped his bride in Velaryon sea-green, then fastened it tenderly just above her chest.

"With this kiss, I pledge my love," Laenor proclaimed, followed by Rhaenyra. They shared a kiss, to the clapping of the crowd.

With that, the marriage was complete. Even the normally unflappable Mother was seemingly struggling to contain her tears at my side.

The procession continued to the Red Keep after that, with white cloaks in the front and gold cloaks lining the street. The smallfolk cheered, praised, and prayed as the royal couple went. Pages and ladies threw petals before the pair as they walked.

"I still can't believe we'll have a seventy-seven course dinner after this." Laena whispered to me. Being the kin of the groom meant we walked side-by-side with locked arms near the front of the procession, just behind Father and Mother.

"The king spared no expense for his daughter's wedding." I answered, carefully pacing myself so I wouldn't sweat like a pig under this midday sun. "And I believe anything we don't eat would be given to the smallfolk." An eventuality, as no one could finish seventy-seven courses of food by themselves. This would be another example of King Viserys' generosity to the smallfolk.

"Do be careful of what you drink later." Laena said, a smile still plastered on her face. "Remember the joust is tomorrow, and you'll represent the Velaryons there. It'll be a shame if you fall down on the first tilt because you're too drunk to sit a horse. You also have your own reputation as a warrior to protect."

"Just a cup of wine then, though victory will be difficult no matter how much I drink. Ser Criston is an able jouster, and plenty of notable jousters are already gathered in the capital."

I didn't know what happened, but I heard whispers of Ser Criston distancing himself from the princess' faction, or the blacks, as some would call it, not long after he was appointed Lord Commander. I'd find the sheer idea preposterous, if not for his accompanying Queen Alicent during most of the ceremony earlier and the sharp glares he gave Rhaenyra and Laenor.

I wonder what transpired that led to him seeing Rhaenyra as his foe. Enough that he seemingly considered all the Velaryons as enemies by proxy as well, simply because one of us was to be married to her.

He wouldn't even be our only opponent in the coming days. By marrying Laenor to Rhaenyra, Father bound our fate to the blacks. Rhaenyra needed to ascend to the throne for us to be victorious.

We swim, or we die.

A pang of regret passed through my mind. Queen Alicent was kind to me during my stay here. How many of my friends and acquaintances would look at me as an enemy in the future, simply because of who my brother wedded?

The procession took some time as we made our way to Aegon's Hill, waving and smiling at the cheering smallfolk on the side. I banished dark thoughts from my head. Whatever happens in the future, today was a happy day, and I'd enjoy it.

The morning of the joust was blessedly cool. I sat inside my pavilion as the squire father lent me fastened my armour piece by piece.

I was grateful for these small moments of quiet before the tilts. It helped my concentration. The feast last night was magnificent, though the courses were still excessive. I only took a spoonful of each course and still felt bloated this morning. It was a miracle that I could still eat breakfast.

I sensed a shufling movement outside of my tent and peeked my head out. There was Laenor, clad in a simpler doublet and accompanied by Joffrey on his side.

"Brother." He greeted me. His voice was small. "I'm here to offer my wish for your success in the joust."

Laenor looked anxious, I thought. Almost scared. "I can't recognize you without all the embroidery." I said jokingly, mostly in an attempt to cheer him on. Laenor hadn't looked well since the feast last night.

He smiled weakly. "You'll understand when your turn comes."

I nodded to Ser Joffrey. "Speaking of well wishes, is it fair to wish for my success alone? Ser Joffrey will also participate, isn't he?"

"I will pray to the Warrior for both of your success, of course."

Laenor gestured something quickly to Joffrey, who scooted away further as he entered the tent. Catching his signal, I dismissed the squire for the moment and invited Laenor to sit.

We sat in silence for a while. I thought to break the silence first, but Laenor was seemingly gathering his resolve to say his piece, so I waited.

"I have a request for you." He finally said.

I quirked an eyebrow. "Oh? Do ask."

