Game of Thrones: The King of Bronze and Fire

King's Landing.

The Red Keep, Council Hall.

A meeting was underway to discuss the princess's marriage.

Viserys, known for his gentle temperament, was now visibly irritated. "That brat Aemon cut off all contact after arriving in the Vale!"

He was absolutely furious.

"Aemon is still young, Your Grace," said a strong, black-haired man with a neatly trimmed beard, smiling as he spoke. "It's normal for a boy that age to avoid dealing with emotional matters."

The man, seated at the king's left as the new Master of Laws, had taken the place of Laenor Velaryon.

Viserys glanced at him and let out a long, frustrated sigh. "But he should at least reply to his king's letter! Why must I, his uncle, wait endlessly?"

Jaspe Wilde, known as "The Ironrod," chuckled, offering an easy solution. "Give him time, Your Grace. Youth requires experience to mature."

"Enough of your platitudes, Jaspe."

Prime Minister Laenor spoke, clearly displeased with the man sitting opposite him.

Jaspe Wilde's nickname, "The Ironrod," wasn't a title of respect. It was a vulgar nickname, earned from his string of dead wives and many children. Rumors had it that he kept a literal iron rod in his bed, leading to countless scandalous stories about his prowess and wives' untimely deaths.

Seeing Laenor's growing irritation, Viserys snapped impatiently. "Fine. If you're all so wise, tell me—what should we do about Rhaenyra's marriage?"

The council fell silent.

Everyone knew that Aemon had no intention of marrying the princess, despite Viserys's obvious preference.

The silence in the hall grew heavier. Viserys scanned the faces around the table, growing increasingly frustrated. "What? No one has a suggestion?"

"I do, Your Grace," said Grand Maester Mellos, breaking the silence.

Viserys perked up. "Go on, speak."

Mellos, slow and deliberate as always, tucked his hands into his sleeves. "Perhaps the prince simply needs more time. Why not allow the princess to explore more options and broaden her horizons?"

Viserys frowned deeply. "I've already invited half of Westeros's noble youths to court, and Rhaenyra rejected every single one."

"Then perhaps she should meet the other half." Mellos's tone was calm but firm.

Viserys sat back, stunned by the simplicity of the suggestion.

"I agree!" said Tyland Lannister, the Master of Ships, raising his hand eagerly.

Though his brother Jason was already married, Tyland still saw a path to power through Rhaenyra. The man who won her hand would gain immense influence.

Viserys cast a skeptical gaze around the table. "What about the rest of you?"

Laenor frowned, clearly conflicted.

As Aemon's father, Daemon, was known for his unpredictability and ambition, Laenor feared that allowing Rhaenyra to marry Aemon might create a dangerous power bloc within House Targaryen.

"I agree," said Jaspe Wilde, ever eager to voice his opinion. "The Stormlands are full of fine young men."

Linman, the Master of Coin, hesitated before speaking. "I…" He glanced nervously at Laenor, clearly inclined to object.

In Linman's eyes, Aemon was the best match for Rhaenyra. The young prince had been raised by King Jaehaerys and had lived in the Red Keep for years. His character was trustworthy.

But before Linman could finish, Mellos cut him off. "Three votes in favor, two abstaining. The majority has spoken."

Linman's face darkened in frustration, but he had no support. Without Laenor's backing, his objection was meaningless.

"So be it." Viserys sighed deeply. "Rhaenyra is of age. She'll tour the realm as my heir and, hopefully, find a suitable match along the way."

The council members nodded in agreement, and plans for the princess's tour quickly took shape.

Later that afternoon.

A bronze dragon soared across Blackwater Bay, circling King's Landing before landing gracefully in the Dragonpit.

In the Red Keep, Aemon made his way toward Maegor's Holdfast. As he climbed the staircase, he spotted Rhaenyra wandering the open-air corridor.

"What are you doing here?" Aemon asked with a grin, pleasantly surprised to see her.

Rhaenyra glanced at him briefly before turning away. "My father is holding a council meeting. He kicked me out."

"Ah…" Aemon scratched the back of his head, momentarily at a loss for words.

No wonder she looked so annoyed.

Rhaenyra took a deep breath to calm herself before extending an invitation. "Walk with me?"

"Sure."

The two strolled through the castle, chatting casually.

After a while, Rhaenyra broke the silence. "Do you think I should listen to my father and hurry to marry someone?"

Aemon glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, noting her troubled expression. He carefully avoided answering directly. "You have your own responsibilities, don't you?"

"My responsibility is to marry and produce heirs," Rhaenyra muttered, her voice laced with bitterness.

Her thoughts drifted to her mother, Queen Aemma, a kind and gentle woman.

Aemma had suffered through miscarriage after miscarriage, all because of Viserys's obsession with producing a male heir.

Her mother's tragic death haunted Rhaenyra, fueling her resentment toward marriage and her father's expectations.

"I don't want to end up like her."

Aemon paused for a moment, considering his words carefully. "The world is unfair. But instead of letting fear control you, why not face it head-on?"

"And what should I do?"

"I don't know." Aemon shrugged. "Everyone's path is different, but the goal is the same."

Rhaenyra walked silently, pondering his words.

After a moment, Aemon tried to change the subject. "I've found a new territory in the Vale. I'm already making plans to develop it."

"New territory…?" Rhaenyra's eyes lit up with interest.

She suddenly felt inspired.

Why should she limit herself to the Red Keep's politics?

She could build alliances, strengthen her position, and prove her worth to her father without relying on his approval.

Aemon watched her with a mix of amusement and concern. He could see the gears turning in her mind, and he worried she was getting carried away.

"Let's get back to discussing marriage," he said quickly, hoping to steer the conversation back on track.

Rhaenyra tilted her head, smiling mischievously. "You're right!"

Right about what?

Aemon blinked, confused and slightly alarmed.

Rhaenyra stepped closer, her eyes twinkling with newfound determination.

"Aemon, have you faced any challenges in the Vale? Are you in need of assistance?"

Aemon leaned back slightly, wary of her sudden enthusiasm. "I've got a new territory to manage and some complications with my mother."

"Sounds familiar," Rhaenyra said, smirking. "My father is pushing me to marry, too."

"Same here. My mother wants me to marry a girl from the Vale."

Their gazes met, a shared understanding passing between them.

At the same time, they both blurted out:

"My father wants me to marry you."

"My mother insists I marry a Vale girl."