The army she had sought so long had finally been granted by the gods at her feet in a show of their favor towards her to win the war.

The crown belongs to her.

The gods had chosen her as the rightful sovereign and Rhaenyra decided to desperately cling to it.

She was the chosen one, even if she had to resort to bastards with dragon blood stained.

“I needed you here.” The queen reproached when she saw you enter the chambers. “Perhaps you have not heard, but we are at war.”