Rewriting Targaryen History

Chapter 119: Chapter 119: A Prince’s Conduct

The rumour reached me before breakfast. That was never a good sign.

Small scandals usually waited until midday, when servants had crossed enough corridors, guards had repeated enough guesses, and ladies had decided which version of the truth best suited their enemies. A rumour that moved before the kitchens had finished breaking eggs had either powerful legs or powerful hands pushing it forward.

This one had both. Aegon had cornered a young chambermaid the previous evening.

The first version said he had been drunk. The second said he had only been pretending. The third added laughter, a torn sleeve, and two boys who had fled before anyone could name them. By the time the tale reached my rooms, the truth beneath it was simple enough and ugly enough that embellishment was not needed.

He had touched a girl who had not given him leave. She had pulled away. He had found that amusing until someone older entered the passage.

I did not repeat the rumour. That required more restraint than I liked to admit.

There were moments when politics offered a weapon so perfectly shaped for one’s hand that refusing it felt almost foolish. Otto had spent years letting whispers gather around Rhaenyra’s sons. He had smiled while others questioned children. He had allowed doubt to be dressed as concern and concern to travel like poison through silk-lined halls. Now his grandson had given the Red Keep a scandal of his own.

I could have pressed it. I could have let the corridors fatten the story until every servant, knight, and lesser lord knew that Aegon Targaryen had behaved like a spoiled boy who thought rank made permission unnecessary.

I did not. The girl had already been made small once. I would not make her useful too.

Rhaenyra heard it an hour later.

She came to me in our chamber with her expression held too still, which meant anger had already moved beyond its first heat. Aemma was with her nurse. The boys were at lessons. For once, there were no children close enough to overhear what adults had allowed another child to become.

"Is it true?" she asked.

"Enough of it is true."

Her mouth tightened. "Enough is too much."

"Yes."

She moved toward the window, then stopped before reaching it, as if she did not trust herself to stand still and look over the city. "What has been done for the girl?"

"I have heard she has been moved from the lower service rooms to the care of the housekeeper. No one has spoken with me directly."

"Moved for whose comfort?"

"That is the question."

Rhaenyra turned back. "Otto will want this swallowed before it becomes court knowledge. Alicent will be ashamed and frightened, and she will think first of keeping Aegon from being ruined. Father will wish the matter to become smaller with every breath. None of that answers what the girl is owed."

I watched her carefully. "If I press this, Otto will call it vengeance."

"I know."

"If you press it, he may say the same."

"He may say what he likes. I am not asking for his grandson to be paraded through the yard. I am asking that a prince, my half-brother, be taught that a chambermaid’s fear is not made less real because her father does not sit in council."

That was Rhaenyra at her best. Not soft. Not cruel. Clear.

"I will stand with you," I said.

"I know you will. But I want this to come from me first."

"It should."

She drew a breath, and for a moment I saw the mother beneath the heir. "Our sons need to hear of this one day, not in detail, but as law inside the house. They must know that their blood gives them duties before pleasures."

"They will."

"And if they ever forget, I expect you to frighten them back into memory."

"I can be very instructive when disappointed."

That did not make her smile. It was not the hour for it.

The matter came before the Small Council privately.

No petitioners. No courtiers. No guards beyond the doors except those already sworn to silence by cloak and habit. Viserys sat at the head of the table with a discomfort that made him look older than illness alone.

Alicent sat rigidly beside him, eyes red but dry. Otto stood behind his chair rather than sitting at first, as though posture might contain damage. Larys Strong was present, quiet as ever. Grand Maester Orwyle, Lord Beesbury, Tyland Lannister, and Jasper Wylde completed the council.

Aegon was brought in after the doors were shut.

He was fourteen, and that mattered. Not because youth excused him. Because youth meant this was still a warning before it became a pattern carved too deeply to break.

He entered dressed properly, hair combed, face pale beneath resentment and fear. Ser Curtis Crakehall stood behind him. Willis Fell waited near the doors, old enough to look tired of princely foolishness before hearing a word of it.

The chambermaid was not brought in at first. Rhaenyra had insisted on that. The girl would not be made to stand in the room while lords discussed whether her dignity was inconvenient.

Viserys rubbed his brow. "This is a private matter of discipline within the royal household. I want it handled with care."

Otto inclined his head. "Just so, Your Grace. The girl has been removed from the place where the incident occurred, and arrangements can be made for compensation. It would be best for all involved if the matter remains contained."

