ACT II — CHAPTER VII
A Sᴛᴀɪɴ

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Myra had been betrothed to Aemond for half a year, and every aspect of her life was bliss.

Her brothers and Rhaena had warmed up to the idea that they would be married — "warmed up" being a strong term, it was more like they begrudgingly accepted reality. Daemon never brought it up, but he held no resentment towards Myra, as he continued to train her and Rhaena in combat.

Rhaenyra was happy for her, Myra could tell, but she was more sad that she would be losing her daughter, in a way. It was a hard thing for a parent to accept, that their child was old enough to not need them anymore.

The only downside to her betrothal was that she was rarely able to sneak out to meet with Aemond. Ser Carden had been told by Rhaenyra to not leave his post outside her room at night unless there was another guard to replace him.

So, Myra had to carefully plan her escapes or beg Carden to leave for the night.

"I won't tell anyone if you get a good night's rest for once," she would say, "We can keep it between you and I."

This rarely worked, but some nights, Carden was extremely tired or in a particularly good mood, he would leave his post, if only long enough for Myra to sneak away.

She could count on one hand how many times she had seen Aemond these past six months. They tried to make the most of it every time they met, never knowing when they would see each other again.

Over the past half a year, Myra made sure to spend as much time with her siblings as possible. It was growing more and more likely that Myra would move to King's Landing after the wedding. Little details were still being worked out, such as whether or not Jacaerys would accompany her, but nothing was certain. So, she spent every free moment with them.

She went flying with Jace and Lucerys, and she would take Joffrey with them on Maekar. She and Rhaena would train longer, and afterwards they would sneak into Dragonstone's kitchens to see if they could sneak any sweets. She would read history books to Aegon and Viserys, who were six and four respectively now.

Rhaenyra was due to have another child in four months. Myra was glad that the child was set to come before she had to leave, because that meant she could get to know the baby, if only just a bit.

Laisa and Ellena were perhaps the ones most excited for the marriage. They would often go on about how romantic it was for two childhood friends to find their was back to each other, or something about Aemond being a "mysterious prince". Myra thought that sounded ridiculous.

Myra avoided talking about Aemond if she could, because she knew that most of her family was not entirely pleased with their betrothal. However, Aemond Targaryen seemed to be Laisa and Ellena's favorite topic of conversation.

"He is quite handsome," Laisa was saying as she and Ellena lounged on Myra's bed, as Myra herself wrote a letter to her future husband.

"I am glad to have your approval, Laisa," Myra jested, writing of how she almost beat Rhaena in their spar this morning. Perhaps next time.

"I wish I could marry a prince," Ellena laughed, her head hanging off the side of Myra's bed, "A mysterious prince. You are living a dream, Myra."

"Aren't you set to marry the son of Lord Amos Bracken?" Myra asked, looking over at the Piper girl.

"Yes, but everyone knows the Brackens love hating the Blackwoods more than anything. I expect an unfulfilling marriage is what lies ahead of me," Ellena sighed, holding a strand of her hair out in front of her.

Myra didn't say anything to that. She knew she was lucky to have been able to pick her own marriage, let alone marry someone she actually loved. She felt guilty that her ladies-in-waiting could not do the same.

"I do agree that he is quite handsome, your mystical prince," Ellena went on, "Even with the eyepatch."

That caused Myra to stop her writing, turning in her seat to face her, "What is that supposed to mean?"

Ellena's eyes widened, and she quickly sat upright, "I did not mean any offense. I only meant that it adds to his allure. My deepest apologies."

Myra nodded, turning back to her desk, "No need to apologize. I would just choose your words more carefully."

Laisa and Ellena both sighed in relief behind her, even though they had nothing to truly be relieved for. Myra would not have done anything, save chide them. She knew bitterness still resided with the loss of his eye, that the wound would never truly heal. She would never let anyone judge him for it.

Before any more words could be said between the three girls, the door to her chamber burst open. Myra jumped slightly, confused as to why Jace was storming in, with Joffrey trailing behind him.

"How do you do it?" Jace asked, standing above her, one arm leaning on her desk. Joffrey went over to read her letter, unbeknownst to Myra.

"Do what?" Myra asked, her brow furrowed.

