The coronation happened nine days later.

The smell in Maegor's Holdfast was so unbearable, that by the second day after Viserys's death, Helaena had already come by to sleep in Rhysaenya's bed. The girl was so anxious, Rhysaenya did not know what she could do to calm her. She kept talking about rats, about those flashes of blue, about a storm and an eye. Nothing could ease her and Rhysaenya was at a loss for seeing her get a good night's sleep.

Ravens had been sent to Oldtown, Casterly Rock, Highgarden, Riverrun– anyone they thought would support Aegon. The annals of the Great Council of 101 were examined. They checked which lords advocated for Viserys over Rhaenys and planned for alliances with whoever had preferred the male claimant over the female. Otto and Karrhys had overseen the execution of any lords who refused to bend the knee to Aegon.

House Stark and their bannermen had spoken for Rhaenys. House Arryn could not be relied upon, as they were kin to Rhaenyra and they were currently ruled by a cousin Lady Jeyne, who would not support Aegon lest her own rights to rule be called into question. To the Green Council, it seemed the greatest danger was Storm's End. The Baratheons had supported Rhaenys and her children at the Great Council, but now Lord Borros ruled, and Alicent herself had decided that this question could not be carried in a raven.

Aemond had been saddled and sent to win the hand of one of Borros Baratheon's daughters. If he managed it, he'd deliver the Stormlands to Aegon as allies. He'd come to Rhysaenya the night before he had to leave, before Helaena had arrived. He fucked her so hard, she almost sobbed loudly in pleasure. He told her that no Baratheon girl would ever make him feel as she did. "For you," he told her, "I'd marry any of them if it made you Queen and kept you safe."

At last, on the tenth day since Viserys's passing, the smell had wafted so far down that many were starting to spread rumors. It was not possible to delay the coronation any longer. The dungeons were full of disloyal men, already reaching capacity. Rhysaenya had been there when Aegon asked his mother, "Am I King or not? If I am King, then crown me and crown my wife as my Queen." So, they planned it.

The bells rang and ravens were sent out everywhere by Maester Orwyle to tell the Realm that Viserys was dead and that Aegon was ascending the Iron Throne. Rhaenyra would hear of it now, surely. The children were to accompany them, Karrhys decided, and after the coronation, Aegon and Rhysaenya would fly on their dragons and give the people something to talk about. The smallfolk already knew and liked her; this would not be difficult.

To manage a ceremony with so many attendees, the Dragonpit was chosen. They were piled together into a carriage once the Silent Sisters had arrived to prepare the King's body. Through the streets as they rode, people calling out in mourning for King Viserys, many already shouting, "Long live King Aegon!" Rhysaenya saw a smile playing on his face. He liked their attention, he liked their admiration. It was more than what he'd been given growing up.

The crown chosen for him was that of Aegon the Conqueror. The night before, Aegon had suffered his first defections– Ser Steffon Darklyn and Ser Erryk Cargyll of the Kingsguard were gone, absconding with a few loyal squires, stewards, guardsmen, and most importantly, the crown that King Viserys had worn, made for the Old King Jaehaerys. In the end, it was probably better that Aegon wear his namesake's crown. But anyone with keen eyes would notice at the ceremony that not all his Kingsguard were there.

"People of King's Landing," announced Otto as the ceremony began. They had raised a platform for them to stand on– the whole of the family save for Aemond and Daeron, followed by the Small Council members. Rhaelyn had chosen for Rhysaenya an emerald gown with an elegant neckline and gorgeous puffed sleeves. Helaena had braided her hair in perfect loops to support the crown that would be placed on her head. Behind her stood her parents, both serious, but watching every movement closely in the crowd for the slightest disturbance.

"Our beloved King, Viserys the Peaceful, is dead," said Otto, though they already knew. "But as his spirit left us, he whispered his final wish– that his firstborn son, Aegon, should succeed him."

Applause broke out after a moment of hesitation. Rhysaenya saw it, sensed it. People were still confused by the news they'd heard. Viserys had never said anything of the succession to the magnitudes since he first named Rhaenyra, how could they simply believe it? But they wanted to, she thought, for the sake of having order and peace. Not that that would last long– war would break out, she knew it. They were prepared for it, though their people weren't.

She looked out towards the entrance of the Dragonpit, where Aegon would be escorted in. The Kingsguard and other members of the City Watch flanked him. He had never looked so regal, standing tall as they marched through the crowd, raising their swords as a passage for him.

