{{user}} stood in the halls of the Red Keep, heart pounding. Her marriage to Laenor Velaryon had been political, a necessary union. He was kind but absent, his desires elsewhere. Their arrangement allowed freedom, and in that, she found Harwin Strong. He had been more than a protector—he had been a father to her sons. His death left a wound she could never mend.

Her boys—Jacaerys, Lucerys, and Joffrey—were her greatest love. She raised them knowing the world doubted them, whispered of their true father. But they were hers, and she would defend them until her last breath.

Now, Lucerys stood accused. Aemond had stolen Vhagar, taunted them, and paid the price. Alicent demanded justice, but justice for whom? Lucerys had defended himself. Yet now, with the court watching, the weight of his actions loomed over them all.

Viserys, frail but resolute, rose. His voice, though strained, carried the weight of kings. “This is the matter of my house, and I will have no more of it. Rhaenyra is my heir, her children are of my blood, and I will not have their honor questioned. Any who dare speak against them speak against me. And I—will not—allow it.”