"Speak Valyrian so — fluently," Jace explained, "You and Luke are both far better than I, no matter how hard and long I study."

"I don't know, I just speak it," Myra said, "It will come to you, Jace. I wouldn't worry."

"You can say that as someone who knows the difference between the tree felled and the tree was killed!"

"I had a dream of you last night, where you and I were —"

Myra's eyes widened as she turned in her seat, slamming her hands over her half written letter, glaring at Joffrey.

"How about you keep your eyes to yourself?" she scolded, as Jace, Laisa, and Ellena began to laugh.

"Tell us, what were you doing in your dream?" Laisa teased, moving to sit next to Ellena on the end of the bed.

"Nothing," Myra quickly answered, shoving the letter into one of the drawers of her desk.

"I know what they were doing," Joffrey said proudly, "They were —"

Myra clamped her hand over her brother's mouth.

"Oh, come on, tell us what it was about," Jace said through laughter, "Or, better yet, let us guess, and you can tell us if we are right. I think that would be much more fun, don't you agree?"

Laisa and Ellena nodded excitedly in agreement. Joffrey was saying something, but his words were muffled by Myra's hand.

Myra glared up at her brother, "Don't you have a language to learn? A tree to be killed?"

Jace's face fell, "That's not kind."

"Neither is trying to find out what I wrote in my private correspondence!"

She grabbed Joffrey's arm, keeping her hand over his mouth as she dragged him to the door, slamming it shut behind him. When Myra turned back, she saw Jace rummaging through the drawer she had shoved the letter into.

"Jace!" she yelled, running back over and slamming the drawer shut before he could grab the letter, standing in front of it.

"Please, Myra, tell us what you dreamt," Laisa begged, "Remember, we are living life vicariously through you."

"I will not tell you anything, so why don't we all forget it," Myra said, sitting back down and crossing her arms in defiance.

The door opened again, and Myra was expecting it to be Joffrey returning to spill all of her secrets. Instead, it was Rhaenyra.

"Why is Joffrey running down the hall saying he knows about your dream?" Rhaenyra asked, smiling in amusement.

Myra sighed, placing her head in her hands.

"The Princess wrote in her letter to Prince Aemond about a dream she had about him," Ellena explained, giggling with Laisa.

Myra's faced heated up, and she pointed out the door, "Alright, you two can leave."

They got up from Myra's bed, bidding Rhaenyra a good day as they left the room, a trail of more giggles following them.

Rhaenyra shook her head, clearly still amused by the children's bickering.

Finally moving on from Myra's dream, Jace asked, "Did you need to speak with Myra, Mother? I can go round up Joffrey, if need."

"I actually need to speak with all of you," Rhaenyra said, walking over to them, "Do you know where Luke or Rhaena are?"

"I believe they are in the library with the septa," Myra told her, sitting up in her seat, "Is something wrong?"

Rhaenyra didn't answer as she leaned against Myra's bed post, her hand over her swollen stomach. Myra and Jace exchanged wary glances.

"We are leaving for King's Landing on the morrow," Rhaenyra finally said.

This was not something either Myra nor Jace were expecting. The Velaryon girl sat up in her seat.

"Why?" Jace asked, leaning back on Myra's desk.

"Daemon just received a letter from Baela. Your grandsire, Lord Corlys, has been gravely injured in his fight in the Stepstones. It is uncertain whether he will survive," Rhaenyra explained, her eyes flitting between her two children, "Vaemond Velaryon is going to petition the crown for the Driftwood Throne to pass to him."

Myra glanced up at Jace. While they had seen their grandmother, Rhaenys, plenty of times during their visits to Driftmark, but they had not seen Corlys in ten years, not since Laenor's funeral. He had left to fight the Triarchy not long after that.

The Driftwood Throne would belong to Jacaerys. Corlys had always wanted it, as had Laenor. But Vaemond had never liked Myra's brothers. She remembered the speech he gave at Laena's funeral, and the way he glared at them whenever they visited Driftmark.

Myra knew what this meant. If Vaemond was declared heir to Driftmark over Jacaerys, her brothers' legitimacy would falter. The truth of her brothers' parentage had been haunting them for all their lives, but they had been able to avoid the topic, for the most part, for the past decade. Now, it could not be ignored.

