Daenys felt that everyone was upset with her.

There was too much silence for her tastes, the few mornings that came after. Rhaenyra and Daemon were avoiding her like the plague. The Small Council meetings were colder than ever with both Otto and Rhaenyra not looking her way. Daenys felt she'd been as honest as she could and should be, but no one seemed to understand that.

Then, one day, she hadn't seen Daemon at all in the morning. Normally, she passed him at a distance when making her way to the Small Council chambers. This day, he was notably absent. She wondered if he'd gone out to fly, or if perhaps he'd left without a trace, tired of her silence.

It surprised her more when a member of the Kingsguard came to her apartments, stating an urgent summons from the King. Confused, she left her children with her handmaidens and made immediately for Viserys's room, where he leaned over a chair, distressed, still in his night clothes.

"What is it?" she asked, knowing her brother's disappointment only ever showed this way with one person in particular. "What has he done now?"

"You were right about Otto Hightower," said Viserys, strained. "I was too weak to see it."

That shocked her. "What has he done? What do you mean?"

"He truly is so sick with ambition to have his blood on the throne, that he would have my daughter stalked and aim to destroy her reputation." He sighed, rubbing his forehead. "This must be how our grandsire felt, learning of Saera's own exploits. Of Viserra... gods be good."

He was beginning to alarm her. "What happened to Rhaenyra?" she asked immediately. "By all the gods, speak it plainly, Viserys!"

"Otto told me that Daemon and Rhaenyra were seen together in the bowels of a pleasure den... coupling. He said that several servants admitted to seeing her creeping through the gates of King's Landing disguised as a page during the hour of the owl."

Gods be good indeed. "Oh, Viserys." Daenys felt some guilt on her part– perhaps she'd pushed Rhaenyra too hard and encouraged her to act out. "Well, if the only witnesses are servants... we'll pay them well for their silence– Rhaenyra could have simply snuck out to explore the city, who can know? As for whoever saw them in a pleasure den... I'll find them and kill them. I was never close with Mysaria, but I know she lingers in King's Landing. If anyone can help me, she can."

"And what of Daemon?"

Unsteadily, she told him what Daemon had tried to do to her. "If it is true, that he has defiled Rhaenyra, I will make him a eunuch," said Daenys.

"You'll not see him," said Viserys. "I will deal with Daemon. I'll not have him anywhere near you or Rhaenyra again. Why... if it is true, why would he... I thought he always cared for you most. We both..." He turned away. "Why Rhaenyra?"

"I don't know. Perhaps I upset him so much he chose to act out this way. He's always claimed he wants to be loved by us unconditionally, yet time and again he acts in a way that hurts the family. He's always wanted me to revere him and abide by him... perhaps he finally thought to find an easier target. I've known my worth and have never loved him fully, but perhaps he saw a lack of confidence in Rhaenyra, a lack of resistance, even. She is more innocent and capable of loving him despite his flaws, whereas I always saw him for what he was... truly, we both know what Daemon's ideal world is, Viserys. Him, on the Iron Throne. Me seated on his lap with a babe in my belly. You as his Hand. Otto's head on a spike. He couldn't have me, and so... he tried to have Rhaenyra. She's always admired him, that... is true."

Even more regrettably, she told him of her conversation with Rhaenyra. It hurt him as well to think of Daenys having to tell her such things, but he was more capable of understanding the importance. He affirmed Rhaenyra as his heir every single day, yet still there was doubt. All the same, Rhaenyra was not taking her duty seriously. If Daemon had taken advantage of her, Viserys would not be able to stop Daenys from killing him.

But, if Otto's informer was right, if Rhaenyra had been in there coupling willingly... then that was not right, not for the heir, not for a girl already in a difficult position simply because she didn't have a cock. It was unfair that she had to behave differently than any boy her age would have, but it was a trial to be faced, and a sacrifice to be made. Her path would be harder and if she wanted to walk it, she had to do everything not to worsen her image. This could make things substantially worse.

"What are you going to do about Rhaenyra?" asked Daenys after he'd been silent for awhile. "About Daemon, about Otto?"

"I don't know," he admitted. "I don't know about any of it. Alicent was here, she overheard... I presume she went to speak with Rhaenyra."

This took her aback. "Alicent was here?" Viserys flushed, as though he'd revealed something she ought not know. "I told you... not to couple with her anymore. You've sired two children on her already, any more and you make things worse for Rhaenyra. Now that you've realized the truth about Otto, how could you play further into it? If Rhaenyra abandons her duty, if she tells you she doesn't want the burden anymore, even then you have enough heirs to deal with."