Rhaenyra looked at him. "Contained is a word men often use when they mean buried."

Otto’s expression did not change. "Princess, I mean spared from public cruelty. The girl’s name spreading through the Red Keep would not help her."

"No, it would not. Nor would pretending the only danger to her is gossip."

Alicent’s hands tightened together. "Rhaenyra, no one here wishes to hurt her further. I have already ordered that she be kept from service near Aegon and that no servant is to speak against her. I know what my son has done is wrong."

Her voice almost broke on the word son, but she held it. Rhaenyra’s anger did not soften, but it became more careful. "Then we agree on the first truth."

Aegon shifted. "I did not mean to frighten her. Everyone is speaking as if I dragged her screaming through the hall, and that is not what happened."

The room went still. Alicent closed her eyes. I did not speak.

Rhaenyra did. "You will not begin your defence by measuring how frightened she was allowed to be," she said. "You touched someone who did not welcome it. When she pulled away, you did not treat her refusal as enough. That is the matter before us."

Aegon flushed. "I said I did not mean it like that."

"You are a prince," Rhaenyra replied. "Meaning matters less when the person before you cannot safely tell you no. A servant should not have to calculate whether refusing a royal hand will cost her place, her wage, or her name."

Aegon looked toward his mother, but Alicent did not rescue him. That cost her.

Viserys sighed heavily. "Aegon, you have brought shame upon yourself and distress upon a girl under this roof. You will apologise."

Aegon’s jaw tightened. "To her?"

Alicent’s voice cut through the room, low and wounded. "Yes, to her. You will apologise to the girl you frightened, and you will do it without making her comfort you for your shame."

That struck him more deeply than Viserys had. Otto finally sat. Larys watched from beneath lowered lids.

Rhaenyra turned to Viserys. "The apology should be private, but witnessed by this council. Not as spectacle. As record. The girl should be allowed to have the housekeeper with her, or another woman she trusts. Afterwards, she must be given the choice to remain in service elsewhere in the Red Keep, enter another household with a recommendation, or leave service with enough coin that this does not punish her."

Lord Beesbury nodded. "That is reasonable. The payment should come from Prince Aegon’s allowance, not from general household accounts."

Aegon looked startled. "My allowance?"

Beesbury regarded him over tired eyes. "Consequences are more educational when they inconvenience the person responsible."

Tyland Lannister cleared his throat. As Master of Ships, he had little direct place in household discipline, but he understood court well enough to speak carefully. "If she chooses to leave the city, passage can be arranged discreetly and safely. No young woman should be forced onto a road alone because the court wishes to feel finished with the matter."

That was well said. Alicent looked at him with brief gratitude. Otto’s face remained composed, though I knew he disliked how the matter was moving beyond silence.

"And Aegon?" Rhaenyra asked. "An apology alone is not discipline."

Viserys looked pained. "He is a boy."

"He is a prince," Rhaenyra said. "If he is old enough for servants to fear displeasing him, he is old enough to be corrected when he misuses that fear."

Alicent’s voice was quieter now. "What do you propose?"

"No wine. No unsupervised movement through servant corridors or lower household spaces. No private gatherings with companions who encourage foolishness. His training, lessons, and court attendance continue, but under stricter watch. Ser Curtis Crakehall and Ser Willis Fell will alternate monitoring him for the next three months. If he thinks that humiliating, then perhaps he will remember why it happened."

Aegon stared at her. "Three months?"

Rhaenyra did not raise her voice. "You should be grateful I am not asking for longer."

Alicent looked at Viserys. For a moment, I thought she would argue. Instead, she said, "I agree."

Aegon turned to her as if betrayed. Alicent’s composure cracked enough for pain to show. "Do not look at me as though I placed you here. You did this. I love you, and that is why I will not help you become worse."

The room breathed differently after that. Even Otto did not immediately answer.

Viserys looked down at the table and then back to his son. "So it will be. You will apologise, you will obey the restrictions placed upon you, and Ser Curtis and Ser Willis will report any failure directly to the queen and to me."

Ser Curtis bowed. "As Your Grace commands."

Willis Fell followed, his older voice steady. "The prince will be watched properly."

Aegon looked furious, ashamed, and young. For one dangerous moment, I pitied him. Then I remembered the chambermaid. Pity could remain, but it would not lead.