"We will go to King's Landing and petition against him. Reaffirm your claim," Rhaenyra continued, her gaze now focused on Jace, "There is nothing to fear. Lord Corlys wants you to succeed him. We will simply remind the crown of that."

"By the crown, you mean the Hightowers?" Jace asked, his hands balled into fists. Myra looked down at her lap, picking at her nails.

"There is nothing to fear," Rhaenyra repeated, but Myra could tell that was a lie to make them feel more at ease.

Jace closed his eyes, breathing deeply. Then, he looked down at his sister, an unreadable expression in his eyes.

"At least you will be able to tell him about your dream in person," he all but spat, and then stormed out of the room.

Myra sighed, leaning back in her chair. She knew Jace wasn't angry at her, that he was angry at their circumstances. Myra was angry at the circumstances as well. If Corlys and Laenor both wanted Jace to rule at Driftmark, then that should be the succession.

This was a ploy, a ploy to prove Jace's illegitimacy, and by extension Luke and Joffrey's. It was a ploy to deny Rhaenyra her rightful throne, the throne that was one day meant to be Myra's. As she looked into her mother's eyes, she could see that she was correct in her thinking.

Myra had lived in bliss for the past half a year. Now, she was being brought back to the reality of things.

•⋅•⋅•

There was a time when Myra could not imagine living anywhere else other than King's Landing.

It had been her home for the first eight years of her life, and she had truly loved it there. But now, she had spent more time remembering it than she had spent living there. Now, King's Landing was a stranger to her.

"All hail Rhaenyra of House Targaryen, Princess of Dragonstone, and heir to the Iron Throne, and her royal consort, Prince Daemon Targaryen."

Myra followed Daemon out of the carriage, little Aegon clinging to her hand.

She couldn't help but be surprised that no one was in the courtyard to greet them. They were royalty, after all, to be treated with the highest respects, and yet not a single person at court had come to greet them, save the guards standing at their post. Not even Aemond was there, who had promised in his last letter to meet her when she arrived.

Why wouldn't he be waiting for her? Myra did her best to hide her disappointment as she looked at Rhaenyra and Daemon's faces, who appeared to be just as surprised as she was.

Just then, the door to the castle opened. Myra's heart skipped a beat, but immediately returned back to normal when she saw that it wasn't Aemond coming to greet her, but Lord Caswell.

He approached Rhaenyra, bowing slightly before grabbing both of her hands. He seemed genuinely happy when he said, "Welcome back, Princess."

"Lord Caswell," Rhaenyra greeted.

"Has my daughter come with you?" he asked, looking behind the family.

"Laisa is in the next carriage, my Lord," Myra told him, "I expect she will be here any minute."

"Thank you, Princess," Lord Caswell said, smiling at Myra before turning his attention back to Rhaenyra, "If you need anything at all, all you need do is ask."

"Thank you, Lord Caswell," Rhaenyra said.

With that, Lord Caswell walked away to meet Laisa's carriage. Rhaenyra turned to face her children.

"Daemon and I are going to see the King," she said, "I ask that you go to your chambers first. After that, be mindful of your actions."

"We will be," Myra assured, herding her siblings as one of the guards led them into the castle.

She had remembered the Red Keep being much more — well, bright. It had always been a place she idolized, a place of warmth in her childhood. But now, it felt only like a shell of what it was before. Gone was the heraldry celebrating Targaryen history, instead replaced by symbols of the Seven.

Her old chambers were more dull than she remembered as well. Myra had always thought of it as a cheery room filled with laughter, whether it be from her brothers as they dueled with wooden swords or as Aegon did his best to distract her from her studies as he sprawled across her chaise. But it had been years since then, before she had packed her life away and moved to Dragonstone.

It didn't take long for Myra to unpack with Ellena's help. She had dismissed Laisa so she could spend time with her father, who she had not seen in almost a year. Afterwards, she went out into the corridor, where Carden was standing outside her door.

"Are my brothers settled?" Myra asked.

"Yes, I made sure of it," Carden answered, "Would you like to look for the Prince Aemond?"

"No," Myra answered immediately, "I would like to see my aunt instead. Tell me, Ellena, have you met Helaena before?"

After Myra and Aemond's betrothal was announced, she received a letter from Helaena for the first time in nearly a decade. Since then, they have exchanged many letters back and forth. It was nice to correspond with her again — Myra had missed Helaena.

