The atmosphere in the grand hall was electric. The nobles, still abuzz from Vensalia's unexpected and mesmerizing performance, were all whispering to one another. The music had finally come to a lull, but the echoes of her song and the memory of her graceful, powerful movements still hung in the air. Vensalia had been the center of attention, and despite the sharp, disapproving gaze of some, there was no denying the effect she had on the room. She stood, her figure still commanding the floor as the crowd slowly returned to their quieter murmurs.

Aemond, whose heart had been racing throughout the dance and song, watched her with wide eyes as she gracefully returned to the table where he sat, his usual stoic demeanor melting away into something far more vulnerable. The mix of admiration, affection, and something deeper glinted in his blue eyes as he stared at her, still lost in the beauty of her performance. He had never seen anything like it, and it had captivated him in a way that made everything else feel irrelevant.

At the royal table where Helaena sat, her soft smile betraying the inner joy she felt watching her brother and Vensalia interact. She had always been the quiet observer, a silent presence in the background of her family's drama, but tonight, she couldn't help but feel a warmth in her heart. Aemond, her younger brother, had always been intense, guarded, and often distant, but Vensalia seemed to bring something out of him that Helaena hadn't seen in a long time. It was as if the walls he'd built around himself had crumbled, even just a little.

For a brief moment, Helaena allowed herself to imagine what it would be like to join them, to stand by Vensalia's side and share in the newfound connection her brother seemed to be developing. But as she glanced at her mother's face, the hard set of Alicent's jaw and the narrowed eyes, Helaena's resolve quickly solidified. She would not intrude. Not now. The tension that had been building up in the room, centered around her mother, was palpable. Alicent's glare toward Vensalia had not softened since the performance, and Helaena, despite her desire to be a part of the budding closeness between Aemond and Vensalia, chose to remain seated, not wanting to fuel the flames of her mother's anger.

Aegon, who had been nursing a drink throughout the night, was leaning back in his seat, his eyes fixed on Vensalia. He was still somewhat tipsy, but the flush on his face had little to do with alcohol and everything to do with the sight of her. His mouth hung slightly open, an almost comical look of admiration and curiosity written across his features. His gaze followed every movement she made, unable to tear his eyes away from the woman who had so effortlessly stolen the spotlight from everyone else in the room. She had sung like an angel, and in her dance, she had wielded her chain scythe with a fluidity and confidence that was nothing short of mesmerizing.

"By the gods," Aegon murmured under his breath, not quite realizing the words escaped his lips. "She's... incredible."

Beside him, Lucerys and Jacaerys exchanged a knowing glance, though they didn't voice their thoughts. Jacaerys, in particular, found himself feeling a flutter in his chest, the same confusion and sense of awe stirring within him despite his previous wariness toward Vensalia. He hadn't trusted her when she first arrived, her presence too mysterious, her origins too unclear. Yet now, as he watched her interact with Aemond, as he heard the soft melody of her voice echo in his mind, something in him shifted. The distrust he had harbored toward her seemed to wane, if only for a moment, and in its place was a mixture of admiration and something more complicated.

His heart jumped in his chest when their eyes met briefly from across the room, and he quickly averted his gaze, hoping no one had noticed the shift in his demeanor. It was a momentary lapse, he told himself. It was nothing more than fleeting curiosity. He had to remain vigilant. Yet, for the first time in a long while, his own conflicting emotions made him wonder if his feelings about Vensalia might be more complicated than he'd realized.

Rhaenyra, noticing her eldest son's distracted expression, narrowed her eyes slightly. She hadn't missed the way Jacaerys was staring at Vensalia, his brow furrowing in an odd combination of wariness and fascination. She felt an immediate twinge of discomfort, though she masked it quickly. It wasn't the first time Jacaerys had shown interest in someone outside their immediate circle, but this time, something felt different. There was something about Vensalia that made her uneasy, a sense of otherness that had unsettled her from the very beginning.

