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The wall Blackhaven
are unscalable vassalstone.
And the castle is surrounded by a deep, dry moat.
It is well fortified against any future Dornish incursions.
And though my seat may be lesser in size,
it is situated most pleasingly.
The view across the Marches is inspiring,
so said Queen Alysanne herself when she honored my father and I...
And tell me, Lord Dondarrion,
did you think my great-grandmother as beautiful as they say?
This was half a century ago, Princess.
Yes, it was.
That was unseemly, Princess.
The man is older than my father.
It's unseemly for him to put himself forward
as a contender for my hand.
Next!
And now a child.
The Blackwoods are an ancient house with a formidable army.
In the Riverlands, they once ruled as kings.
The blood of the First Men still flows in their veins.
Go on.
My Princess...
ours is a bond that has long endured,
since Lucas Blackwood, the grand sire of my grand sire,
aided the Dragon in his war of conquest...
Aye, the Blackwoods truly turned the tide on that one.
Coursed with the blood of the First Men,
our history is deeply rooted in this land,
which your house has made its home.
If chosen as your match, Princess...
your days shall be easy
and nights safe under my protection.
"Protection"? The Princess has a dragon, you dumb cunt.
Bracken!
I could learn to like that one.
Let us have the next
so we may go to supper.
Craven.
We're leaving.
Sheathe that steel, you twats!
Send word to the harbor and have Captain Oswin ready the ship.
Princess, we're due in Bitter bridge in three days' time.
I would happily row myself back to King's Landing
if it brought an end to this ridiculous pageant.
Don't look, Princess.
We should make landfall inside the hour, Princess.
How do you think he will take it?
Do you speak of how you rejected every suitor
His Grace put before you, or how you abruptly ended the tour
with two months remaining?
Take cover!
Princess!
You all right? Are you?
- Fetch the maester! - I'm fine.
It's Daemon.
Add it to the chair.
You wear a crown.
Do you also call yourself "King"?
Once we smashed the Triarchy,
they named me "King of the Narrow Sea."
But I know that there is only one true king, Your Grace.
My crown and the Stepstones... are yours.
Where is Lord Corlys?
He sailed home to Driftmark.
- Who holds the Stepstones? - The tides...
the crabs, and 2,000 dead Triarchy corsairs,
staked to the sand to warn those who might follow.
Rise.
The realm owes you a great debt, brother.
Come.
This is our chance...
Daemon, he would venture off, abroad,
winning tournaments...
No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no.
I will not revisit this debate.
You were always mother's favorite.
No, it's no great mystery.
You were.
Our mother, she had no regard for custom or tradition, rules.
And I, sadly, was no great warrior.
Congratulations on your victory.
Thank you, Princess.
Perhaps Prince Daemon would care for a tour of the gallery?
He hasn't yet seen the new tapestries
gifted to you by Norvos and Qohor.
Would you like to see the tapestries?
He has no interest in such things.
I'd like to see them.
Then you should not deprive yourself.
I shall enjoy them alone.
More wine.
As I said, you were the favorite.
No, you were. You were. I insist.
I surmise the tour did not go well.
I endured it for as long as I could.
To have every young knight and lord in the Seven Kingdoms fawning over you...
What misery.
It is rare for girls in this realm to get a choice between two suitors,
no less two score of them.
Those men and boys don't fawn over me.
They only want my name and my Valyrian blood for their offspring.
I think it's rather romantic.
How romantic it must be to get imprisoned in a castle
and made to squeeze out heirs.
Sorry.
How angry is he?
The King went through great effort to arrange your tour.
He is... frustrated.
But I am glad you are home.
I find I have few friends lately.
I like to believe I'm still the Lady Alicent, but...
all anyone sees when they look at me now is "The Queen."
I've missed you, too.
So...
what do you want?
Only the comforts of home.
I had not thought you particularly comfortable in this home.
Though I do suppose you seem changed by your adventures.
More mature, perhaps.
You've matured yourself these last four years, Princess.
You'll get used to the attention.
The attention I can endure.
It's the rest I could do without.
