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── ୨୧ ──
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Alicent trailed behind her ailing husband as he was helped into his chambers, her steps tight with frustration.
Saera followed dutifully, as she had been instructed, her head bowed slightly. Behind her, Aegon and Aemond entered in silence, their expressions unreadable.
In the king's chambers, the maester settled Viserys into bed, offering him milk of the poppy. Alicent paced at the foot of the bed, wringing her hands.
"My king," she said firmly. "Husband."
Viserys blinked wearily at her, his voice a hoarse rasp. "Alicent—"
"I don't think this is wise," she interrupted, her voice tense with restrained emotion.
Saera looked to her brothers. Aemond stood rigidly, hands clasped behind his back, his jaw tight. Aegon leaned against the wall, arms crossed lazily.
Then Viserys turned his gaze to Saera, his eyes clearer than they had been in days. "Saera," he said, "You will wed Prince Jacaerys Velaryon. You will do so without protest."
Saera's lips parted slightly, but she said nothing. She simply nodded.
It wasn't about Jacaerys not truly. Her feelings for him were real, long-held since childhood.
But she had never desired marriage, and Alicent had done all she could over the years to delay this inevitability. She had fought Viserys' wishes time and again, wanting a different future for her daughter. A freer one.
But now, the king had spoken.
Alicent stepped away from her husband as he closed his eyes in exhaustion, his body sinking deeper into the bed. The evening feast loomed, and the tension in the room thickened with each passing moment.
"Mother," Aemond spoke up, voice low and firm. "I don't like this."
Alicent lowered herself into a chair, sighing deeply. Saera looked between them. She caught sight of Aegon already pouring himself wine.