But what truly caught her attention was the growing tension between Alicent and Vensalia. Alicent's gaze had not left the young woman since the dance. The Queen's lips were tightly pressed together, her eyes flickering with a barely contained frustration. Rhaenyra could see that Alicent was seething beneath the surface, and it only added fuel to her growing concern. She hadn't seen her so consumed by such jealousy and rage in years. It was unsettling. What was it about Vensalia that set Alicent off so completely?

Alicent, for her part, barely noticed Aegon's open admiration toward Vensalia. She was too absorbed in her own thoughts, in her plotting, to pay much attention to her son. Her eyes were cold, calculating, as she observed Vensalia from across the room. The young woman had become an enigma to her-someone who needed to be removed, someone who threatened the stability of her family. Alicent's mind raced, trying to figure out her next move. She had already seen the effect Vensalia had on Aemond, and it infuriated her. Aemond was her son, her responsibility, and this woman-this mysterious, powerful woman-was not going to tear her family apart.

She had no idea yet how to handle Vensalia, but Alicent knew one thing for sure: Vensalia would not be allowed to stay in King's Landing much longer. The power she wielded-both the literal and the subtle influence she had over Aemond-was something Alicent could not allow to grow unchecked. She had to make sure that no one, especially Aemond, would allow themselves to be so easily captivated by Vensalia's charms.

Alicent's thoughts were interrupted when she noticed Aegon staring at Vensalia, his mouth hanging open as though mesmerized. The sight of her son's infatuation only added to her anger. She clenched her jaw tightly and turned her attention back to the woman who had sparked this entire storm. Vensalia had a plan, Alicent knew that much. But so did she. And she would make sure her plan succeeded.

Meanwhile, Aemond, completely oblivious to the undercurrents of tension swirling around him, was still staring at Vensalia as though she were the only person in the room. She had left a mark on him, and now, as she returned to her seat beside him, he couldn't help but look at her with admiration and affection. She had won his heart, not just with her beauty, but with her talent, her mysteriousness, and the way she seemed to understand him better than anyone ever had. Her song still echoed in his ears, and it was all he could do to keep his gaze from lingering too long.

He didn't notice the way his family watched him, nor did he care. At that moment, the only thing that mattered was the woman beside him.

Aemond, finally pulling himself together, turned to Vensalia with a small smile. "You were... incredible," he said, his voice low but filled with admiration.

Vensalia smiled back, her eyes twinkling. "Thank you, Aemond. But it was all for you," she said, her tone playful but warm.

Her words made his heart flutter again. They had already begun to build something-something that, despite the chaos around them, felt as though it could be real.

And as the celebration continued, with the nobles whispering and gossiping around them, Vensalia and Aemond remained blissfully unaware of the storm that was steadily brewing in the shadows.

---

The council room was heavy with tension as the discussions of the day settled into silence, the weight of the decision hanging in the air. Viserys sat at the head of the long wooden table, his eyes tired and bloodshot, the lines on his face deepening with the burden of his rule. Otto sat nearby, ever the opportunist, a hawk watching for any chance to manipulate the situation to his advantage. Alicent, visibly agitated, paced back and forth in front of the table, her eyes wild with a fear she couldn't suppress.

"It's madness, Viserys! We cannot continue to let her roam free in the Red Keep," Alicent's voice was sharp, edged with an edge of hysteria. She had tried to remain composed, but it was no use anymore. The whispers of the court were growing louder, the rumors of Vensalia is spreading like wildfire. Her suspicions had been building ever since Vensalia first appeared at the feast, and now, with the tension rising each day, she could no longer keep silent.

"She is a witch! A threat to us all. I've seen it in her eyes-the darkness that lingers there, the strange power she wields," Alicent exclaimed, her hands clenched in frustration. Her breath was shallow, eyes wide as she stared directly at Viserys, willing him to see the danger she believed was right before them.

Viserys looked torn, the crown heavy on his brow, his weary eyes flickering between his wife and his hand. His heart was waging a war against his mind, the tug of duty pulling him toward Alicent's words and the weight of the prophecy that had been whispered to him. He could not dismiss what he had seen in his dreams, the future his grandfather had spoken of. He had always believed in the importance of the prophecy, and yet, now his wife's fear seemed impossible to ignore.