"Do not chastise me, Daenys." He scowled. "This is all too much for a single day. If you wish to help me, keep your husband and children in your apartments until I've sorted out the matter. I have enough on my hands with Daemon and Rhaenyra, don't make me have to deal with you off killing someone."

She gave him a mocking bow. "As you wish, Your Grace." Let him drown in the conflict, that was no longer her concern.

She ranted about the situation to Rolf, given they were stuck inside and he would never breathe anything to a living soul so long as he had air in his lungs. None of it made any sense to her, yet it had Daemon's malicious little mind and Rhaenyra's stubborn nature written all over it. Gods, she didn't want it to be true, yet she doubted it wasn't.

Viserys came to speak with her before she'd gone to bed. He'd discussed the situation with Rhaenyra, who had not exactly denied the accusations, despite Alicent having been assured by her that she was still a maiden, and had only gone drinking with Daemon. Strangely enough, Daemon himself confessed as well and insisted on taking Rhaenyra to wife 'as she was.' Viserys had banished him to the Vale instead, forced Rhaenyra into a betrothal with Laenor, sent Grand Maester Mellos with a tansy tea for Rhaenyra, and even dismissed Otto Hightower as Hand, naming Lord Lyonel Strong in his stead. Daenys was surprised to find herself proud of her brother, though she worried this was not truly solving the problem. Maybe they should have staged an 'accident' for Otto on the Rose Road.

She'd known for a long time that Viserys's health had begun to fail him, but she didn't think she'd seen him so ill until now. The circles under his eyes were deep and dark, his limbs shook, and he grew dizzy with anger. She'd helped him sit down and called for a tea to soothe him. He'd declined it.

It was left to her to hold the castle together for the coming weeks. While Viserys arranged the trip to Driftmark, it fell onto Daenys to hold the Council in his stead. Daemon had been seen leaving on Caraxes and had not returned since, though she didn't know if he'd actually go to the Vale. She'd tried to speak with Rhaenyra before her departure to Driftmark, but the girl had been upset enough to avoid her.

It was Daenys who dismissed Otto personally, once he'd had enough time to pack his things. In Viserys's place, she escorted him through pouring rain to the gates of the Red Keep, neither speaking until at last Otto said, "It seems your wish has been granted."

"I wish I could gloat, but I cannot," said Daenys sharply. "You go on your way. You got what you wanted, Otto. You have grandchildren who are Targaryens. Be content with that and do in Oldtown as you will."

If she'd still loved him, watching him go would have hurt her deeply. She would have cried. If she'd married him, she'd be going to live at Oldtown at his side. Now, she felt only satisfaction and still contempt, watching his saddled horse wait for him to mount. This was the first time she'd been alone with him since their last argument, and it brought her no joy to have memories of the past rushing up to her.

"I will say only this," said Otto as he slid on his gloves. "Daemon has proven how easily he can manipulate Rhaenyra and stray her away from the right path. I knew Daemon could not manipulate you when I wished you to be named heir. And I knew the truth you do as well, that the Realm will not want a woman on the Iron Throne. As it stands, I would counsel Viserys away from Rhaenyra the same way I counseled him away from Daemon."

She sneered, "There is a special place in the seven hells for you, Otto. Truth or not, you overstepped. You ruined your own daughter's life. You hurt both my girls, and I can never forgive you for that."

"And broke your heart, though it seems well mended by now. Whatever you think of me, I did love you. I still wish you well, though I know you will suffer for your niece's stubbornness. My heart goes to your four little ones, who will have no choice but to defend her as you will. I only hope they will not come to harm because of her choices, for they will lead to war."

"Get. Out."

With a curt nod, he mounted his horse. She watched him ride out and turned on her heel. What she hated most about him was that he was being truthful, in his own way. She did know the truth, she did know that war was like to follow. She'd known from the moment she chose to have children that they would probably need to be dragonriders to aid Rhaenyra in the war to come.

She knew, even, that she would be her greatest asset with the largest dragon. Vhagar would have to defend her rights, the same way she'd helped to conquer the Seven Kingdoms. In her heart, Daenys knew that both she and Vhagar would die defending Rhaenyra. Her children, she swore to herself, would outlive her for many years more.

News came from the Vale right before Viserys and Rhaenyra's return from Driftmark. Daemon, it seemed, was freed from his marriage obligations. The Lady Rhea Royce had died in a fall from her horse, her skull cracked. She'd laid in agony for many days and later rose, seemingly well again, only to die within an hour.

Daenys didn't know what to make of it. She wasn't sure if Daemon had gone to the Vale or not, whether he'd even been near when this happened. Gerold Royce had sent the letter directly to Daenys, for she'd met him several times and had always been a kind and comforting friend to Lady Rhea during their hunts. He believed that Daemon was responsible for the 'accident.'