My father seems content to sell me off
to whichever lord has the biggest castle.
There are worse things to be sold for.
Such a lonely prospect.
The Stepstones were meant to be won for the realm,
but over the past few days, it seems we have traded
a crabfeeder for a sea snake.
This is clearly a rebuke for passing over Lady Laena for Queen Alicent.
Years have passed since the business with his daughter.
Certainly, he cannot still be wroth?
The Sea Snake is an over-proud man, to be sure, Your Grace.
That pride has been injured.
Perhaps we can salve the wound?
I fear Lord Corlys's pride is the least of our worries.
I don't wish to cause you further distress,
Your Grace, but my brother has sent disturbing word from Oldtown.
Lord Corlys is said to have engaged in negotiations
with the Sea lord of Braavos.
He plans to wed his daughter Laena to the Sealord's son.
If House Velaryon entered into an alliance
with the Free Cities
then...
we would have to seek our own marriage pact.
- Good night, Ser Criston. - Sleep well, Princess.
Where are we going?
Fuck off, boy.
He called me boy.
Do you wish to know your death, child?
Let me take that.
Leave us, all of you.
You have a far kinder touch than they do.
Thank you, husband.
And now we come to the matter of the great Iron Chair...
and whose bum it might bear.
Our good King...
names his daughter,
a girl, his heir.
But then to him, a babe is born.
A son!
To which heir might the chair bear?
Who will it be?
The brother? The daughter?
Or the little princeling of three?
Rhaenyra... the Realm's Delight,
a girl so young and so slight...
loved by all of her people,
but would she make a powerful queen,
- or would she be feeble? - Feeble!
Though Aegon, the babe Prince, might long for a claim,
he has two things Rhaenyra cannot:
a conqueror's name...
and a cock.
Lies, slander! Boo!
Jest if you will,
but many of the smallfolk are like to believe
that, as a male, Aegon should be the heir.
Their wants are of no consequence.
They're of great consequence if you expect to rule them one day.
For one night, I wish to be free of the burdens of my inheritance.
Four coppers, street rat.
In King's Landing, we pay for our pleasures.
- Hey! - Stop! Boy!
Wait, I'll find him.
And who might you be running from, now?
Ser Harwin.
Princess.
Don't.
You take care, boy.
Next time, you might not be so lucky.
Enjoyed that, did you?
Who knows when I'll next taste freedom?
Come.
Pardon me, Your Grace.
The King has requested your presence.
The hour is quite late.
Yes, Your Grace.
What is this place?
It's where people come to take what they want.
Fucking is a pleasure, you see.
For the woman as it is the man.
A marriage is a duty... Yes.
But that doesn't stop us from doing what we want.
From fucking who we want.
Daemon?
Princess?
Princess, are you, are you hurt?
- I should alert the Lord Commander. - No.
My helmet.
You finished?
Thank you.
Stop.
Apologies for the late hour, my Lord.
What is it?
A messenger brings word from the White Worm.
Am I your prisoner?
As I was once yours?
I'm your protector, lucky for you.
This will cut the fog.
I don't need protection from a common whore.
I am not so common.
A not-so-common whore then.
I've left that life behind.
I learned that skin-trade could only take me so far in this life.
You never were one to stay idle.
Hard lessons are not welcomed but suffered.
You can pay for the room on your way out.
Come.
What is it?
I apologize for the early hour, Your Grace.
I have...
discomforting news.
I thought it best shared discreetly before the council convenes.
The Sea Snake.
I'm afraid it concerns the Princess, my King.
Has she been harmed?
It is no easy thing
to tell a father of his daughter's exploits.
I had considered saying nothing, but...
What has she done?
The Princess was spied last evening...
beyond the walls of the Keep...
in a pleasure house.
What of it?
She was carrying on with her uncle.
They were engaged in behaviors unbecoming of a maiden...
of a Princess.
What behaviors?
Well, must I say it, Your Grace?
You enter my bedchamber, accusing my daughter of something.
Now speak it... plainly.
Daemon and Rhaenyra were seen together...
in the bowels of a pleasure den.