Myra and Ellena walked through the corridors of the Red Keep arm in arm, with Carden dutifully trailing along behind them. Myra would tell her about memories as they passed them, such as the time she and Aemond hid in the servants hall to try and miss a lesson in the dragonpit.

When they reached Helaena's chambers, Myra knocked on the door. A servant answered, quickly bowing before turning over her shoulder to call, "Princess Helaena, it is —"

"Myra?" Helaena asked, coming over to the door. The servant stepped back so that Myra and Ellena could enter the room.

"Helaena, it is wonderful to see you," Myra greeted, walking over to her.

Helaena gently took one of Myra's hands into both of hers, "As it is to see you. I trust your journey was well?"

"It was," Myra told her, turning around and waving Ellena closer, "Helaena, this is Ellena from House Piper. She is one of my ladies-in-waiting."

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Princess," Ellena said, bowing her head. It was so odd to see Ellena act so formal, as she never was with Myra, which she preferred.

The sound of children's laughter caught Myra's ears. She looked past Helaena's shoulders and saw three young children sat on the floor playing with toys.

"Those are your children, Helaena?" Myra asked.

Helaena's face brightened, "Yes! Come — I have been telling them their cousins were coming to see them."

Jaehaerys and Jaehaera, Helaena's twins, were both six, while Maelor was four, the same ages as Myra's youngest brothers. She, Helaena, and Ellena all sat on the floor with them, helping them play with their toys as they spoke.

Helaena hadn't changed much. She was visibly older, of course, but she was still soft spoken and kind. Her fascination with insects had not dissipated, much to Myra's distaste, but she made no mention of it as Helaena talk about crickets she had seen when she was strolling with Maelor in the gardens.

Just then, there was another knock on the door. The servant went to open it again, and Myra was surprised to see Rhaenyra standing there.

"Mother, I thought you were speaking with grandsire?" she questioned.

"I was, but now I need you and Rhaena to accompany me," Rhaenyra told her, before smiling at Helaena, "Hello, sister. I hope you are doing well?"

"I am. It is good to see you," Helaena replied, holding Jaehaerys in her lap.

"I hate to tear you away, but it is necessary," Rhaenyra said to Myra.

"Of course, Mother," Myra said, patting Maelor's head before standing up, "Are you staying here, Ellena?"

"If the Princess does not mind," Ellena said, her words directed at Helaena. She shook her head.

"Alright. I will find you both later," Myra said, saying a final goodbye to the children before following her mother out of the room, instructing Carden to stay with Ellena as they went.

"Where are we going, Mother?" she asked once they were a good ways down the hall.

"First to find Rhaena, and then to see your grandmother, Rhaenys," Rhaenyra explained.

That made Myra's heart soar. She had not been to visit Driftmark since before Baela went to ward a year ago.

"It is important that Rhaenys backs your brother's claim over Vaemond's," Rhaenyra went on, grabbing her daughter's arm and guiding her down an empty corridor as her voice lowered, "While she holds love for you and your brothers, she holds none for Daemon or I. She believed that we had Laenor killed. It is important that we present a united front."

"So you are using Rhaena and I to sway her? Presenting her with the children of her son and daughter?" Myra questioned.

"I hope yours and Rhaena's presence will help soften the blow, yes," Rhaenyra said. She stopped in her tracks and looked around to make sure that no one was near them before she continued, "Otto and Alicent Hightower have the King addled on Milk of the Poppy. They will be the ones to determine who next sits the Driftwood Throne. It is necessary that we have all the support we possibly can. If we should fail, your brothers' legitimacy will be put into question, along with our claims to the throne. We must not fail."

Myra nodded as she swallowed, "I understand."

"Good. Then let us go find Rhaena," Rhaenyra said, wrapping her arm around Myra's shoulders and guiding her down the hall.

Rhaena was in Baela's quarters, the twins catching up after having not seen one another in a year. Baela was the one to tell them that Rhaenys was in the Godswood, and then three of them left her to unpack.

Seeing the weirwood tree that she and Aemond used to lie under brought a warm feeling to Myra's chest, one that she couldn't describe in words. She tried to ignore the fact that he had still not come to find her.

