Chapter 2

87 AC.

For Zalarys's first nameday, a great feast was made and nobles from all around Westeros arrived at King's Landing.

However, the young Prince was absent, sleeping in his cradle with his dragon egg at his side, which was understandable. He could not be present for the entire day since he was just a baby.

Some nobles were disappointed, wishing to see the youngest child of Prince Baelon and Princess Alyssa, but there was nothing they could do. There were also rumors that the prince wasn't like his brothers, that he was fragile and rather lethargic. Some even said he didn't share the ferocious traits of his parents, but instead took after the gentler members of the family.

However, not everything was that disheartening. Something surprising happened too, and a pleasant one at that, since Princess Maegelle, or now Septa Maegelle, as she had offered herself to the Faith, arrived in King's Landing as well.

It was both to congratulate her sister on having another healthy son and to comfort her over the loss of Prince Aegon. She had also come to soothe her mother's heart. After Maegelle's sister, Princess Daella, passed away, their mother grew quite lonesome and sorrowful. That was why she came every year to pray for her.

Alysanne considered Maegelle her brightest daughter, and late Princess Daella too, calling her older sister her guiding star.

"It truly warms my heart to see you healthy and vigorous, sister. I am certain your youngest will be as ferocious as you are." Maegelle smiled warmly, her hands placed on her lap gracefully, her posture reserved and tone humble.

"Thank you, sister." Alyssa spoke awkwardly, always feeling a bit out of place with her sister, mostly because of how humble and kind she was. They were total opposites. Alyssa was blunt, her tongue biting, a fighter and a fierce dragonrider. Maegelle, on the other hand, was soft-spoken and gentle, compassionate and praying for everyone, no matter how wicked.

At the same time, the gates of the gargantuan hall creaked open, guards slamming their spears down and heralding the arrival of another guest, standing tall and remaining indifferent as their voice echoed across the hall.

"Prince Aemon Targaryen! Prince of Dragonstone! Master of Laws! Lord Justiciar!"

A dashing, towering man with a gentle smile stepped into the hall. He had hair like white gold and eyes as pale as lilacs. He was tall, with an athletic build and broad shoulders, wearing dark armour with a cape flowing onto the floor and trailing behind him. On his armour, he bore the arms of House Targaryen, the three-headed red dragon breathing fire upon the black.

"His Lady Wife, Jocelyn Baratheon!" The guard shouted, his voice booming and reverberating across the hall as he added: "And Princess Rhaenys Targaryen! Our Queen to be!"

Many were dissatisfied with that title, wanting the heir to be male, but since that was the title Queen Alysanne had given her, they could say nothing about it, only whisper to each other.

Alysanne, observing this, leaned back and covered her face with displeasure as Jocelyn and Aemon walked inside, followed by Rhaenys, who was quite a bit older than her cousins. But she quickly composed herself, sighing and looking up with a warm smile.

"My apologies, brother, sister." Aemon looked up at Baelon and Alyssa, smiling faintly. "I am a bit late."

Baelon's eyes widened and he almost jumped from his seat as the two brothers reunited, hugging each other joyfully. "Not at all, I am elated you are here, brother."

"Where is the young scoundrel? Sleeping again?" Aemon grinned, his expression amused as he gave his brother a wink, while Jocelyn was talking with Alyssa.

As for Rhaenys, she was off to play with Viserys and Daemon, as well as the youngest princess, daughter of King Jaehaerys, Gael, the Winter Child.

Baelon smiled sheepishly, scratching the back of his head with a wry smile. "Well, he likes sleeping. At least I do not think he is as irritating as Daemon. The Seven look after me, they know I cannot handle another brat like him."

Aemon patted his shoulder with a sympathetic look, pitying his younger brother. "Well, I am sure he will turn out to be a fine young man, healthy and strong, and as brave as you."

"I hope so." Baelon laughed joyfully, leading his brother to take a seat, and the two began drinking together.

At the same time, Vissera stared at the hall with a bored expression, her cheek resting upon her palm with an irritated look. Despite being so young, no older than seven, she was already sly, her innocent appearance deceptive.

How exhausting. We are celebrating the nameday of Alyssa's ugly bastard. Like mother, like son, I suppose. At least the egg I chose for him will be as ugly as he is. He does not deserve a beautiful dragon.

Now that I think about it... Hmm, there is no guarantee that egg will hatch, is there? Wouldn't that be even more entertaining? Her lips curled up and she covered her mouth, giggling to herself in amusement.