Trumpets blared as he walked beneath the line of swords, each pair of opposing guards lowering their swords behind him as he passed. She held her breath, looking back to where her handmaidens were holding her children. She wished they were old enough to witness this moment, to see all this planning come to light. Their father was to be King, it was a wondrous day. All the things she'd been told from her youth, all the suffering that brought her here and turned her into the perfect bride and Queen for him, it was all worth it now.

Aegon walked slowly, she could see him drinking in the power of the moment. "It is your great good fortune and privilege," said Otto, "to be here to witness this: a new day for our city... a new day for our Realm... a new King to lead us."

He looked up at them as he reached the stage, coming to stand beside Rhysaenya. His mother leaned over to kiss the top of his head, guiding him towards the septon that would anoint him. He knelt, bowing his head.

The septon took from his attendant the holy oils. "May the Warrior give him courage." He smeared some oil onto his forehead. "May the Smith lend strength to his sword and shield. May the Father defend him in his need. May the Crone lift her shining lamp and light his way to wisdom."

The oils were set aside. The septon took the iron-and-ruby crown of Aegon the Conqueror from a velvet pillow and offered it to Ser Criston, who placed it upon Aegon's brow, saying, "The crown of the Conqueror, passed down through generations."

Rhysaenya felt tears in her eyes as Ser Criston called, "Let the Seven bear witness: Aegon Targaryen is the true heir to the Iron Throne." Her husband stood, turning to face them. Each one of the Council members and Rhysaenya's parents bowed their head after Ser Criston's example. Queen Alicent made a move once it was Rhysaenya and Helaena's turn to do the same.

"All Hail His Grace, Aegon," shouted the septon as Aegon turned to the multitude, "Second of His Name, King of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm."

The bells began to toll, Ser Criston shouting, "Aegon the King!" The crowd began to clap and cheer for him, many appearing to smile. They liked feeling they were safe, that they had someone to lead them. Aegon seemed to like it, too, the approval he got from them. He unsheathed his new sword– Blackfyre, retrieved from his father, accompanied at his waist by a Valyrian steel dagger the King had always kept at his hip.

Thrusting the sword into the air, Aegon relished in the moment. He spread his arms, the crowd calling for him to live long. As the cheering began to die down, he turned to his mother and nodded his head.

Queen Alicent stepped in front of Rhysaenya, removing from her own brow the crown she'd worn since becoming Queen. She placed it over Rhysaenya's head and leaned over to kiss both her cheeks. She was the first to kneel before her, calling her, "My Queen."

"All Hail Her Grace, Rhysaenya," shouted the septon. "Queen Consort of the Seven Kingdoms!" The people began to clap again, Aegon offering his hand to her and bringing her to stand beside him. He turned her to face the others on the platform, prompting them to each bow their heads at her. For the first time, she saw her father smiling. There were tears in his eyes as he knelt fully for her, bowing his head respectfully.

It felt wonderful to see the people smiling at her, loving her. She had her handmaidens hand them their children, both she and Aegon holding them for all to see. As the excitement died down again, guardsmen escorted them to their mounts. In minutes, they had taken their children into the skies for all to see, Sunfyre and Skyfall glittering gold and blue as they flew thrice around the city.

They landed back in the Dragonpit, piled into a carriage as a new family– husband and wife, King and Queen, their son Jaehaerys now Prince of Dragonstone. Rhysaenya could not stop smiling, as Aegon could not stop kissing her cheek and squeezing her hand. It was with that same smile on her face that she watched Aegon ascend the Iron Throne for the first time once they'd returned to the Red Keep, a scene witnessed by a thousand lords and knights with shouts of support ringing through the hall. He had never seemed so mighty.

"Shh, shh, shh." He had brought her there that night to celebrate, after they'd spent the day moving Rhysaenya into her new quarters within Maegor's Holdfast. Rhysaenya could hardly stay quiet– any of their guards could choose to walk in and see if they were alright. Aegon had her seated on the throne, her legs spread as he kissed between them. She was struggling to cover her mouth with her palm, eyes rolling back. She'd noticed that each sensation was heightened during pregnancy, the same having happened when she was carrying the twins. Gods, Aemond would loathe seeing her like this now.

"Come here, my Queen." She was too limp to move once he'd made her see stars, but he picked her up and turned her around, bending her over the throne. He placed her hands carefully on the armrests, taking care not to make her cut herself. When he drove into her, she cried out in delight. It was wicked to do it, truly sinful and still she did not care. It was every bit of perfect, to have herself bent over the Iron Throne while her King fucked her.