The girl was brought in after the terms were set. Her name was Mina.

She was younger than I had expected, though old enough to be in service. She entered with the senior housekeeper beside her, eyes lowered, hands clasped so tightly the knuckles paled. The sight of the council table frightened her more than Aegon had seemed to frighten himself.

That alone angered me. Not because she was weak. Because every stone in that room told her she did not belong among the people deciding what her injury was worth.

Rhaenyra rose. That small act changed the room.

"Mina," she said, voice gentler than it had been all morning. "You have been brought here only so Prince Aegon may apologise before witnesses, and so you may hear what has been decided for your protection. You are not accused of wrongdoing. You are not expected to speak unless you wish to."

Mina looked up briefly, startled by being addressed so directly. Aegon swallowed. Alicent watched him with a face like a wound held closed.

Viserys gestured weakly. "Aegon."

The boy stepped forward. For the first time since entering, he did not look defiant. He looked trapped by the reality of the person before him. Not a rumour. Not a servant in a corridor. A girl with frightened hands and a name.

"I am sorry," he said, then stopped.

Rhaenyra’s eyes sharpened.

Aegon forced himself to continue, voice rougher. "I am sorry for touching you and for frightening you. I should not have done it, and I should have stopped the moment you pulled away. You did nothing wrong. I did."

Mina stared at him. No one asked her to forgive him. Thank the gods.

Rhaenyra spoke again. "You will be moved to another part of the household if you wish to remain in the Red Keep. If you would prefer service in another household, that will be arranged with a good recommendation. If you choose to leave service, you will be given coin enough to do so safely. No one is permitted to punish you for this, by word or deed. If anyone tries, you will bring it to the housekeeper, to Queen Alicent, or to me."

Mina’s lips parted, but no sound came at first. The housekeeper placed a steady hand at her back.

Finally, Mina whispered, "Thank you, Princess."

Rhaenyra inclined her head. "You are owed more than thanks, but we will begin there."

Mina was escorted out soon after.

Only when the doors closed did Otto speak. "This must not become a precedent for dragging every household mistake before the council."

Rhaenyra looked at him with a coldness I rarely saw even in her. "A prince putting his hands on a servant is not a household mistake. It is a failure of conduct by royal blood. If precedent is made today, let it be that rank does not erase wrongdoing."

Otto’s reply died before becoming sound.

Alicent stood. "I will speak with my son," she said. "Alone first, then with Ser Curtis present."

Aegon looked as if he wanted to object, but the room had finally taught him enough silence to survive the moment. Viserys dismissed them soon after.

The council scattered slowly. Larys passed me near the door, cane tapping softly. "A difficult morning, my prince," he murmured. "Restraint is rare when scandal offers itself so willingly."

I looked at him. "A girl’s humiliation is not a feast for politics."

"No," he said, mild as ever. "Though many men would have found it nourishing."

"Many men have poor appetites."

His smile barely moved. "Indeed."

Rhaenyra remained near the table, one hand resting against the wood. I waited until the room had emptied before approaching her.

"You did well," I said.

She did not look pleased. "Doing well would have meant the girl never needed us."

"Yes."

Her eyes closed for a moment. "I kept thinking of our sons. Not because they would do the same, but because love makes excuses tempting. Alicent knew that today. I saw it in her."

"She chose rightly in the end."

"She did," Rhaenyra said. "And I hate that it surprised me."

There was nothing useful to say to that. So I stood beside her in silence.

Later that afternoon, I found Jace in the yard. He had heard only that Aegon was under discipline and that Ser Curtis and Ser Willis would be watching him in turns. That was all he needed for now.

"Did Aegon do something very bad?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Is that why Mother looked angry?"

"Your mother looked angry because a prince forgot that rank is not permission."

Jace frowned, trying to understand without being given more than he should carry. "Is that something I need to remember?"

"Every day."

He looked up at me, serious now. I placed a hand on his shoulder. "People will obey you because of your name. Some will smile when they are frightened. Some will say yes because no feels dangerous. You must learn the difference between consent and surrender before power teaches you not to care."

Jace did not answer quickly. Good. Some lessons deserved to land heavily.

At last, he said, "I will remember."

"I believe you."

Across the yard, Luke laughed at something Erryk said, and for a moment the world seemed ordinary again. It was not. But ordinary moments were still worth guarding.