At that moment, on the sickbed, Aegon II's brow twitched. He opened his eyes.
Those purple eyes were somewhat vacant, taking a long, agonizing moment to focus on Aemond's face finally.
"Aemond..." his voice was as raspy as sandpaper. "
You've come..."
Aemond said nothing. Aegon tried to move, but the slightest motion triggered a violent coughing fit.
Cough, cough, cough
He coughed up a spray of blood that trickled from the corner of his mouth.
A physician hurried forward to wipe it away, but Aegon waved him off, signaling he didn't need it.
He panted for air, staring up at Aemond.
"Sunfyre?" he asked.
"Alive," Aemond said.
Aegon's eyes brightened for a fleeting instant.
"How... how is he?"
"Worse than you. His wing is shattered, his belly was nearly ripped open, and he lost an eye."
Aegon froze. "Blind..."
"He's become a One-Eyed dragon," Aemond said.
"But he lives."
Aegon was silent for a while, then suddenly let out a bitter, rattling laugh.
"I brought this all on myself," he sighed.
"I'm reaping what I sowed. Blame me..."
Aegon raised his eyes to look at his brother.
"And blame you, too..."
Aemond watched him. "Who told you to come?"
Aegon shook his head slightly. "I wanted to come myself. I am the King. I couldn't hide in the back..."
Aemond didn't believe him. "I know you," he said.
"If no one were propping you up, you wouldn't have come."
Aegon fell silent. The tent grew so quiet that one could only hear the ragged sound of the King's breathing.
Aemond waited. After a long while, Aegon finally spoke.
"It was the Faith... and the Citadel."
Aemond's eye narrowed. "Septon Ewen?"
"Yes," Aegon said.
"And that Grand Maester Noren. They said... said I should lead the army personally, that I should prove myself. That I should show the Lords I'm not a waste..."
A bitter smile played across his pale face.
"They said if it were you who won this war, your prestige would only grow higher. That if I didn't stand up now, no one would remember there was even a King."
Aemond said nothing.
"They were right," Aegon laughed bitterly.
"I am a waste. But I didn't want to be one. I also wanted... wanted to be a good King."
Aemond was silent for a long moment.
"I will help you take revenge," he said, looking at Aegon with solemn gravity.
Aegon faltered. "What?"
"The Faith. The Citadel," Aemond said.
"They used you. They must pay the price."
Aegon looked at his brother.
"Am I dying?"
Aemond shook his head slightly.
"Not far from it."
Aegon's face turned even paler.
"If you die," Aemond said softly, "I will send the high leadership of the Citadel and the Faith to accompany you."
Aegon was stunned. He looked at Aemond, at that cold, indifferent face, and suddenly felt his eyes grow hot.
"You..." his voice trembled.
"Are you comforting me?"
Aemond remained expressionless and did not answer. But Aegon knew.
Yes, he was.
This cold-blooded brother, this violent brother, this brother who never seemed to care for anyone, had just offered him comfort.
"Rest easy," Aemond said.
"Recover well. Sunfyre fought to save you; do not let him down."
Aegon nodded. But then he remembered something and asked urgently, "Can Sunfyre truly live?"
Aemond nodded. "I warmed him with my blood."
Aegon was breathless.
"Your blood?"
"It can save," Aemond said.
"So he will live."
Aegon's eyes grew redder. He looked at Aemond, suddenly reached out a trembling hand, and grabbed his brother's arm.
"Thank you..." he said.
"Thank you for saving Sunfyre..."
Aemond said nothing, but he did not pull his arm away from his elder brother's desperate grasp.
Just then, a commotion rose outside the tent. Aemond frowned, turned, and walked out. A crowd had gathered outside the canvas.
Gwayne stood at the front. Behind him was a group of officers, and further back, a dense mass of soldiers.
Unbeknownst to those inside, they had surrounded the tent.
"Prince," Gwayne spoke solemnly.
Aemond looked at them calmly. "What is it?"
Gwayne was silent for a second, then dropped to one knee in the mud.
"Now that His Majesty is gravely wounded and unable to govern," he said, "we ask the Prince to act as Regent."