They'd spent a great part of the night there, her favorite moment when he sat the throne and she rode him while facing out at the rest of the room. The way he held her hips, the way he caressed her stomach, it lit up a fire in her and it made her kiss him fiercely once she turned to face him, riding him like the dragon she was becoming. Gods, her love for him burned so strong.

In the morning, they were invited to attend the Small Council, the two arriving as a striking and formidable pair. They were announced for the first time to the lords of the Council, "His Grace, King Aegon," said Ser Criston, "his wife, Her Grace, Queen Rhysaenya."

Movements were made to allow them their space. "Be seated," asked Aegon, only Ser Criston standing. "I have decided to make some changes in the Council. As it is always said, the dragon has three heads, and I must add my third here."

He regarded each of the lords, as if to remember who was who. Rhysaenya imagined he didn't see them as often as he probably should have. "Lord Karrhys," he said, nodding to her father. "We thank you for your support during these times. To bring in the might of the phoenix, I ask you to remain here as my Master of War while we navigate what is to come. Rhaenyra will have a response for us, to be sure."

Her father's eyes glimmered with pride, and he bowed low. "Your Grace, you honor me." Aegon smirked, finding this amusing– he probably had some retort in mind about how it wasn't honor that brought him to the decision, rather the knowledge that the might of the Phoenixfort could not be gainsaid in such times. In the end, he said nothing.

"My Lord Hand." His grandsire seemed to expect the removal from his post, for he blinked slowly up at him. "I wish for your counsel still, but I must say, you were my father's Hand, and that of my great-grandsire Jaehaerys. I will ask you to become our Master of Coin as soon as Ser Tyland completes the task at hand. I will hear your voice still, and you will remain a secondary Hand. But for my chief advisor, I choose my brother... Prince Aemond. I've need of his voice. When he returns from the Stormlands, we will make this change."

That must have been satisfactory for him, for he levied no complaint. "Mother," said Aegon, "I ask you to remain here. Alongside Rhysaenya, I will take advice from my Queen Consort and the former Regent who acted while my father was unwell."

"I will serve you as I served your father," assured Alicent. How could you not, it is what will keep your son being King,thought Rhysaenya. She did not fault her, of course. One day, she would be the Dowager Queen, and she hoped Jaehaerys would still want her advice in the same way.

"That's settled, then," said Aegon with a smirk. "Well, what's all this with my Kingsguard, then? Ser Harrold Westerling deserting us, Ser Steffon Darklyn, Ser Erryk Cargyll. Who've we left?"

"Ser Criston Cole, to be your Lord Commander," replied Otto. "Ser Arryk Cargyll remains loyal to you. Ser Rickard Thorne and Ser Willis Fell, from your father's Kingsguard. But there remain three posts to fill."

"Excellent. I have some lads in mind for that. Onto the next–"

Rhysaenya cleared her throat, prompting him to stop. "Who, exactly, are these lads?" She couldn't imagine just anyoneout here defending Aegon. They had to be the very best.

He blinked at her, as if not having expected her to question him so soon into the reign. She hoped he'd understand she did not do this to make him look bad, rather to protect him. "Some of my friends," he admitted. "They are able knights."

"They are not the best knights, however," she said. "I am not sure who those knights are. But, if you'll indulge me, you have an Ignividus wife. These three posts ought to be filled by knights of my house. You know as well as I that they are the best anywhere."

He considered it, then turned to Lord Karrhys. "I agree with your Queen," he said. "You cannot have friends of yours– green boys– defending you. They will be loyal to you, yes, but Ignividosi soldiers will die and kill for you equally, they will defend you, your wife, and your children to their last breath..."

Her father was looking at her, as if impressed she had brought this up. She knew that he didn't like the idea of a Kingsguard in general– Kings should be able to defend themselves well, and it made no sense for such warriors to be denied the ability to sire children. It was why boys preferred to serve House Ignividus rather than go to the Wall or join the Kingsguard. She had learned the Starks disliked them for this reason– they were making the Night's Watch lose strength. "I have three perfect candidates in mind of the guards I brought with me. I will let you assess them, My King, if it is your wish."

"Good, it will be so. My wife knows them, she will determine if they are suitable and we will name them later today." Aegon tapped his fingers against the table. "What now?"

"As Lord Karrhys recommended," said Otto, "we will..." He seemed not to like saying these words, "preserve the meat of the traitors to be fed to the dragons, once the executions need begin. He and Ser Tyland are predicting a blockade of the Gullet, which will place the city under great strain."

"What steps are being taken to prepare food stores?" asked Rhysaenya. She noticed the way Alicent glanced her way– what she was thinking, she didn't know. "Do we have the means to provide for our people in the near future?"