Coupling.
This is a lie.
You have been lied to.
I only wish that were true, Your Grace.
Who is responsible for this gossip?
Have this rumormonger brought before me at once.
And I will take their eyes.
As your Hand, I must maintain trusted sources of information.
And this one, as yet, has never led me astray.
And several of the servants have now admitted to seeing her,
the Princess...
creeping through the gates from King's Landing,
disguised as a page
during the hour of the owl.
Are you so sick with ambition
that you would have my daughter stalked?
Spied upon?
Awaiting your best chance to destroy her reputation?
I have no such intent, Your Grace.
You think yourself a cunning man.
Your designs are obvious.
Do you wish to have your blood on the Iron Throne so badly
that you are willing to destroy mine own?
Just get out.
Leave me... at once.
Your Grace.
I'm dressed, Annora. Come.
Princess.
Come.
Princess, I have a message from the Queen.
What happened last night?
What do you mean?
My father has made some worrying allegations about you.
Were you with your uncle?
Oh, I...
I haven't seen him in years.
He took me into the city for some fun.
Tell me the whole of it, Rhaenyra.
Your father accused me of something.
That I drank wine?
Left the castle after dark?
That you fucked Daemon in a pleasure house.
This is a vile accusation.
Is it?
You Targaryens do have queer customs.
- And Daemon certainly knows no limit. - Alicent...
Your Grace, sister, you must know I would,
I would never.
You cannot believe such gossip.
My father is no gossip.
Well, certainly he's been misled.
He could not have witnessed such a thing.
- Why not? - Because it did not happen.
- He was told that you... - Told?
Who made these claims to your father?
I am the Princess.
To question my virtue is an act of treason.
- I do not know specifically... - Your father did not tell you?
He reported it to the King.
I overheard.
So you are accusing me of slanders...
you overheard?
I only want to help you, Rhaenyra.
We drank in a tavern.
Several... taverns.
It was getting late...
and I asked to go home.
But Daemon wished to continue.
As he was my escort, I had no real choice.
"Continue"...
in a brothel?
He took me to a show.
I was only a spectator. I didn't do anything.
And then Daemon sank into his cups and
abandoned me for some whore.
I should've known better.
So you did not?
Must I truly refute that?
Daemon never touched me.
I swear this to you upon the memory of my mother.
It was foolish of you to place yourself in a position
where your virtue could even come into question.
The King has strived to find you a good match.
And so have I.
If that lord were to think that you had been...
sullied...
- it would ruin everything. - I know...
Your Grace.
I regret it.
The King demands an audience, my Prince.
Take your fucking hands off me.
My daughter.
Won't you even deny it?
I need to understand the charge before I can attempt to discredit it.
You defiled her.
Still, you say nothing.
What does it matter, brother?
When we were Rhaenyra's age,
we fucked our way through most of the brothels
on the Street of Silk.
We were young men.
She is just a girl.
- Your niece! - Rhaenyra's a woman-grown.
Better her first experience be with me than some whore.
You fucking...
You have ruined her!
What lord will wed her now? In this condition?
Who gives a fuck what some lord thinks?
You are the dragon. Your word is truth and law.
I have spent a lifetime defending you.
But your heart is even blacker than I thought.
I should disinherit her as I already did you and be done with it.
Wed her to me.
When I offered up my crown, you said I could have anything.
I want Rhaenyra. I'll take her as she is,
and wed her in the tradition of our house.
You are already wed.
That didn't stop Aegon the Conqueror from taking a second wife.
You are no conqueror.
You are a plague... sent to destroy me.
Give me Rhaenyra to take to wife
and we will return the House of the Dragon to its proper glory.
Of course.
It's not my daughter you lust for, is it?
It's my throne.
Go back to the Vale, Daemon,
to your lawful wife.
Strive to restore whatever scrap of honor remains in you.
Or don't. Matters not to me.
As long as you are gone from my sight for good.
As you wish, brother.
Have you spoken to her?
No.
It is not in Rhaenyra's nature to be deceitful.
I cannot say the same for your brother.
You believe he lied?