"Do you truly believe she means harm to us?" Viserys asked, his voice quieter than he intended, the weariness laced in every syllable. His gaze wandered to Otto, seeking counsel, but his mind was divided. There was a growing unease inside him that he could not quell. He had witnessed the strange power Vensalia carried, her ability to manipulate shadows. But the prophecy... it kept calling him back, whispering in his mind, urging him to remember the promises of the past.

Otto's eyes gleamed with quiet calculation as he leaned forward slightly, his voice low but sure. "Alicent is right, Your Grace," he said smoothly, his words a calculated move to push Viserys closer to his daughter's side. "The girl is no ordinary noblewoman. She is not of our blood, and no one knows where she comes from. The way she manipulates Aemond... it is clear that she has some unnatural influence over him. We must take action before it is too late."

Alicent's eyes flashed with a mix of frustration and desperation as she grasped the edge of the table for support. "You see it, don't you, Viserys? She has Aemond in her grip. He is lost to her, as if under some spell. The prophecy may be important, but I refuse to let us be consumed by this foreign witch who will bring ruin upon our family!"

Viserys winced, the accusation burning in his chest. "She is not a witch, Alicent," he murmured softly, his voice growing thick with emotion. "She is... something else, yes. But I do not know if she means us harm."

"Your Grace, please listen to your wife," Otto urged, leaning forward to further cement his argument. "Alicent's instincts are sharp. She has always been cautious, and she has seen things we cannot ignore. Aemond's strange behavior, his apparent obsession with her-this is not normal. We cannot allow her to continue manipulating him. We cannot allow her to grow stronger."

Viserys rubbed his temple, a headache beginning to form as his thoughts collided. His gaze fell on Alicent, her face pale but fierce with conviction, and then back to Otto, whose words always seemed to carry weight, yet who was always so eager to stir the pot for his own gain. There was a moment of silence, a deep breath he took in to steady his mind.

"I... I cannot ignore the prophecy," Viserys whispered, his voice heavy with the burden of his beliefs. "I've seen her in my dreams, Alicent. The woman who would change everything, the one who could bring balance to our house. I cannot cast her aside just because of fear."

Alicent's eyes filled with exasperation, and her voice shook with frustration as she took a step toward him. "Viserys, please! This is not about a prophecy or dreams. This is about the safety of our family. The danger is real, and I will not stand by and watch her tear us apart. You can't keep letting these hallucinations cloud your judgment!" Her breath came fast, and her words rushed out in a way that showed just how deeply the anxiety over Vensalia had dug into her mind.

Viserys looked at her, his expression one of both pain and confusion. He could hear the edge in her voice, but he couldn't fully dismiss the pull of what he had been told, what his grandfather had warned him about. He had been raised with the teachings of prophecy, and deep down, he wondered if he had missed something in his haste to protect his family.

"Do you think I do not want to protect our family, Alicent?" Viserys finally spoke, his voice breaking under the weight of his conflict. "I want nothing more than to ensure the safety of our children, of all of us. But there are forces at work here that I cannot fully understand, and I cannot dismiss them because they make you uncomfortable."

Alicent's eyes narrowed, her fingers trembling as she fought to keep her composure. "You're letting her get inside your head," she hissed, a dangerous edge creeping into her voice. "She is already poisoning Aemond's mind, and if we do not act now, it will be too late."

Otto cleared his throat, the subtle sound a reminder that the discussion was still open, still teetering on the edge of a precipice. "Alicent is not wrong, Your Grace," he interjected. "We must act swiftly. There are too many unknowns surrounding this woman. If she truly possesses magic, if she truly has designs on your son, we must eliminate her before she can enact whatever plans she is formulating."

Viserys' eyes flickered with doubt, but the exhaustion of being torn between these two forces-his family's safety and the prophecy-was becoming unbearable. He glanced at his wife, her expression one of desperation, and then to Otto, who had already positioned himself as a voice of reason.

"I will not... make any rash decisions," Viserys said quietly, the weight of his words falling heavily in the room. His gaze turned to Alicent, his voice strained. "But we will not act out of fear alone. We will observe her, watch her closely, and wait. If she truly is a threat, I will know."

