001.
𝖽𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁 𝗈𝖿 𝖺 𝗊𝗎𝖾𝖾𝗇

"You must remarry, my king," his hand says. "You must have an heir— or else the entire war has been for naught."

Aegon didn't reply, bringing his cup back to his mouth, feeling the rich essosi wine.

After Helaena threw herself off the windows of Maegor's holdfast, he had been unresponsive. He didn't know what to say, what to do. He never cared much for Helaena. Mayhaps if his mother had let him and Helaena simply be siblings, he could've loved her as a brother.

But his mother was cruel, and so was he.

He was not a good husband, he knew that. He chuckled, practically the whole realms knew that.

Aye, he was a shit husband.

After the dance, he had married Maris Baratheon. He had hoped he would lay with her less then he did his sister, but even Helaena was better then his second wife. At least with Helaena, she had gotten with child fast. While Maris had an unknowing womb. It had taken them one year for her to grow with child, before it perished. Two years later, she became pregnant once again, yet it perished.

Aegon was never meant to have any children, and the gods agreed. Mayhaps it was the price he had to pay for being a kinslayer.

kinslayer, his half-sister had said to him. you have doomed our house and will continue to do so. you have no true idea what why father named me his heir instead of his first born son. and you will never know either. it dies with me.

He remembers Jaehaerys and Maelor. Jaehaerys was a lively thing, and Aegon remembers when he had demanded to spend time with him. But he was dead, and died a painful death. As did Maelor. Maelor had been trampled to death by the people of king's landing.

He didn't react to his death. He didn't care anymore.

Yet Maris had gotten with child a last time, a son had been born, an heir. But Maris perished in childbed, and his son a few days later.

The realm desperately needed an heir. Aegon knew this but he didn't give a damn.

"My king—"

Aegon threw his cup on the council chambers and stormed out, not wishing to hear anything that came out from his grandsire's mouth.

He needed a whore.

━━━━━━━━

"My king!" a voice shouted outside Aegon's chambers. He groans and rubs his head.

Gods, he thinks. He must have drunk himself to obliviation again.

Nothing new. But wine is the only thing that makes him forget. Forget about his wretched life.

More strong knocks forced Aegon to groan. He looks to his side and noticed the whore he had brought had left. He didn't care. Honestly, he doubt Lord Baratheon would have been happy to hear the king had bedded a whore not long after his daughter's death.

"King Aegon," his grandsire said, walking inside his chambers even though Aegon had not allowed him to. "We have gotten the most important news,"

Aegon rolls his eyes. He does not even know why he has been given any news. His grandsire was the one acting as king— as he always had wanted.

"We have gotten word of a man claiming he has princess Lucaena,"

Aegon stares at him by loss of words. Lucaena? Was she truly alive? Her disappearance had caused an uproar after all— Lucaena was deeply beloved by the people. More so then Helaena.

Lucaena Velaryon, the girl he had always had his eyes for? Gods, it was a different time back then. When his father was alive he was quite fond of her, Aemond even more so. But Aemond as always was a cunt and had to kill Jacaerys.

"Find her. I want her brought to me,"

Aegon never believed in the gods, but now he prays she is alive. She would have to marry him of course. And he hopes the girl the man claims to be Lucaena is his niece.

So he does not have to be alone alone anymore.

━━━━━━━━

"Release me now!" Lucaena shouts, trashing around the hold of the man. "I am not the one you're looking for!"

The unknown man lets out a laugh. "Like shit you aren't. I would've known those eyes anywhere. Yes I'll bet you a thousand golden dragons that you are Lucaera Velaryon." He looks her up and down and clicks his tongue while raising a brow. "You certainly have the body and face for it."

"You are wrong! You have the wrong girl!"

The man lets out a grunt and pushes her against a nearby wall, away from prying eyes. His eyes were hard and she had to remind herself that he could crush her fucking head if he wanted to.

"I remember you. I saw you at the streets of Flea Bottom giving out food to those orphan children. I remember your face," he smirks then. "Like I said— I would have remembered a face and body like yours."

He then shuts her up by stuffing a dirty rag in her mouth.

Lucaera continues pleading with the man to release her. She couldn't be brought back to Aegon. She couldn't. No she had run away. She had to. She refuse to go back.

When she saw the booming sight of kings landing, she knew there was no way she would ever leave.

━━━━━━━━━━
𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙧'𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚: 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝖾𝗀𝗈𝗇, 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅. 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝖨 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝖺 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗋𝗒 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗂𝖿 𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝖽 𝗐𝗈𝗇, 𝗒𝖾𝗍 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗀𝖺𝗋𝗒𝖾𝗇𝗌 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗌𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗇 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗎𝗅𝗍. 𝖨 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗉𝗎𝗇𝗂𝗌𝗁 𝗁𝗂𝗆. 𝖡𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾, 𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝖾𝗅𝗍 𝖺𝗅𝗈𝗇𝖾, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝖺𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾, 𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗍𝗋𝗎𝗅𝗒 𝖺𝗅𝗈𝗇𝖾. 𝖧𝖾 𝖽𝗂𝖽𝗇'𝗍 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝗒 𝖿𝖺𝗆𝗂𝗅𝗒 𝗅𝖾𝖿𝗍. 𝖠𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗂𝗍𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿 𝗍𝗈𝗈𝗄 𝖺 𝗍𝗈𝗅𝗅 𝗈𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗆.

𝖱𝗁𝖺𝖾𝗇𝗒𝗋𝖺 𝗂𝗌 𝗋𝖾𝖿𝖾𝗋𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗉𝗁𝖾𝖼𝗒, 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝗋𝗂𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗆𝗂𝗌𝖾𝖽. 𝖧𝖾𝗋 𝖿𝖺𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗈𝗅𝖽 𝗂𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗈 𝗉𝖺𝗌𝗌 𝗂𝗍 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗈 𝗈𝗇. 𝖡𝗎𝗍 𝖱𝗁𝖺𝖾𝗇𝗒𝗋𝖺 𝖽𝗂𝖾𝗌 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗍𝖾𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗇𝗒𝗈𝗇𝖾. 𝖲𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗉𝗁𝖾𝖼𝗒, 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗈𝗅𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝖠𝖾𝗀𝗈𝗇 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖽𝗈𝗆𝗌, 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗅𝗈𝗌𝗍.

𝖩𝖺𝖾𝗁𝖺𝖾𝗋𝖺 𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗅𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝖻𝗍𝗐.