A Hidden Chamber, The Sept of King's Landing.
At this moment, inside a hidden chamber within the Sept in King's Landing, the candles had already been lit.
Aegon II sat in a chair, feeling that its seat was even more uncomfortable than the Iron Throne.
"Your Grace need not be nervous," Septon Ewen said with a benevolent smile.
"There are no spies of the Prince here. Rest easy; I give you my word."
Aegon II did not respond, merely stealing a glance at Aelyn beside him.
Queen Aelyn held her husband's hand; the warmth of her palm provided King Aegon with a slight sense of peace.
"Your Holiness," Queen Aelyn spoke up on her husband's behalf.
"We came out under the pretext of praying to the Seven. We do not have much time."
"Understood, understood," Septon Ewen nodded before turning to Grand Maester Noren.
Noren bowed slightly.
"Your Grace," his voice was low and steady.
"It is an honor for the two of us to be received by you."
Seated in his position, Aegon II offered a perfunctory "Mm" but remained silent.
Even though his leg injury had healed, he habitually kept that leg stretched out straight, feigning difficulty in movement.
Only his wife, Queen Aelyn, knew the truth; even Aemond didn't know... or at least, Aegon hoped he didn't.
"Your Grace," Septon Ewen began, "the reason we invited you here secretly today is to discuss a certain matter."
"What matter?"
"Regarding your Throne."
Aegon II's fingers twitched. He pointed at the two men opposite him.
Don't speak in riddles with me. If you have something to say, say it quickly."
Septon Ewen sighed, his benevolent expression taking on a touch of gravity.
"By the Seven, Your Grace, you are the successor designated by the late King. I crowned you at the Hill of Visenya; you are the Monarch recognized by the Seven Kingdoms. But what is the reality now?"
Aegon said nothing.
"The Small Council," Septon Ewen continued, "the Hand is Tyland Lannister; he is Prince Aemond's man. The Master of Coin is Will Simmons, a dog the Prince plucked from the gutters of Flea Bottom. The Master of Whisperers is Larys Strong; though he claims to be close to you, does he dare say a single 'No' to Aemond?"
"Your Holiness," Aegon II cut in.
"What exactly are you trying to say?"
Septon Ewen and Grand Maester Noren exchanged a look.
Noren took a step forward, his voice dropping even lower.
"Your Grace, both the Citadel and the Faith are willing to support you. Not as a puppet... but as Aegon Targaryen, Second of His Name, the legitimate Sovereign of the Seven Kingdoms."
Hearing this, Aegon II tensed his body, his violet eyes staring at them nervously.
"Support me in doing what?"
"Reclaiming your power."
A silence followed. The candle flames in the cellar flickered. Queen Aelyn, still holding his hand, gave Aegon's palm a light squeeze.
Aegon knew what the Queen meant: agree, agree quickly.
But he didn't.
"Aemond is my own brother," he said.
"We know," Grand Maester Noren and Septon Ewen nodded.
"I saved him once, and he saved me. We are brothers of the same blood..."
"We know that as well," Noren nodded again.
"Your Grace's emphasis on loyalty and affection is a virtue."
"And yet you want me to seize power from my own brother?"
Grand Maester Noren was silent for a moment, then suddenly smiled.
"Your Grace, you misunderstand. We are merely helping you take back the power that is rightfully yours. The power belonging to a King. We are not asking you to harm Prince Aemond. We only hope that the King of the Seven Kingdoms truly sits in the King's seat. You surely do not wish to be overshadowed by your younger brother for the rest of your life?"
Aegon II fell into silence, his expression a map of conflicting emotions.
Seeing Aegon hesitate, Septon Ewen immediately interjected.
"Your Grace, think on it. Your brother, Prince Aemond, is only sixteen, yet he is the Prince of Rook's Rest, a rider of two dragons, and the actual controller of the Small Council. The Prince is very capable and hardworking; we all admit this. But..."
He paused, his voice tinged with worry.
He is too capable. Capable to the point of being terrifying."
Aegon II frowned. "What are you afraid of?"
"We fear a repetition of Maegor's history..."
Those words were like a needle piercing Aegon's heart. Maegor, "Maegor the Cruel."
He had murdered his nephew Aegon and usurped the Throne from the scions of his deceased elder brother, Aenys.
"My brother is not Maegor," Aegon II said, taking a breath.
"Perhaps not yet," Noren nodded.
"But Your Grace, he has already committed kinslaying. You must remember that Jacaerys, Lucerys, and Joffrey were your nephews..."
"Enough," Aegon interrupted.
Noren and Septon Ewen fell silent, but their eyes remained fixed on Aegon.
Aegon stood up from his seat, still holding the Queen's hand. He moved to leave, then suddenly stopped.
"Everything you've said, I know," he said with his back to them, his voice dropping.
"But... Jacaerys... they were our enemies... they were arsonists and dragon-thieves... he only killed traitors..."
"Your Grace," Septon Ewen spoke softly.
"There is another man who is exactly the same."
"Who?"
"Prince Daemon."
Aegon's back stiffened.
Ewen continued: "Prince Daemon, the late King's brother and Rhaenyra's husband. He is also a fighter, riding dragons, waging war, killing men; he excels at it all. How many has he killed? Countless. How cruel is he when his blood is up? The people of Flea Bottom know his name is enough to stop a child's crying at night."
He took a step forward, his voice a low whisper.
"Your Grace, think carefully. When this war reaches its end, regardless of who wins, who will be the person left standing?"
Aegon said nothing.
"It will be either Aemond or Daemon," Ewen said, one word at a time.
"Both of them are equally ruthless, equally mad. When that time comes, who will truly be the master of the Seven Kingdoms?"
Hearing this, Queen Aelyn turned pale, her hand gripping Aegon's with a deathly tightness. Aegon turned around to face them.
"We support you, Your Grace," Grand Maester Noren urged.
"Not because you are more capable than Prince Aemond. To be honest, you may not be as capable as he is. We support you because you are the legitimate King of the Seven Kingdoms, and because you follow the teachings of the Seven. Because you will let the Maesters teach, the Septons preach, the nobles rule their lands, and the smallfolk live their lives."
Aegon was silent for a long time. He spoke slowly.
"Aemond treats me like a puppet; do you intend to treat me like one as well?"
Septon Ewen blinked, then smiled.
"Your Grace, what a thing to say. Would a puppet ask such a question? Your Grace, in our eyes, you are a good man."
Aegon did not smile.
Noren picked up the thread: "Your Grace, we only need you to do one thing."
"What?"
"Please, let us help you."
Aegon looked at him.
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