"Please ask Rhaenyra for her favor before you ride. I'm sure she'd love to be crowned the queen of love and beauty on this momentous day, and she'd be joyful to have you ride with hers." He paused. "I would do that myself if I could, but you know I never jousted before, and I'd rather not shame her."

I nodded carefully. "I'll endeavor to do so, brother."

"That's all I could ask for." He said, rising from his seat. "Once again, I hope for your victory, brother."

He patted my shoulder as he opened the tent flaps and left.

Before the joust, I made my way near the royal box. The tilt wouldn't be for another half an hour, and many participants and onlookers spread through the tourney ground yet, waiting for the king's arrival. I saw where Laenor and Laena were, and I approached them.

Laenor noticed my approach and whispered something to Rhaenyra, who acknowledged me with a smile. They veered to a slightly more quiet corner behind the royal box, which I followed.

"Laenor. Princess." I greeted them. "A fine morn to both of you."

Laenor smiled in amusement, but Rhaenyra was looking straight into my eyes. "Ser Corwyn. A fine morn to you too. May I ask what reason you have for seeking us before the joust?"

"My princess." I said. "Will you let me have the honour of your favor on this joust? I wish for the honour to name you the queen of love and beauty, as you so rightly deserve."

She beamed brightly. "I'd be delighted to, Ser Corwyn."

She produced a handscarf in Targaryen colours, red and black, and knotted it on my right arm.

"I graciously thank you for the honour, my princess. I shan't disappoint you."

"I know, Corwyn."

That being done, we went our separate ways. Laenor and Rhaenyra went to the royal box, while I went to my horse. The Void was put to pasture on my return to Driftmark, and Father gifted this one to me after our return from the Stepstones. A red bay horse I took to name Haireater because he kept trying to eat my hair.

I saw Harry near my horse, tending to his own grey horse.

Harry waved an arm. "Waiting for the king as well?"

"He'll be here soon enough. What word from Ser Steffon?" I asked.

"He agreed to put word of my name before the king. He said he doesn't expect difficulties after my proven record in the Stepstones."

We were silent for a moment after that. It was no surprise that the king would accept him. Despite being younger, Harry was more blooded than many of his knights, living in a time of peace and winning their knighthood in tourneys.

Both of us could be considered veterans, in that regard. A strange thought. I remembered when we were just two green boys playing at knights in the courtyard.

"If you ever tire of being a household knight, go to Deathmaw. I can give you a few acres of land to rule. I have a great need for loyal friends if I ever hope to rule that place."

He snorted. "Maybe after you change the name."

The king made an appearance after that, and we knights took our position as he spoke a short speech to the crowd.

With a raised hand and the blow of a horn, the tourney to celebrate the princess' wedding began.

My first opponent was a Caswell knight whom I felled in three tilts, and the second one was someone whose device I didn't recognize who fell on the first tilt after my lance found its mark on his chest.

With every victory, the crowd cheered my name, which surprised me. I suppose that meant I was considered a knight of at least some renown. Or perhaps they just cheered for Laenor's brother.

My third opponent was Joffrey Lonmouth, my brother's close friend.

He was skilled; that much was obvious, though not quite exceptional. Twice, we broke lances on each other's shields, showering the ground with splinters. On the third, a mistimed block led to him being thrown from his dun horse as my lance struck his shield before he could brace himself.

I spied Laenor stood up in alarm for his friend. An overreaction. The fall was a clean one.

I approached him and dismounted. "You rode well, ser." I said as I offered my hand.

Ser Joffrey merely smiled in return. "You rode better. I see your reputation is well earned, Ser Corwyn."

After I helped him stand, he added, "Good fortune for the rest of the lists. I will cheer for you, my lord."

I nodded as we walked back to the bench.

The joust continued after that. I unhorsed a Tarth knight after breaking two lances, and Ser Lorent Marbrand of the Kingsguard in five lances. A Hayford knight was unhorsed in four tilts next and I defeated Ser Willas Fell of the Kingsguard after breaking six lances in the semifinal.