She didn't want to believe that. Her brother had had numerous opportunities to kill Rhea in the nineteen years he'd been married to her. He could have had Caraxes eat her, he could have staged a mortal fall from one of the cliffs, he could have afforded to hire an assassin to wash his hands of it.

What did he gain from killing her now? Viserys might've exiled him but he never followed the rules, and as such it didn't make sense that he'd kill her simply to get out of being in the Vale. He was hardly there to begin with. Daenys had never known Daemon to so obviously raise his hand against a woman. He'd never hurt Rhea with anything but words, and she'd returned them in kind.

At any rate, it made a mess that she would have to clean up. She wrote back to Ser Gerold, informing him that while she didn't wish to believe that Daemon was responsible for such a thing, she could not deny that perhaps he'd finally pushed himself too far. She asked he offer as much evidence as he could. At present, he didn't have word that Caraxes had ever been sighted in the Vale.

Viserys already knew about Lady Rhea's death upon her return, but their conversation about it had been brief, given he'd taken to his sickbed after the stormy journey at sea. She'd sat with him while Mellos leeched him, listening to the bargain he made with Corlys and Rhaenys. The young Maester Orwyle had suggested a paste, but Mellos had spoken against it.

Rhaenyra's sons by Laenor would take the name Velaryon from birth, but the firstborn– regardless of gender– would ascend the Iron Throne with the name Targaryen. Rhaenys had been very pleased, and Corlys even more satisfied. Rhaenyra's second born would be heir to Driftmark.

He assured her that he'd spoken with Rhaenyra, and that she'd accepted her duty. She would take things more seriously now (how could she not, with her father so upset, Daemon gone, and Daenys evidently disappointed?). Not to mention she'd lied to Alicent, which Daenys worried was going to turn into yet another problem with how distant the Queen was upon their return.

All she could hope for her niece was that she would be ready for whatever would come. That she would continue to take it as seriously as she claimed to. Her path would not be easy, but it was her path nevertheless.

Both her girls were distant with her even while they awaited the Sea Snake's arrival. Alicent would speak very briefly with her, so occupied with one thing or another that Daenys often visited Aegon and Helaena alone with her children. Rhaenyra was being dragged around the castle to different seamstresses and squires needing tasks that Daenys had hardly seen her.

She did not complain about it. It hurt her less to try and think of it as her grown up girls doing what was expected of them given their station. Daenys herself was handling many of the new accommodations and helping hold court while Viserys was indisposed. She sat with Lord Lyonel Strong most of the day, sometimes joined by Aenar and Alyssa, the only two calm and curious enough to listen to the complains of the Realm.

By the time the Velaryons had arrived, Grand Maester Mellos had confirmed that Daenys was carrying her fifth child. Rolf had been overjoyed, the children somewhere between excitement and confusion. Gemma was too small to have an opinion, and Cliff was too immature to feel anything other than jealousy and puzzlement, but Alyssa and Aenar were most interested in the prospect of another sibling. They were both hoping for a boy, but their name suggestions were questionable. Daenys refused to name her child Balerion, Quicksilver, or Aelyx.

Rolf would most like another Tully name. There were several cousins, uncles, and aunts that he'd admired much in his youth, though she wasn't entirely sure which she might like of those. His nephew Elmo already had a son named Kermit and another on the way he hoped to name Oscar or Clementine, his brother had been Ernest, his father Grover, his favorite cousins Dawn and Abelard. She calmly advised him to keep thinking.

"My dear Daenys." Rhaenys kissed both her cheeks, and placed her hand on her still unassuming belly. "Another babe, what blessings from the gods."

"My last, I assure you," said Daenys with a smile. "All further blessings, I offer to Rhaenyra and Laenor. Can you believe it, our little ones united?"

"As you so hoped," said Rhaenys. "I am glad it has come to fruit. I hope it to bear fruit as well." She gave her a significant look. "Corlys believes he will grow out of it, but I worry."

Daenys nodded. "He's a good boy, Laenor. I've already spoken with Rhaenyra of how this marriage can still yield the heirs the Iron Throne and Driftmark will both need. It will never be easy for her, but... we've given her all the help we can thus far."

"Indeed." She smiled, seeming lost in thought for a moment. "If it could not be us, dear cousin, I am pleased that one day, perhaps... though war may come... we will see a woman on the Iron Throne."

"I hope as well. Alyssa is already excited, and it hasn't happened. She wants to be Rhaenyra's cupbearer when she becomes Queen. On that note, I'd keep a careful watch on Meleys these days you are here... my girl seems to think she's a friend to all dragons, though I've warned her not all will take kindly to her snooping about. She's fascinated with red dragons of late."