The sight of her grandmother helped with that.

"Grandmother?" Rhaena called.

Rhaenys turned to face them, immediately smiling, "Rhaena. Oh, Myra."

The two cousins went over to her, hugging her as Rhaenyra slowly approached.

"It has been too long," Rhaenys said, grabbing each of their hands, "Myra, I have yet to say my congratulations on your betrothal."

"Thank you, Grandmother," Myra told her, squeezing her hand tighter, "Would it be alright if I tried to visit before the wedding?"

"Of course. You will always be welcome on Driftmark."

They fell into silence, because the realization that she might not always be welcome came to all of them. If Corlys died and Vaemond was named heir over Jace, Myra doubted she would be permitted to visit.

"Baela said you might be here," Rhaenyra said, breaking the silence, "She's done well as your ward. You've — taught her admirably."

"You honor me, Princess," Rhaenys replied, and Myra thought she seemed genuine.

"Might I speak to the Princess alone, Myra? Rhaena?" Rhaenyra questioned.

"Of course," Myra nodded.

"Princess," Rhaena agreed, bowing her head. Myra linked her arm through Rhaena's and they left the Godswood.

Rhaena, who had not been told the true reason for them meeting their grandmother, was trying to suppress her disappointment of having to leave her so soon. Myra squeezed her arm.

"We will find her later, you and I. I promise," Myra told her, giving her a small smile.

"That would be nice," Rhaena said, "I suppose it is nice, for all of us to be together again. We haven't all been under the same roof since —"

Since Laena's funeral, when Aemond claimed Vhagar, they attacked him, and Luke took his eye. Rhaena didn't finish her sentence.

"It must be nice, to see Aemond again, at least. I know it had been a long time since you have seen him," she said instead.

"I wouldn't know," Myra sighed, looking down at her feet.

"You havent seen him yet?" Rhaena asked as they turned down a crowded corridor.

"He did not meet us on our arrival and has not come to find me," Myra said.

"That is not kind at all," Rhaena said, a scowl growing on her face, "I would be furious. I am furious for you."

"I am indifferent," Myra stated, "Hurt, a little. But not furious."

"Well, I am still furious. If you would like, when I see him, I can —"

"Myra!"

As if they had summoned him, Aemond was coming up the hall behind them, walking briskly towards them. Myra straightened, making sure it didn't show that she was glad to see him.

"I'm sorry I did not meet you sooner," he said, reaching down to grab her free hand, lifting it up so he could kiss her knuckles. Myra didn't even try to hide her unamusement as he continued speaking, "I was not made aware of your arrival. I've been in the training yard."

Rhaena's brow raised and, not wanting to experience a lover's quarrel, muttered, "I'll speak with you later" before leaving.

Myra pulled her hand from his grasp, "I have missed you."

"As I have you," Aemond said. They had not seen each other in nearly two months, and while Myra was glad to see him, her annoyance with him, coupled with the reason for their being there, soured her mood.

"I am retiring for the night. I will see you on the morrow," Myra told him, turning away from him and heading down the corridor.

She could hear Aemond sigh in annoyance as he followed after her, "Are you angry?"

"At you? No," Myra said, still practically storming away from him.

"Then who are you angry yet?" he asked.

"I am angry at  your mother, your grandfather and Ser Vaemond," Myra all but spat out.

Aemond, seeing where this conversation was going, grabbed Myra's arm and pulled her away from the populated corridor and to a more secluded one. Myra leaned against the wall as Aemond stood over her, looking around to make sure no one was approaching.

"You should mind what you say in crowded places," Aemond told her, his grip on her arm loosening.

"So you understand why I am angry?" Myra pressed, "You understand that if Vaemond Velaryon is named the heir of Driftmark, Jacaerys' legitimacy will be put to question, and by extension, mine and my brothers'. My mother's claim to the throne will more than likely be extinguished, and mine and my brothers' lives will be forfeit."

"You and your brothers' legitimacy," Aemond almost laughed, a teasing smile growing on his face.

Myra tilted her head, her eyes. arrowing, "Yes, mine and my brothers. People have been questioning our legitimacy since we were children. Ser Vaemond's bid is a ploy to prove their suspicions, even though they hold no merit."

"No one has been questioning your legitimacy, Myra," Aemond said, the teasing smile not fading, filling Myra with more anger.