Alicent's eyes flashed with frustration, her breath coming in sharp bursts. "And if she's already destroyed us by then, Viserys?" she snapped, her voice rising. "What will you do when it's too late?"

Viserys looked at his wife with sadness in his eyes, a deep weariness settling into his bones. "Then I will face the consequences of my choices," he said softly, his voice laced with a mix of finality and resignation. He wasn't sure if he truly believed what he was saying, but it was all he could offer her in that moment.

Alicent stood still, her face pale, eyes burning with emotion. For a long moment, there was no sound in the room except for the soft rustle of their breath, the weight of the moment pressing down on them all. Finally, Alicent broke the silence, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I will not stay quiet," she said with quiet fury. "I will not stand by and let that witch destroy everything we've worked for." And with that, she turned and left the room, her footsteps echoing against the stone as she stormed out.

Viserys sat in silence, his face drawn with exhaustion. Otto watched his daughter's retreating figure with a knowing look, his hand tightening around the arm of his chair. He knew it wasn't over. The battle for Vensalia's future was far from finished, and in the coming days, it would only escalate.

The king exhaled slowly, his gaze drifting to the empty space where his wife had stood moments before. He could hear her words echoing in his mind, but all he could do was wait. He was caught between duty and prophecy, between love for his family and the strange allure of the unknown woman who had come to change everything.

And so, the waiting began.

---

The sun had barely begun to rise, its faint light casting a soft glow over the Red Keep as the morning unfolded in its usual quietness. Yet inside the council room, the atmosphere was anything but serene. The large chamber, with its stone walls and grand table, felt heavier than usual, as if a storm was building up just beneath the surface.

Viserys sat at the head of the table, his face pale, his tired eyes casting glances over the gathered members of the small council. He looked drained, caught between the lingering remnants of his hopes and the rising sense of fear and doubt that his wife, Alicent, had planted in him. Her worry, her anger, and the way she spoke of Vensalia had stirred something deep within him-a sense of dread he couldn't ignore. But there was also the prophecy, the dream that still weighed heavily on his mind, a dream of the prince who would unite the blood of House Targaryen and bring forth a new age. Vensalia had appeared in his dream, a part of his vision that he couldn't dismiss, no matter how much the reality of her presence unsettled him.

Alicent, standing nearby, was tense, her arms crossed over her chest, her posture rigid. She had already spoken her mind a hundred times, but now, with the tension between her and Viserys palpable, she was beginning to lose patience.

"This is madness," Alicent said, her voice rising in frustration. "You cannot ignore the danger she poses, Viserys. Vensalia is no ordinary woman-she is a witch, a sorceress! I am telling you, she will bring ruin upon us all!"

Her words were sharp, each syllable filled with the weight of her fear and suspicion. Viserys didn't respond immediately. His eyes darted between Alicent and the other members of the council, his mind still grappling with the conflict that gnawed at him. He didn't want to believe it, but Alicent's persistence made it hard to ignore the growing unease in his chest.

"Alicent, please," Viserys finally spoke, his voice weary. "I know your fears, but we don't know enough about her to pass judgment. She was brought here by Aemond, and there's no evidence that she is any danger to us."

Alicent's eyes flared with disbelief. "There's no evidence?" she repeated, her voice tight with anger. "Viserys, she is dangerous. I can feel it. She has power, dark power, and that's enough. I've seen the way she manipulates Aemond. She has him under her spell. She's already turning him against us!"

Viserys looked at her with a sad, almost resigned expression. He had heard this argument a hundred times, and while he understood Alicent's concerns, he also couldn't shake the memory of the vision he had seen in his dreams. Vensalia's face, her eyes burning with a strange intensity, had been a part of the prophecy. Was she truly the danger that Alicent claimed, or was there more to her than met the eye?

He turned his gaze to Aemond, who had been standing in silence, his posture rigid, his eyes focused on the ground. Viserys had called him here to ask about his feelings toward Vensalia. He knew that Aemond had developed an attachment to the strange woman, but the depth of it, the intensity, was still something Viserys had not fully understood.