"Like her namesake," said Rhaenys, looping her arm with hers. "May she live a long and happy life. Your mother was my favorite aunt."

Daenys patted her hand. "As your father was Daemon's favorite uncle."

The first night held a private dinner between their families. Laena, a young beauty of six-and-ten, was fascinated by Daenys's children, while Rolf hardly ate, so interested in listening to Lord Corlys speak of his nine great voyages. Rhaenyra spoke well with Laenor, from what Daenys could see, but she knew a bond of blood when she saw one– they were kin, nothing more. Any love they had for one another would always be familial, hardly friendly and never romantic.

The following evening, a great feast was held once the last of their visitors had arrived, House Hightower of Oldtown. Daenys had hardly met Otto and Alicent's other relatives, but greeted them in kind, offering a firm hug to Ser Gwayne, though the boy seemed more cold towards her than he'd been when she last saw him, four years prior. Even Norman and Bryndon seemed to forget that Daenys had helped to raise them after their mother's passing.

Ser Harrold Westerling announced their guests, "It is with great pleasure that His Grace, King Viserys, announces the start of the royal wedding celebrations. House Lannister with their lord, Jason Lannister. Lord Paramount of the West and Master of Casterly Rock. House Hightower with their lord, Hobert Hightower, Beacon of the South, Defender of the Citadel, the Voice of Oldtown. House Tully with their lord, Grover Tully. Lord Paramount of the Riverlands and Lord of Riverrun..."

"There they are!" said Rolf happily at the sight of his nephew and great-nephews. He ran to hug four-year-old Kermit, who squealed as he peppered his face with kisses. "My boy." He hugged his nephew, and kissed the cheek of Elmo's pregnant wife, Arwyn Blackwood. "Father, it is good to see you again."

The Tullys bowed to Daenys. "I imagined you'd forgotten where Riverrun was," said old Lord Grover, a man of five-and-fifty who'd been kind enough to Daenys when they met, but was always one to speak his mind and often had everyone believing he was upset with them. "Not much fish left in you, though I am not sure there ever was. You were always more like your mother, and even she was nothing like those Freys that begot her." He looked down, raising a bushy eyebrow as Daenys pushed her children in front of her to greet their grandfather.

"Father," said Rolf with a smile. "These are my children. Aenar and Alyssa, our twins. Cliff, and little Gemma. Daenys is with child again."

"By all the gods," said Lord Grover, staring at his son as if he didn't think he had it in him to have so many children. "Princess, it is perfectly alright to fry a trout with your dragon fire every now and then."

"Nonsense, Lord Grover," she said amiably. "I enjoy going for a swim, if it quenches the fire within."

He let out a loud, boisterous laugh. He'd always taken her bawdy jokes better than her Tyrell mother-in-law, who would glare at her for every little thing she did against Highgarden standards. The children stared up, confused, unsure why this was funny. Soon enough, however, they became more interested in running around with Kermit.

Daenys and Rolf were quick to fetch them once the drumming began, signaling the entrance of the groom's family. Ser Harrold thundered, "Lord Corlys of House Velaryon. Lord of the Tides, Master of Driftmark. And his lady wife, Princess Rhaenys Targaryen. And their son and heir, Ser Laenor Velaryon, the future king consort."

The crowd clapped and stood to pay their respects. Scooping up their little ones, Daenys and Rolf went to sit near the high table, entertaining both the Tullys and the other Velaryons. Laenor's friend, Joffrey Lonmouth, who many called the Knight of Kisses, sat with Aenar, who badgered him with questions about why he was the Knight of Kisses. Joffrey calmly explained he bore a steel kiss with his sword, which brought Aenar a mischievous little look in his eyes, one shared with Cliff while Daenys watched on suspiciously.

Behind the Velaryons, another figure strode in. Daenys's jaw clenched at the sight of Daemon, strolling up to sit at the high table without so much as an invitation. He was not meant to be here, and certainly not meant to sit up there. But even as he smirked, Viserys called up a chair, for it was better to have him there where he could keep an eye on him.

"Be welcome," said Viserys, voice mildly strained and smile forced, "as we join together in celebration. Tonight is only its beginning. We honor the Crown's oldest and fiercest ally, House Velaryon. Reaching back to the days of Old Valyria and the Age of Dragons. With House Targaryen and–"

He stopped, looking once more at the entrance to their feast hall. Daenys was surprised to see Alicent only just making her way in, clad in an exquisite green dress etched with markings of green fire and lined with gold. Green was an interesting color to choose, not at all what Daenys would have expected the Queen to wear for a celebration of a Targaryen wedding.

She remembered young Gwayne once telling her his favorite color should be green as a knight, for it was the color the beacon at the Hightower glowed when Oldtown called its banners to war.