"One cannot question my brothers' legitimacy without also questioning mine," she replied.

A united front, her mother had said. She and her brothers were one in the same. That was how she had to present it.

Aemond gave out a breathy laugh, shaking his head as he stared down at her. Myra's jaw tensed, but her gaze softened.

"I hate when you look at me like that," she muttered.

"Like what?" Aemond questioned, his eye flitting across her face.

"Like I am a fool."

She remembered the first time he had looked at her like that, after one of their lessons in the Dragonpit. Aegon had called her an imbecile for not realizing the truth about her brothers, and when she had asked Aemond to tell her what she was missing, he looked at her just like this. She hated it, hated that he thought so low of her.

"I do not think you are a fool," he told her, his hand moving up to hold her face.

"What do you think will happen to you and I if Vaemond is named the next Lord of the Tides?" Myra asked, leaning into his touch, "Your mother would not allow us to marry. She already does not want us to. This debate is set up so that my family and I will fail. What will become of us when that happens?"

Aemond didn't answer. Myra pulled away from him.

"Why don't you think on that?" Myra spat. She looked at Aemond for only a moment longer before she walked away, leaving him behind in the corridor.

•⋅•⋅•

"Though it is the great hope of this court that Lord Corlys Velaryon survive his wounds, we gather here with the grim task of dealing with the succession of Driftmark."

The hearing arrived sooner than Myra would have liked. She stood in the throne room, behind Rhaenyra, Jace, and Daemon with her arm looped through Luke's as Rhaena stood on his other side. Across the room from them was Vaemond Velaryon, with Rhaenys and Baela behind him. The rest of the throne room was filled with the lords and ladies of the court, each standing behind who they supported.

At the front of the room was the Queen Alicent, with Aemond, Helaena, and Aegon. Myra hadn't seen or spoken to Aegon yet, but he was avoiding her eye. He looked tired.

Otto Hightower sat on the Iron Throne. It was disgraceful, Myra thought, to put himself in the King's seat, as if he was the highest authority. She wanted to spit at his feet.

"As Hand, I speak with the King's Voice on this and all other matters," Otto was saying, "The crown will now hear the petitions. Ser Vaemond of House Velaryon."

Vaemond stepped forward, right in front of the throne. Myra glared at him, gripping onto Luke's arm to ease her nerves.

"My Queen. My Lord Hand," Vaemond began, his chest puffing with confidence, "The history of our noble houses extends beyond the Seven Kingdoms to the days of Old Valyria. For as long as House Targaryen has ruled the skies, House Velaryon has ruled the seas. When the Doom fell on Valyria, our houses became the last of their kind. Our forebearers came to this new land, knowing that were they to fail, it would mean the end to their bloodlines and their name."

Vaemond straightened, "I have spent my entire life on Driftmark defending my brother's seat. I am Lord Corlys' closest kin, his own blood. The true, unimpeachable blood of House Velaryon runs through my veins."

"As it does in my children, the offspring of Laenor Velaryon," Rhaenyra spoke up, obviously agitated, "If you cared so much about your house's blood, Ser Vaemond, you would not be so bold as to supplant its rightful heir. No, you only speak for yourself and for your own ambition —"

"You will have a chance to make your own petition, Princess Rhaenyra," Alicent interrupted, "Do Ser Vaemond the courtesy of allowing his to be heard."

Myra watched her mother inhale sharply as Vaemond turned to face her, a smirk on his face. Rhaenyra stoically faced forward.

"What do you know of Velaryon blood, Princess?" Vaemond asked, "I could cut my veins and show it to you. I could slit your own daughter's wrists so you could see, and you still wouldn't recognize it."

The tone of the room became even worse than it already was. Myra glanced at him, her jaw tensing as she gulped. Rhaenyra and Daemon's heads both snapped to him. Luke moved closer to her as Jace's shoulders straightened. From the corner of her eye, Myra could see Aemond take a small step forward.

"This is about the future and survival of my house, not yours," Vaemond went on, his eyes going to Jace before turning back to face Otto on the throne, "My Queen, my Lord Hand. This is a matter of blood, not ambition. I place the continuation of the survival of my house and my line above all. I humbly put myself before you as my brother's successor ... the Lord of Driftmark and Lord of the Tides."