How often does he speak the pure truth?
How does confessing to such things serve him?
By reducing you.
Whatever transpired, Rhaenyra is not innocent.
Only because Daemon tried to corrupt her.
Daemon and Rhaenyra share the blood of the dragon.
They are restless and chaotic.
She swore to me that she remains a maiden.
And I believe her.
That dagger once belonged to Aegon the Conqueror.
It was Aenar's before that.
And before that...
It is difficult to know.
Before Aegon's death, the last of the Valyrian pyromancers
hid his song in the steel.
"From my blood...
"come the Prince That Was Promised...
and his will be the Song of Ice and Fire."
The responsibility I have handed to you,
the burden of this knowledge...
it is larger than the throne, the king.
It is larger than you
and your desires.
Jaehaerys would've disinherited you.
For a lie?
You've yet to ask me for the truth of what happened.
The truth does not matter, Rhaenyra.
Only perception.
You have exposed yourself.
Now we must both suffer the consequences.
Were I born a man, I could bed whomever I wanted.
I could father a dozen bastards,
and no one in your court would blink an eye.
You are right... but you were born a woman.
So you'll strip me of my titles and name Aegon in my stead.
I would.
But it is mine to hold the realm together, not sow it with further division.
Your courtship is at an end.
You will wed Ser Laenor Velaryon,
and you will do so without protest.
The son of the Sea Snake.
So I can be a remedy for your political headaches.
You are my political headache!
Your wedding to Ser Laenor Velaryon
will unite the two most powerful houses in the realm.
With the combined strength of our shared dragons and naval fleets,
no one would dare to stand against us.
The House of the Dragon
will stand as one for a further generation.
And what will you do about the vulture who perches upon your throne?
What vulture?
Your Hand.
Otto Hightower has served two kings loyally and faithfully.
He wants Aegon to be named heir.
And he will stop at nothing to see it done.
Including spying on me to bring about my ruin.
You speak of The Conqueror's vision
and the need for strength and unity across the realm.
But how can that be accomplished
with your most trusted adviser so self-interested?
Every lord and lady that calls for an audience with me,
every man on my small council,
and all councils past, has been self-interested.
- It is unavoidable. - I disagree.
I will do my duty as heir and wed Ser Laenor.
But you must first do yours as king.
Your Grace.
Five days.
I'm sorry, Your Grace?
Though it was some time ago.
The details... they fade in memory.
My father was a hale and healthy warrior and dragon rider
at the peak of his abilities.
Jaehaerys named a great royal hunt
to celebrate him being named the Hand of the King.
Five days later my father lay dead.
Tourneys last longer.
Baelon the Brave,
rider of Vhagar,
heir to the Iron Throne...
dead of a burst belly.
The gods have a dark wit.
It was a grim day.
- I recall it all too well. - Yeah...
It was a good day for you.
Jaehaerys named you Hand in Baelon's stead.
That's hardly how I viewed it, Your Grace.
It was a duty.
You served my grand sire nobly in his final days.
You are the man that taught me how to be King.
You honor me, Your Grace.
Just five days...
you went from being another man in Jaehaerys's court,
to the second most powerful man in the realm.
I wonder...
how long did it take you to choose yourself over your King?
Your Grace?
I will never recover from Aemma's death.
But Alicent...
she took me through the worst of my grief.
She was a calculated distraction.
I only now realize how well-calculated it was.
That is an absurdity.
The Queen loves you...
as I know you love her.
Your interests no longer align with those of the realm.
Your judgment has been compromised.
A loyal Hand must tell his king
a discomforting truth from time to time, Your Grace.
If he doesn't...
he's failed as a servant.
You were a faithful servant, Otto.
The crown and the realm
both owe you a debt that can never be repaid.
But I can no longer trust your judgment.
Come.
I hope you can forgive the late hour, Princess.
I took great care in its preparation.
If not brewed properly, it can either prove ineffective
- or else bear unpleasant... - Brewed properly?
I'm sorry, what is that?
A tea, Princess.
From the King.
It will rid you of any unwanted consequences.
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