Baelon II Velaryon is the son of Rhaenyra Targaryen. Just like his mother he was a strong willed dragon rider. Built for the clouds and forged for fire. He was meant for greatness. But the legacy of his family weighed heavily on his shoulders.
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"I am Baelon the Second, of House Velaryon, of the blood of Old Valyria — I am the dragons son. And our Queens heir. You will remember your place or I will be forced to remind you. My blade is not kind, nor am I. So as the king said, the mattered has settled."
The court was silent, watching the smirking prince. No longer was there a boy but a man full grown.
Aemond stared with wanting eyes, his eyes turning into slits. Baelon wasn't the kind boy he remembered, far from it. His eyes moved towards the bleeding corpse on the floor to the dripping sword.
Soon Otto stepped in, ordering the guards to grab the boy.
Aemond watched as Daemon stepped forward before they can grab Baelon. Their interaction brief but Daemon showed his pride with a pat on the back, his lips pulled upwards in a smirk. Aemond felt the gnawing jealousy crawl up his throat, but he stamped it out quickly.
From his side, he felt his sister shift. He looked down at her, his eye taking in the way her face shifted in awe.
He turns back, his eye meeting Baelons. It was fleeting but he felt the rage within it, not exactly towards him, but towards the corpse.
。.✦ ☾
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