"Thank you, Ser Vaemond," Otto said, nodding.

Vaemond took one last look at Jace before moving back to his original spot. Myra bit the inside of her cheek.

"Princess Rhaenyra, you may now speak for your son, Jacaerys Velaryon."

Rhaenyra breathed deeply as she stepped forward, resting her hands on her swollen stomach.

"If I am to grace this farce with some answer, I will start by reminding the court that over twenty years ago, in this very —"

The doors to the throne room opened. Everyone turned back, and was shocked by the sight.

"King Viserys of House Targaryen," one of the Kingsguard announced, "the First of His Name, King of the Andals, and the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm."

King Viserys, who Myra had not seen since she was a child, was sickly. This, Myra knew, but she did not know the extent of it. He was doubled over, his cane the only thing keeping his standing as he walked towards the throne. Most of his hair was gone, with only a few wispy strands remaining, and hald of his face sunken in and pale. The other half of his face was concealed by a golden mask.

He struggled as he made his way to the throne, but it was an empowering sight. It was made even better by the horrified expressions on Otto's face.

The King stopped when he reached Rhaenyra, taking a moment to look at his eldest daughter. Then, he proceeded to the bottom of the steps that led up to the throne, were Otto had come down to meet him.

"I will sit the throne today," Viserys managed to say through his pants.

Otto nodded solemnly, "Your Grace."

Viserys began to make his way up the steps, groaning in pain as he did so. However, when one of the Kingsguard went to help him, the King shooed him away.

"I will be fine," he said, "I will be fine."

But as he took his next step, the crown fell off his head. Immediately, Daemon went over, picking up the fallen crown.

"I said I'm fine," Viserys repeated, but upon seeing it was Daemon, his only brother, he quieted.

He made no protest as Daemon helped him up the rest of the steps and sat him on the throne. And then, it was Daemon who placed the crown back on Viserys' head.

Daemon came back down the steps to stand by Rhaenyra, who had moved back in her original place by Jace.

The King looked out at the hall, before saying, "I must ... admit, my confusion."

Myra's grip on Luke loosened, and she all but sighed in relief — Viserys would judge the hearing, and justice would prevail.

"I do not understand why petitions are being heard over a settled succession," Viserys continued, "The only one present, who might offer keener insight into Lord Corlys' wishes is the Princess Rhaenys."

"Indeed, Your Grace," Rhaenys said. Myra watched as her grandmother's eyes flitted to Vaemond before she stepped forward.

Everyone looked at her, waiting in anticipation for what she would say, who she would support Myra's grip on Luke loosened, and she all but sighed in relief — her grandson or her good brother.

"It was ever my husband's will that Driftmark pass through Ser Laenor to his trueborn son, Jacaerys Velaryon," Rhaenys said, "His mind never changed. Nor did my support of him."

Myra fought to hold back a smile of satisfaction, resolving to biting her lip instead.

"As a matter of fact, the Princess Rhaenyra has just informed me of her desire to marry her sons Jace and Luke to Lord Corlys' granddaughters, Baela and Rhaena. A proposal to which I heartily agree."

This Myra did not know. Luke's brow raised in surprise as he looked to Rhaena. While Myra couldn't see the expression on Jace's face, she could see he looked visibly relaxed as he looked at Baela.

On the other hand, Alicent and Otto had resigned disappointment written all over their faces.

"Well ... the matter is settled," Viserys announced, "Again. I hereby reaffirm Prince Jacaerys of House Velaryon as heir to Driftmark, the Driftwood Throne, and the next Lord of the Tides."

Rhaenys moved back to Baela. For a moment, Myra relished in their victory, one that she did not think they would be able to achieve.

But then, Vaemond stepped forward.

"You break law, and centuries of tradition to install your daughter as heir," Vaemond said, anger laced in his voice, "Yet you dare tell me who deserves to inherit the name Velaryon? No. I will not allow it."

"'Allow it'?" Viserys repeated, "Do not forget yourself, Vaemond."

Suddenly, Vaemond spun around, accusingly pointing his finger at Jace, "That is no true Velaryon, and certainly no nephew of mine!"

"Go to your chambers," Rhaenyra said to her children, but none of them moved as he continued speaking, "You have said enough."