However, her satisfied look faded soon, replaced by a gloomy expression as she let out a deep breath, sinking into her chair. My egg did not hatch... I was denied the pleasure of soaring through the sky... I want one.

Despite mocking everyone in her heart and appearing arrogant, deep down she was a bitter little girl, envious of what others had.

She wished for her parents' recognition and warmth. She wanted a dragon. She wanted fame and she wanted titles. It felt like her heart was a bottomless pit that could never be satisfied, the only solace she could find was throwing more and more into it to at least soothe her aching heart.

Watching smallfolk cheering, dancing and singing outside, lords growing more drunk, eating and drinking like pigs while ladies acted fair and graceful while in reality being hypocritical whores, she felt nothing but disdain.

Staring at the table, she looked around and quickly grasped a bottle of wine, poured it into her cup and put it away instantly so no one would notice. She was not allowed to drink wine, only juice, but then again, when did Vissera ever ask for permission. She would get whatever she wanted.

So she crossed her legs and took a sip. However, she grimaced, finding the taste too bitter, but at the same time she was too stubborn to give up, forcing herself to drink.

"All hail Prince Zalarys!" Some drunk lord shouted, his voice booming as he laughed. Others followed, raising their cups and gulping them down. There was no grace in their movement. Well, she did not expect any less from arrogant pigs.

His brother Baelon was nodding at them in gratitude while Alyssa was drinking with a wild grin splitting her face, her arm over Baelon's shoulders as she sang along to a loose tune.

Zalarys... Right. They named him that. Who gave the boy a name like that? She touched her forehead, trying to recall what Zalarys meant in High Valyrian. After a few seconds of thinking, she sighed with frustration.

Zālagon... and arys... It is a mix of those two, perhaps. Meaning his name translates as: immolate, scorch, incinerate, blister, burn mark? Too many synonyms. It is tiring.

She shook her head, finding herself a bit tipsy while observing the feast with half-lidded, uninterested eyes.

However, she felt someone grab her arm in a rather inconsiderate manner. Looking up, she bristled with displeasure, staring at her sister. "What do you want?"

"Don't be so gloomy, come, come." Alyssa grinned, pulling her to her feet, making her yelp in surprise as she lost her balance, but Alyssa caught her, dragging her towards the other family members and forcing her to sit with them.

Vissera, while young, was definitely not naive. She knew her mother Alysanne had asked for this without a doubt. She huffed, crossing her arms and glaring at her with bitterness while Alysanne let out a soft, exhausted breath.

But the situation did not grow any tenser. Alyssa and Baelon lightened the mood as the family began talking with each other.

"Hmm? Yes, he is too rough." Alyssa rested her head on her arms, her expression a bit sulking and crestfallen.

Jocelyn giggled, covering her mouth with a gentle look as others burst into laughter.

Vissera found herself a bit lost. Just what are those idiots talking about...

Seeing her baffled expression, Jocelyn smiled slyly and pointed at her own chest. "Some babies are a bit rough when you breastfeed them. I got lucky and Rhaenys was more comfortable to take care of."

"Viserys and Daemon weren't this bad." Alyssa groaned, massaging her breasts under the table, not really caring about her image or reputation. Everyone knew how wild she was. "Do you think there is something wrong with him? He is rarely crying, which is already unusual. He is a bit violent, even if he cannot walk. And he is really weak too. Jocelyn, should a child be this weak? Both Viserys and Daemon were strong and energetic children, while Zalarys is more silent, fragile, skinny and lethargic."

Jocelyn's expression softened, not knowing how to answer. Deep down she knew Alyssa's worries were not without merit. If a child, an infant at that, had such traits... She bit her lower lip. He might die... Like Aegon.

Luckily, Maegelle came in and interrupted the depressing conversation between the ladies, smiling gently at Alyssa and patting her back softly. "The Mother will protect him. She will not allow the Stranger to take another child. I will pray for Zalarys as well."

Alyssa sighed, nodding to her and gulping down another cup of wine with a stubborn look, trying to shake off her anxiety.

As for Vissera... Oh? That doesn't sound too bad. She took a sip of her juice, leaving the cup of wine behind, and hid her smile.

But before anyone could say another word, the towering gates of the hall opened and a young woman in her twenties rushed to Alyssa's side, her face drained of colour and filled with dread.

"P-Princess... The young Prince's egg..." She swallowed, her voice trembling as her body shook, as if she had witnessed something so abominable and wretched that she was left traumatised. "His egg has already hatched!"