Harry also did well. Unhorsing five opponents, including Ser Rickard Thorne, before he went against Ser Harwin Strong and was finally unhorsed after breaking seven lances. Ser Harwin proceeded to the semifinals against the seemingly unstoppable Ser Criston, and the Breakbones lost after breaking five lances.

The final tilt was between me and Ser Criston. He was different from the man I remembered. Gone was the bashful young knight who was out of his depth in King's Landing. Now the Lord Commander had a hard and sullen look, and his eyes turned dark whenever they caught mine.

The Lord Commander was resplendent in his polished white armour and immaculate white cape. The crowd cheered our names, as we ambled our horses around the tilt, lances held aloft in salute.

There was no joy in Ser Criston's movement, I realized. No excitement, eagerness, or pride. He simply went through his movements like a puppet being pulled, and I felt more than I saw the anger he radiated.

We readied ourselves on each end of the list, lances couched, and breaths slowed. With the blast or the horn, both of us spurred our horses forward and struck each other.

The lances splintered to pieces as they struck shields, and the crowd cheered louder.

We demanded lances and spurred our horses forward. Once again, the lances broke with two knights still ahorse. The third time went the same. I noted Ser Criston aimed at my lower stomach, but his feint was clumsy, and I blocked it.

The fourth one went differently. Ser Criston aimed at my gorget but committed too early. I slid his lance on my shield and struck back on his breastplate, and he fought hard to remain on the saddle.

Ser Criston was a skilled jouster, I knew. Greater than I, if someone asked me. However, he wasn't so much greater that he could win with such sloppy riding. He rode conservatively on the fifth and sixth tilts, and both lances splintered against shields. On our seventh tilt, his frustration got the better of him, opening a window that I exploited.

My lance struck his diaphragm, and the Lord Commander was unhorsed.

I dismounted and approached where he fell, but he simply rose unhindered. The bitter look he gave me was obvious even when it was hidden under his helmet, and he left as I stood there in silence amidst the cheers of celebration and blaring of horns.

I shook my head and mounted Haireater again. I raised my right arm where Rhaenyra's favor was knotted for all to see. The master of ceremonies brought forth a wreath of seven different flowers in seven different colours on top of a red pillow.

I took the offered crown carefully in my hand and slowly rode to where the royal family was seated.

"Your Grace," I called up to the royal box. "There is only one woman in this world who deserves this crown."

A hush fell down among the crowd, followed by thunderous cheers as I approached the royal box and handed the crown to Rhaenyra's head.

"I would name Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen as the queen of love and beauty!"

Laenor wanted to show Driftmark to Rhaenyra.

Father and Mother opted to stay in King's Landing for another two or three days, so instead, we siblings would return on dragonback. I was riding on Vhagar alongside Laena as Seasmoke and Syrax flew ahead of us.

The journey was calm and very quick. It didn't even take a full day for us to reach Driftmark.

As Vhagar landed noisily before High Tide, we saw Laenor and Rhaenyra already on the ground. Laenor seemingly regaled Rhaenyra with a tale of something, likely the history of High Tide.

Rhaenyra waved at me and my sister and smiled as we approached.

"Your home is very beautiful. I can see the castle is made of the same white stone they use in the Eyrie."

Laena beamed. It was a high praise to be compared to the Eyrie, widely reputed to be among the most beautiful castles in the realm alongside Highgarden.

The talk moved to some other topic afterward, and Laena spoke at length on various things that could be found on Spicetown and High Tide. I shared the tales of what I've been doing in my time here. Rhaenyra listened and interjected from time to time, while Laenor was mostly silent.

After the talks, Laenor took Rhaenyra with him as Laena and I continued to our own chambers.

I heard knocking on my door.

I lifted my eyes from the parchment I read and glanced at the window outside. It was already dark, and the supper was just finished, so it was certainly not a servant reminding me of a meal.

The knockings grew more insistent.

I grumbled and opened the door. I found my brother at the door, looking disheveled and apprehensive.

Why is he here this late?

