The Realm's Delight

Chapter 21

To prevent a larger disaster a person has to commit small tragedies, no matter how pure or honorable they were. I realized that on the day of Laena's funeral.

Two years had passed since that day, and life had been anything but smooth sailing. There were good things that happened, and then there were things that made me want to bawl.

I gave birth once more, not almost dying in the process thankfully. There were no twins this time, just the one son that I named after my paternal grandfather.

Baelon Targaryen was born smaller than his older brother Aemon but was louder and more excitable than he was. His hair was as silver as Platinum and his eyes as green as emeralds, a mix of his father and his mother.

His birth solved one issue that the Westerlands were causing for us, they had a male heir to the seat of Wardenship. Viserra did not mind it when the decision to name Baelon heir was discussed with her. She was calm, understood the reason and found sense in our decision. I may have underestimated just how sensitive she was to the matter of state.

But that did not mean that Viserra was left with nothing. Baelon's declaration as heir to Casterly Rock was followed by another declaration, a betrothal between Cregan Stark and Viserra Targaryen. Just the year before Laena's death, Cregan's first wife Arra Norrey had died birthing their child, who Cregan named Rickon after his father. A discussion between Cregan and I had been going on about taking Viserra's hand in marriage. Cregan's only stipulation was that Viserra had to accept his son as one of her own and treat him as such. Viserra did not mind it and as such the betrothal had gone through. It was decided that when Viserra turned six and ten, the wedding would take place.

On the other side of the plate, the Triarchy and Dornish alliance was defeated swiftly this time around and the puppet masters behind the Triarchy were brought to heel. They did not kneel to my Father, but they were forced into submission and would not be acting out any time soon. Dorne on the other hand had receded to their hiding holes and from what I can gather, they were waiting for the right time to strike.

Those were all the good news that we had, now for the bad ones.

Father's sickness had accelerated almost in these two years. He could not move properly and chunks of his skin had started to fall off. It was a terrifying sight and no matter what the Maesters tried, they did not have a cure for it. I knew what the disease was, but in the time that I was in there was no cure for it. So I had to watch as my Father was slowly bedbound. The Maesters had to care for him on the clock and see to all his needs.

Father no longer attended the Council meetings and I was basically ruling in his stead, Lord Lyonel, Tyland and Alicent assisting me the most in the Council. It was hard work, harder than I thought it would be. My respect for my Father went up because of it.

But as they say, the approaching storm will hit one day. And the storm in my life was knocking on my door.

----

It was tiring to rule the Kingdom of Westeros, looking at every minor issue that was brought to me, to offer a solution for them all. Half of these issues could have been if the Lords responsible for those lands did their jobs correctly. But of course, they'd rather push it to their King to decide. I could strangle them all right now. Luckily I had competent people helping me and calming me down.

I entered my chambers and let out a tired sigh when the doors were shut behind me. Behind closed doors, I could just relax, lay down in an unqueenly manner and recuperate. I planned on doing just that.

I untied my braid and let my hair fall freely. Slowly I undid the buttons on the shirt I wore, and that was when I heard the noise behind me.

I looked around and there stood a man wearing patched robes. His hair was black and matted, eyes red as if he was under the influence of something. His skin was covered in dirt and in his hand there was a curved knife.