"Aemond," Viserys called softly, his voice carrying through the room.

Aemond's head snapped up, his sharp gaze meeting his father's. His usual stoic demeanor softened when his father's eyes found his, a quiet understanding between them.

"Yes, Father?" Aemond responded, though his voice betrayed a flicker of uncertainty.

Viserys gestured for him to sit. "I wanted to speak with you. About Vensalia. Tell me, Aemond-how do you feel about her?"

The question hung in the air for a moment, and Aemond's eyes flickered with hesitation. He glanced over at Alicent, whose eyes narrowed in a mix of anger and suspicion. She had warned him time and again about the dangers of Vensalia, but Aemond had grown beyond her warnings. The connection he felt to Vensalia, the warmth, the understanding-it was unlike anything he had ever experienced before. He could feel the truth of it, a truth that his heart had already accepted.

"I... I love her," Aemond confessed, his voice steady, though the words felt strange on his tongue. "I care for her more than I ever thought possible. When I'm with her, I feel like... like I'm home. There's nothing about her that scares me, nothing about her that makes me doubt her."

His voice was firm, and yet there was a vulnerability in it that made Alicent's face twist in disdain. She shot a glance at Viserys, her expression full of accusation, as if to say, Look at what she's done to him. Aemond, the prince who had once been so focused on his duty, on his family, now spoke as though his life revolved around this strange, mysterious woman.

"Aemond," Alicent interjected, her voice thick with frustration. "You're being bewitched. She has cast some sort of spell on you. I have seen it in your eyes-the way you look at her. It's unnatural, and it's dangerous. You can't see it, can you? You're too blinded by your feelings to understand the harm she's causing."

Aemond's gaze snapped to Alicent, his jaw tightening. "That's not true," he said, the words laced with a coldness that surprised even him. "You don't understand her. You don't understand what I feel when I'm with her."

Alicent's face flushed with anger. "I understand perfectly, Aemond. She has you under her control. I warned you-she's a witch, a sorceress. Do you think she has no agenda? Do you think she is here out of the goodness of her heart?"

Aemond's eyes burned with a mixture of defiance and hurt. "I don't care what you think. I know what I feel, and I know that Vensalia is not a threat to us. She has done nothing but be kind to me, and I'm not going to let you poison my mind with your paranoia."

Viserys remained silent, watching the exchange unfold. He could see the deep divide between his wife and son, the chasm growing wider with each passing word. The tension in the room was palpable, and it seemed like no amount of reasoning would bridge the gap between them.

Alicent's voice shook with a combination of anger and fear. "She has bewitched you, Aemond. I see it clearly now. And you're too lost in your feelings to even realize it. You have to open your eyes and see her for what she truly is."

Aemond stood up, his movements sharp and deliberate. "I see her for who she is. And I will not let you speak of her that way. You're wrong, Mother."

The words stung, but Aemond didn't care. He was tired of being torn between the love he felt for Vensalia and the doubts that his mother's warnings planted in his mind. He had made his choice. And Vensalia-her strength, her beauty, her presence-was something he would not turn away from, no matter the consequences.

Viserys, sensing the breaking point, finally spoke up, his voice weary. "Enough, Alicent. Aemond has made his feelings clear, and we will not force him to turn away from what he believes. We have to wait and see what happens. There's more to this than we understand."

Alicent's eyes blazed with frustration, but she knew she had lost this battle. For now, at least. "I don't trust her, Viserys. And I don't trust him when he's with her."

Aemond turned away from his mother, his gaze returning to Viserys. He didn't need anyone's approval, especially not from the woman who had tried to control every part of his life. He loved Vensalia, and nothing would change that.

With a deep breath, Viserys leaned back in his chair, his hands clasped in front of him. "We will see how this plays out," he murmured, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "But for now, we move forward."

The tension in the room remained, thick and suffocating, as Aemond stood resolute in his feelings, and Alicent simmered with resentment. Viserys, torn between his son's confession and his wife's fears, could only hope that time would reveal the truth.