I gestured for him to enter and closed the door. He sat on my bed as I busied myself, pouring each of us a small cup of my whiskey and giving one to Laenor. He nursed his cup but didn't take a sip. His thoughts were likely somewhere else.

"Do you need something else? I also have almonds and prunes here, or I can ask the servants to fetch something for us."

Laenor shook his head. "No, no. This is fine. Don't call anyone else yet."

Laenor sat in silence for a while, drink remained untouched. I waited for him to start talking about what it was he wanted.

"How long will you stay in Driftmark?" He asked.

"Another month or so, I believe. I still need to make myself present on Deathmaw soon enough, but I'd rather make sure my enterprise here is in safe hands before I can depart."

Laenor nodded hastily. "You can ask Joffrey for help. He has a good head for numbers, and now with Father and most of our household knights at home, he'll have free time."

"If you say so, then I'll discuss it with him on the morrow; see if he's amenable to the idea." And, more importantly, as capable as Laenor claimed. "I appreciate your concern, Brother."

"However," I added as I leaned forward and stared at my brother. "That is not what makes you so afraid to share with me."

He fidgeted under my gaze, his eyes downcast, and his face was fearful.

"I can't do this." He began softly. "I can't be a prince consort to Rhaenyra." He paused again, his face contorted. "Nay, I think... I can't be a husband to her. Or to anyone."

I felt my heart skip a beat. I remembered the first time I saw him and Joffrey and my first impression of them. "Why not?"

He smiled sadly. "You know well what the reason is, Corwyn. You're not stupid, nor do you lack eyes."

I knew. I suspected it, though I held my tongue as I didn't want to talk about it. I never liked to pry about such personal matters.

I grinned, more in an attempt to lighten the atmosphere than actual joy. "So, what's the reason why you say it to me then? Do you wish for me to preach to you about the wrongness and sinfulness of such a life? I'm no septon, but I think I remember some verses about that."

Laenor answered my grin with an equally terrible one. "Feel free to preach to me all you want in the future. However, before that, I beg you to hear me."

Laenor inhaled deeply. When he talked again, his voice was set.

"I want you to father a son with Rhaenyra."

I took a long breath of my own. I didn't know what to expect. Perhaps in the back of my mind, I already knew where this conversation was heading, though I doubted there would be anything that could prepare me for such a request.

"Is it truly impossible for you?"

Laenor shook his head. "I try. The Seven know I do. They know how much I want to repay all our parents' hopes. But I simply can't. It's impossible." Laenor emptied his drink in one gulp. "Father and Mother wished for so long for one of their blood to sit on the Iron Throne, and now that the chance has finally arrived, their son and heir can't do even that much."

Our parents. I pinched my nose. "Do they know?"

"Of me? Gods, I hope not. Mother may suspect, though she never speaks to me about the matter. Father spent so long not at home, I doubt he knows. However, even if he doesn't know now, he'll realize it sooner or later. They'll know."

I clasped my hands and tapped a finger slowly as I felt my heartbeat rise. I need to calm myself. "Perhaps if you told them before Father went on his way to betroth you, we wouldn't be in this situation." Laenor was the oldest son. He should know that he will be betrothed sooner rather than later. In that case, I could just marry Rhaenyra myself, which, while it would feel strange, wouldn't be half as strange as what he was asking me to do now.

"I have no excuse for that. I'm just too scared to tell our parents, so I keep delaying telling them until it comes to this point. However, Father shares some of the blame as well. I' was not even aware of the betrothal until it was finalized!" He rose from his seat and began pacing the room, his face anxious. "Do you know how long I need to gather my courage just to tell you? Can you imagine how difficult it is to do the same to our parents?"

I bit my lip. Once again, Father's habit of keeping things a secret bit us in the rear. This was why clear communication was always a key to success, whether in war or family!

I forcefully dragged my mind back to the matter at hand. "Do you think they'll accept such an arrangement? Our parents, that is."

Laenor nodded his head. "As long as one of their bloods sits on the Iron Throne, I don't think they'll care whether it's yours or mine."

