𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐞𝐚 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬 || Aemond Targaryen

Chapter Four

The morning sun did little to warm the chill that had settled over Driftmark following the tumultuous events of the previous day. As I walked toward the throne room, each step felt like a march toward an unknown destiny, my heart heavy with a mix of dread and defiance. The incident with Aemond had fractured something fundamental, and the air was thick with the weight of unspoken threats and shattered allegiances.

Upon entering the throne room, the sight that greeted me was a tableau of power: Queen Alicent, flanked by Otto Hightower, her children by her side. I bowed, the gesture feeling more like a concession to protocol than respect. My parents stood with an air of anticipation, and I joined them, trying to mask the turmoil that churned within.

"What have we been summoned for, Your Grace?" Princess Rhaenys's voice broke the tense silence, her tone laced with a weariness that spoke of battles fought both in the open and in the shadows.

It was Otto Hightower who stepped forward, his presence commanding despite the shadows that clung to his robes. "The King Viserys wishes to betroth your daughter, Lady Lyanna, to Prince Aemond," he announced, his voice echoing with a gravity that seemed to pull the very air tighter around us.

The room seemed to tilt, the words striking me with the force of a physical blow. Marry Aemond? The thought was anathema, a sentence to a life I could not, would not, accept. I had always known my path might be chosen for me, but this? This was beyond anything I had feared.

I found my voice, though it sounded far away, even to my own ears. "You wish to bind me to him? After everything? Why?" My gaze flitted between my parents, seeking an anchor in the storm that Otto Hightower's words had conjured.

Otto's response was measured, his eyes revealing nothing of the thoughts behind them. "The King believes, and I concur, that this union could serve as a bridge between our houses, a step toward healing the rift that has grown too wide. Lady Lyanna, We can once again unite our great houses once more."

"I must have misheard," Father said, his voice laced with disbelief as he turned towards the Hand.

"The Hand speaks the truth, Lord Corlys. My husband, the king, believes this marriage will cement the alliance between our houses. To persuade you, he's offering two new fleets," Queen Alicent clarified, her gaze steady.

I couldn't contain my dismay. "Father, you've always promised I'd have a say in my own marriage," I protested, feeling a deep sense of betrayal. Despite my secret affections for Aemond, born out of a complex web of childhood rivalry and clandestine admiration, the notion of marrying without choice was unthinkable. I was only ten, for the gods' sake, hardly old enough to consider marriage, much less to someone I had such a tumultuous history with.

"Lyanna, we cannot simply refuse the king," Mother interjected, her voice a mixture of resignation and gentle reprimand. "This is how things are done."

"But I'm only ten, Mother! Too young for marriage," I countered desperately, my voice tinged with panic. " Laenor has barely been gone a day, and now this?" My words trailed off into a whisper, the weight of the situation pressing down on me.

"The marriage will take place a month after your thirteenth nameday, should Lord Corlys consent," the Hand informed us, his tone leaving no room for argument. Mother hesitated, her concern for me warring with her sense of duty.

Father finally spoke, his voice resolute. "She will marry the prince."

With that declaration, the matter seemed settled, leaving a heavy silence in its wake. "We shall entrust the wedding arrangements to Queen Alicent and Lady Lyanna," Ser Otto Hightower concluded, his party making their way out.

As they departed, I felt a cold dread settle over me. My parents retired to their chambers, leaving me alone with my thoughts. In that moment, I felt as if my very agency had been stripped away, my future decided without my consent. 

In the quiet throne room, only Prince Aemond and Lady Lyanna were present. Lyanna moved to retrieve a small, carefully chosen box—a token she'd persuaded her mother to let her present to Aemond.

"What's this, Lyanna?" Aemond's curiosity piqued as he lifted the lid. Nestled inside was a gleaming sapphire.

"It's meant for your eye, once it's healed and the stitches are gone."

"I appreciate this, truly," Aemond said, a note of genuine surprise in his voice.

"Think nothing of it, Cyclops," Lyanna teased, her grin wide and mischievous.

In turn, Aemond revealed his own offering: a Valyrian steel dagger, its craftsmanship exquisite. Knowing of Lyanna's fondness for sparring, the king had suggested this as a fitting gift from Aemond to his betrothed.

"This is magnificent, my prince. Thank you," Lyanna said, her eyes reflecting the dagger's sheen.

"Anytime snake " Aemond replied, his smile lingering as he exited.

Lyanna held onto a sliver of hope that this marriage might indeed be harmonious. Yet, she couldn't help but fret over the potential backlash from Princess Rhaenyra and Prince Daemon. Their disdain for the greens was no secret, and this union could further complicate the already tangled web of succession—especially if Aemond and she were to continue the Targaryen lineage, intensifying the claims to the throne

In their chambers on Dragonstone, Prince Daemon and Princess Rhaenyra engaged in a tense discussion about the looming threat of Lyanna's influence.

"If I am to inherit the Iron Throne, she will block my way," Princess Rhaenyra asserted, her tone resolute.

Daemon's brows furrowed as he considered the implications. "And what of Lyanna? We've seen what she's capable of. A true dragon on the green side could cause our downfall. You know the tales, Rhaenyra. Only the true dragon can tame Meraxes."

"If Lyanna gains power, she could eliminate any challenge to my succession. With her and Alicent's son laying claim to the two largest dragons..." Rhaenyra's voice trailed off, her concern evident.

"Let's pray that Meraxes deals with this rider as she did the last," Daemon remarked grimly, a shadow of worry crossing his features.