Sycamore Tree {Complete}

Chapter Nineteen

"I hope it might provide the Killing stroke against your white hart. The King of the Kingswood. It's as if the Seven themselves have blessed this day."

"Thank you for your generosity." Viserys spoke, handing the weapon off to a servant. The King reached for his goblet, hoping Lord Jason had gotten the hint to leave but of course he had not.

"I would be honored to take the Princess Rhaenyra to wife, Your Grace. What I offer you, the crown and your daughter is strength." The Lord of Casterly Rock looked smug, probably thinking that his speech had gone over well with the King.

But Viserys was insulted, "Do you think that House Targaryen wants for strength?"

"If someone offered you more dragons, would you not take them?"

"Do you have dragons to offer?"

"Casterly Rock is a splendid seat. Rhaenyra may take her place there by my side without shame, and feel herself well compensated for her loss in station."

"What loss of station?"

"If you were to name young Aegon heir, Your Grace."

"And when would I be doing that?"

"I had assumed, as he's your firstborn son." Lord Jason stuttered, feeling the ire of the King. "Well, many of us had assumed-"

"Many of us, you say? Have your bannermen questioned my choice of heir?"

"Of course not, Your Grace."

"It is your sworn duty to report rebellion stirring in my kingdom."

"Rebellion? There has been nothing of the sort, Your Grace. I only-"

"I did not decide to name Rhaenyra my heir on a whim. All the lords of the Kingdom would do well to remember that." When Lord Jason didn't speak, Viserys dismissed the man. "Thank you, for the gift."

For a brief moment Viserys had silence, he had time to think. Until Otto's grating voice filled his ears, as the older man perched on a nearby chair. "The huntsman has the trail, Your Grace, and has sent out the hounds. It won't be long now until the white hart is cornered. Your Prize is within reach."Viserys merely spared his Hand a glance, before the man continued speaking. "What do you make of Lord Jason's proposal?"

"That man's pride has pride." Viserys spoke around the rim of his goblet.

"You're not only Rhaenyra's father, you're the King. She'll do as you command."

"It is not my wish to command her, Otto. I want her to be happy."

"There is another choice beyond Casterly Rock. One perhaps you might be more comfortable with. One closer to home."

"Who do you have in mind?"

Otto was silent for a moment, gathering his nerve to say what was on his mind. "My son, Gwaine, Your Grace."

Viserys couldn't help but let out a laugh at this suggestion. Ser Gwaine Hightower had little to nothing to his name as the son of a second son. He wasn't even a firstborn son or a second born son. He had been born last after Otto's only daughter. "Your son?"

"Yes," Otto leaned closer, trying to convince Viserys it was a good proposition. "If you recall, the two got along as children."

"If I recall Rhaenyra ignored the boy in favor of playing with your daughter."

"Yes, but it would cease the endless proposals for Rhaenyra's hand." Otto tried to argue.

"I came here to hunt not to be suffocated by all this fucking politicking." Viserys spat, frustration and anger running off of him in waves.