"Jacaerys is my true-born grandson," Viserys stated, "And you ... are no more than the second son of Driftmark."

"You may run your house as you see fit, but you will not decide the future of mine!" Vaemond shouted, "My house survived the Doom and a thousand tribulations besides! And Gods be damned — I will not see it ended on the account of this —"

Myra stepped forward so that she was next to Jace, pulling Luke behind her. Her eyes narrowed, trying to seem brave, but she swore she could feel her heart beating.

"Say it," Daemon hissed.

The room was dead silent. Vaemond had an evil look on his face.

"Her sons are bastards!"

Gasps filled the room. Jace reeled back, but not in fear — he reeled back as if he would attack Vaemond.

"And she is a whore!" Vaemond spat, "And her daughter, her only saving grace, stands by their side. How dare you support the defilement of your House? You are a stain on House Velaryon!"

Myra could not keep a brave face anymore. Rhaenyra put her arm out in front of Myra and Jace, pushing them back.

Viserys pushed himself up off the throne, pulling out the blade on his side.

"I will have your tongue for that!"

There was a slicing noise, and then the top half of Vaemond's head went flying off. Myra jumped back, watching as Vaemond's body fell, his tonuge still attched to the rest of him. With wide, frightened eyes, she looked from his body up to Daemon, who stood triumphantly over the body, sword in hand.

"He can keep his tongue," was all he said.

"Disarm him!" Otto shouted, and the Kingsguard all unsheathed their swords.

"No need," Daemon said innocently, wiping the blood off his sword before putting it back in his sheath.

Before an protests could be made, Viserys fell back in his seat, groaning in pain.

"Call the maesters!" Alicent cried, running up the steps to help him.

"Father?" Rhaenyra called, stepping forward.

One o the Kingsguard and the Grand Maester came forward to help him, and they left the throne room.

After that, the crowd began to disperse, which Myra was grateful for, because she could not keep it together anymore. She slipped out of the hall, hopefully unnoticed, her hand covering her mouth, as she held back her tears.

A stain on House Velaryon. Being a Velaryon was what had gotten her through the death of her father. She had prided herself in being of the sea, just as much as she was of the fire. Laenor had wanted Jacaerys to succeed him, he had always seen Jace, Luke, and Joffrey as his sons. And yet, she was a stain on the house she loved.

Myra collapsed against the wall of a dark, empty corridor as she heaved deeply, fighting against the sobs that riddled her, biting her nail to try and keep quiet.

"Myra," Aemond's hand on her shoulder made her jump, and she wiped her face, as if it would make it look like she hadn't been crying uncontrollably.

"Please, do not say anything," she whispered, when she turned to him, "I don't wish to hear it."

"What Vaemond said was out of line. You should not have had to hear it," Aemond told her.

That made Myra laugh, and more tears fall down her face, "I should not have had to hear it, but it is what you believe to be true? My brothers — my mother — and me, a stain on my house."

"You are no stain," Aemond said quickly. Myra shook her head, wiping the tears off her face.

He gently took her face in his hands, forcing her to look at him as she held back her sob.

"Listen to me. You are no stain. He was wrong. Do you understand?" he told her, his eye not leaving hers, "I do not believe you are, and I never have. "

Myra leaned into him, falling into his chest as she cried even more. She felt pathetic, but Aemond said nothing of how pitiful she looked. Instead he just held her, which was all she needed.

────── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──────

WRITTEN: december 2024
WORDS: 6,607

AUTHOR'S NOTE! i sat down at midnight and i was like okay im gonna get this chapter out tonight. it's five in the morning. i am my own worst enemy.

why do i write chapters longer than the bible? who knows why. again i am my own worst enemy. but hopefully, hopefully the next chapter should be short. i am hoping and praying. also when i was writing this my cat crawled on my computer and almost deleted the entire chapter when i was like 4k words deep my life flashed before my eyes.

this chapter is what i like to call vaemond velaryon biting the curb 4k ultra hd. also aemond not meeting myra? red flag but we keep moving.

i am home for the holidays which means i will be writing more! hopefully i'll be able to get the next chapter done soon.

i hope you liked this chapter! it's unedited i haven't even looked at it so i apologize if it's riddled with mistakes lol. happy holidays!!