The officers behind him immediately knelt on one knee.
"We ask the Prince to act as Regent!"
The soldiers looked at one another, then one by one, they knelt.
"We ask the Prince to act as Regent!"
"We ask the Prince to act as Regent!" "We ask the Prince to act as Regent!"
The voices grew louder and more synchronized until they merged into a single, thunderous roar echoing across the camp.
Aemond stood there, saying nothing.
Inside, on the bed, Aegon heard the voices.
He listened to the officers and soldiers shouting with mountain-shaking intensity, his expression complex.
'Regent. Letting Aemond act as Regent.'
'I truly am a useless man…' Aegon thought. Aemond was capable of everything.
Except for being the firstborn... what did he have to compete with Aemond? Why should he try to stop Aemond from taking the reins?
Aegon closed his eyes in resignation, then opened them again.
"Help me up," he said to the physician.
The physician was startled. "Your Majesty, you must rest."
"Help me up first."
With no other choice, the physician helped him sit up, propped against the headboard.
Aegon took a deep breath and shouted toward the outside of the tent: "Aemond."
Aemond walked back in. He looked at Aegon, who was leaning heavily against the bed, but didn't speak.
Aegon looked at him. The two brothers locked eyes.
"Those people outside," Aegon breathed out, "they want you to be Regent. What do you think?"
Aemond was silent for a while. "What do you think?" Aemond asked back.
Aegon II smiled bitterly. "What can I think? Currently, I can't even move. How am I supposed to be King?"
Aemond said nothing.
Aegon II continued. "I know... I know you've always been better than me. Ever since then, it's been like this. You know things I don't. You can do things I can't."
He paused. "But I've never hated you, brother. I only hate myself."
Silence fell heavily between the brothers.
"I hate that I'm useless," Aegon II spoke again.
"Hate that I'm a waste. Hate that even though I wanted to be a good King, I couldn't do anything right."
Aegon II coughed twice, coughing up more blood.
Aemond personally walked over and handed him a silk cloth.
Aegon II took it and wiped the blood from his mouth.
"Aemond," Aegon II said, looking at his brother.
"Mmh?"
"If I die..." Aegon started. Aemond faltered.
"You are better than me. More useful than I. You should be the King."
Aemond was silent for a long time.
"You will not die," Aemond finally spoke.
Aegon II gave a hollow laugh. "How do you know?"
"Because I do not wish for this foolish brother of mine to die," Aemond said.
Aegon froze. He looked at Aemond, at that perpetually cold face, and suddenly felt that, beneath the surface, there was something real.
Was it concern? Did he care? Or was it something else? He didn't know.
He only knew that after hearing those words, he felt much better.
"Aemond," he reached out his hand. Aemond took it.
"Brother," Aegon said, his gaze complex as he patted the back of Aemond's hand.
"You shall be Regent..."
At this moment, Aegon II's heart was at peace.
He had spent every moment worrying that his brother would move against him, but now he realized Aemond seemingly had no desire to kill him.
This made him feel much better; as for whether his brother would usurp the throne in the future, that was a matter for another day.
For now, he was profoundly relieved to know that Aemond still cherished their bond as brothers.
Outside the tent, Gwayne and the officers waited solemnly on their knees.
The tent flap lifted, and Prince Aemond stepped out. Everyone looked up at him.
"His Majesty has issued a verbal decree," Aemond stated.
Every ear perked up.
"From this day forward, I shall serve as Regent."
A second of absolute silence passed, then cheers erupted.
"The Prince Regent!"
"The Prince Regent!"
"The Prince Regent!"
Aemond stood there, expressionless.
But in his heart, there was a trace of deep complexity. He had finally reached this step.
But the price was his brother lying on a sickbed, having nearly died.
He had often thought that if Aegon died, he could take the Throne legitimately.
But in the end, he couldn't bring himself to strike the blow.
He had never viewed Rhaenyra, Rhaenys, or Daemon as his family.
But Helaena, Alicent, Aegon, Daeron... even his weak, late father, Viserys...
These were his family.
-----
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