"They're not that callous." I said. They were rather traditional as far as Westeros was concerned, but they also cared about their children. They wouldn't like the deception, but if it was to protect Laenor's honour, then they would do it.

I paused. Could it work? Westeros had no way to conclusively determine a child's parentage other than by appearance, and I looked similar to Laenor. "And Rhaenyra? Will she even accept that? She's your wife."

"I haven't told her, but I doubt she'd object. I was there by her side when you were on the lists, and I saw the glances she sent your way when she thought no one was looking. I believed she'd much prefer you to me."

I was silent. Damn Laenor, he already prepared this speech before.

I didn't know why I was so hesitant. I had no problem with women; I knew that. Rhaenyra was a beautiful woman and the most eligible woman in the realm; I was aware of that too. I never considered the idea of having a relationship with the princess, not truly, but that alone was hardly an issue. The only other reason I could give was that I didn't like the idea of giving my brother horns.

It was irrational, I knew. Laenor gave me his blessings and even spelled out the reason why. But still, no humans were completely rational. How often did a brother ask you to impregnate his wife? What sort of discussion was this?

"Will you do it?" He asked. Hope and desperation were bleeding into his voice in equal measure.

"I think..." I paused, pondering it over once more. This was a dangerous play, something that I would never consider normally in either of my lives. If we were discovered, the scandal would be the least of my problems.

"Provided Rhaenyra herself agrees, I see no reason why I can't..."

Laenor nodded gratefully before hugging me tightly, something that he had almost never done before.

The things we do for family.

She was lying on her back, staring at the ceiling almost absentmindedly. I sat by the bedside, thinking. Trying to keep myself calm.

Rhaenyra agreed with the arrangement. Eagerly, if Laenor was to be believed, but I still couldn't help but feel a last-minute doubt.

"You're truly fine with this?" I asked her.

She smiled, as if remembering a jape. "I told Father a marriage with Laenor wouldn't work, but he insisted. He said how my children would be secure with the inheritance of the Sea Snake." She laughed. "He likes you better, I think; you were his ward. But a king's concern is different. His children's happiness doesn't always rank highly in priority over their wellbeing. Perhaps the vipers in the Red Keep whispered against the match in his ears as well, that Laenor could give more to the table than you."

Rhaenyra shook her head in exasperation.

"If I'm to be the queen, I'll make sure each of my children will be happy."

It's not that easy, I thought. Happiness was always the secondary concern in a marriage. I doubted she would act so carefree when her crown was the one at stake.

"Your children will be born on the wrong side of the blanket. You know that. If someone else knows, I'm sure you can imagine the fallout."

She reached for my hand and grasped it. "No one will know. Besides, why should it matter to them anyway? My children's claims will come from me, not their father. It's not anyone else's concern to decide with whom I lay, and I know who my heart want."

"My princess," I said to her softly. "If that's what you wish."

Author Notes:

I'm terrible at writing romance. I wrote up a sentence of semi-risque content and couldn't even finish that. Hell, I was contemplating scrapping the Rhaenyra's segment entirely, but the transition just felt jarring otherwise.

My next hypothetical fic will hopefully be a popcorn flick, a battle shonen, and nothing but action.

Brandy exists in Tyrosh, though it seems rare everywhere else. Corwyn didn't know, but he's planning to butt in on Tyrosh's monopoly right now.

The last chapter was pretty controversial. I really underestimated readers' investment in the pairing. I think a quarter of all reviews by now were made in response to the last chapter alone. Damn.

Speaking of, some readers actually guessed some of the plot points way back. Congrats to those who guessed it right.

My intrusive thought was to have Corwyn killed by accident on the joust and have the story end here. I have half a mind to write an omake about that, but am too lazy to actually do it.

Another intrusive thought was to write a new, AAR-style fic about an OC house in Dorne whose sigil is a well and whose motto is "well, well, well." I'll put that on possible plot bunny.

Anyway, reviews are always welcome.