Otto glanced at Aegon, then at her. "We had prepared some stores, yes, but it will not be enough. Letters are being sent out to my lord nephew at Oldtown and to the Tyrells. We hope that Highgarden may be sympathetic to our cause and send us through the mainland food we may distribute to our people."

"We ought to cement that, somehow," thought Rhysaenya out loud. "Quickly, before any of the Reach houses have it in mind to declare for Rhaenyra. While the Mander is still clear, we ought to ship grain, fruits, and vegetables to Tumbleton for a quick retrieval. We expect Lord Borros to come to our side, but if he does not, we must be prepared for a blockade on land."

"Well said, my Queen," said Lord Jasper, watching her carefully. "The Lord of Highgarden is a boy still in swaddling clothes. Perhaps a betrothal to your daughter, the Princess Jaehaera?"

Rhysaenya glanced at her father, who gave her a slow blink to state that this was alright. She would have other daughters to marry to her nephews. This might be what was most necessary. "Very well," she agreed. "Let the raven be sent."

There came a knock at the door. Ser Criston allowed in one of the maesters, who hurried in to offer Grand Maester Orwyle a scroll. The man opened it quickly, reading and glancing awkwardly at the King. "It is a message from Princess Rhaenyra," he said.

Aegon took the scroll from him, reading silently. He summarized for them, "Well, she's gone and had her own coronation with that crown they stole from us. She's named herself Rhaenyra of House Targaryen, First of Her Name, blah, blah, blah. And that bastard Jace as her Prince of Dragonstone." He snorted, "As if that bastard could be Prince of Dragonstone when it is my son who is Prince of that island she hoards. She says that us, her half-siblings, have been led astray by the counsel of evil men. That if we come to Dragonstone, bend the knee, and ask for forgiveness, she will spare us."

"She will not," said Alicent sharply. "She has to kill you or her 'claim' is not secure. Rest assured that if any of you come face-to-face with her, Daemon will easily remove your heads from your bodies."

"I know that," said Aegon. "My half-sister and my uncle are guilty of high treason. I want them attainted, I want them arrested, and I want them dead."

Everyone glanced around at each other, the only ones in agreement with the 'dead' part appearing to be Karrhys and Rhysaenya, though both knew it was not so simple and could not be an act performed rashly. "The Princess must be made to see that her cause is hopeless," counseled Orwyle. "Brother should not war against sister. Send me to her, that we may talk and reach an amicable accord."

Aegon narrowed his eyes at him. "Are you sympathetic to her cause, Orwyle?" The maester was quick to shake his head. "My son," said Alicent, "there is reason to what he says. Send her your own terms in response to what she has done. I am sure your Queen agrees that this is the best course of action."

Alicent's eyes were drilling into her skull, demanding her to agree. Rhysaenya did agree, but not because the Dowager Queen commanded it. "I do think it is a worthy effort," she relented. "So as to show that you are merciful. She does not need to be dead... Jaehaerys did not kill Rhaena, did he? Let it be tried."

It was decided. They drafted terms that were agreeable for all involved. Aegon would ask that Rhaenyra acknowledge him as King and make obeisance before the Iron Throne. If she did, she could remain in possession of Dragonstone, and the island and castle would pass to Jacaerys upon her death. Lucerys would be recognized as the rightful heir to Driftmark. Aegon and Viserys, her sons by Daemon, would be given places of honor at court, the former as his squire and the latter as his cupbearer. Any lords and knights that conspired with her treason would be given pardons– no one had to die.

So, Orwyle was dispatched quickly across the Blackwater the moment the meeting had ended. Alicent asked Rhysaenya to remain behind for a word. Aegon went ahead, Karrhys offering for him to meet the new knights of his Kingsguard.

"You were quite vocal today," said Alicent, looking up at her– Rhysaenya was glad to be taller than her at this moment, for the Dowager Queen didn't seem all that happy.

"I am always vocal," corrected Rhysaenya calmly. "I was taught to be so always."

"You ought to be... less. It is not a good look for you to speak more than your husband does. Let him have his own ideas."

"I cannot help what ideas he does or does not have. If I've a concern, I shall raise it. I will not hide my strength because of him. I intend to help him be a great King, but it will not happen by diminishing myself."

Alicent didn't seem pleased to hear this. She was picking at her fingers the way Aegon did– Rhysaenya was somehow making her nervous. That only filled her with more power, and she stood straighter, asking, "Is that all?"

"It is," said Alicent quietly. "Your Grace."

That's right, I am Her Grace the Queen now, thought Rhysaenya. When I say it is all, it is all.