Aemond stood at the foot of the stairs that led to the prince's high seat, one hand raised in cool command.
At his gesture, two guards dragged Hidolf forward. The man's wrists were bound, his face scratched by rope and struggle. The guards pulled him toward the archway that led outside to the cliffs, where Vhagar waited with slow, thunderous breaths.
Before Aemond could give the final word, another voice cut across the hall.
"Put him down."
Aegon spoke lightly, but the sound of it cracked like a whip. He rose from his seat and fixed his brother with a hard stare. His wine cup hung loosely from his fingers, yet his eyes were clear and sharp.
Aemond's jaw tensed. He gave a curt nod, and the guards released Hidolf. The rebel stumbled as his feet hit the ground. His chest rose and fell in quick, shallow breaths as he stared at Aemond with lingering terror. Death itself had just brushed past him, cold and unmistakable.
Aegon tilted his head, studying the man before him. "My brother is ignorant. Pay him no mind."
The words came with an amused curve of his lips. He waved lazily toward the attendants gathered by the pillars.
"Bring Hidolf a chair. Bring wine. Treat him like a guest."
Servants hurried forward at his command. A chair was placed. A flagon was uncorked. Hidolf sat stiffly, hands trembling as he accepted a cup.
Aegon descended from his high seat. His steps were unhurried, almost casual, yet each echoed through the chamber. He stopped before Hidolf and folded his arms.
"I value fairness, or at least the appearance of it," Aegon said. "So let me be plain. I did not help your Rebel Army out of charity, nor out of admiration. I only wished to make Tyrosh choke on its own pride."
He watched Hidolf closely, noting the flicker of hope and grinding it down with a faint smile.
"Do not imagine yourselves too important. The two times I intervened were nothing more than an irritation I wished to inflict on Tyrosh. If you gained something from it, that was merely an accident."
He lifted the cup to his lips, drinking slowly. "In truth, your existence means little to me. If you want weapons and food, then give me a reason that truly moves me."
The hall fell very still.
Hidolf swallowed. His face tightened, but he forced his voice steady. "If Your Highness believed in fairness, you would not have burned the granaries and fields of the Lango Highlands."
Aegon laughed softly, a sound edged with contempt.
"Why should that matter to you? I have a dragon. I can burn whatever pleases me."
He leaned closer, one brow lifted. "You speak as if I were beholden to your Rebel Army. Did those granaries belong to you? And tell me this. Without me, would your men have ever reached the Lango Highlands? Would you have broken free of Tyrosh? Would you have avoided being crushed on both fronts by the slave masters?"
Hidolf's lips parted, but no words came. The cup trembled between his fingers. Every point Aegon raised was true, each a stone dropping into still water.
He had been fighting for the interests of the Rebel Army for so long that he forgot a brutal truth. In Aegon's eyes, the Rebel Army was trivial.
Yet Hidolf gathered himself with visible effort. His shoulders squared. His voice steadied.
"Your Highness, we can borrow. The enemy of my enemy is my friend, as you said. You lend us supplies. Once we stand firm, we will repay you twice over."
It was a different tone now. Calculative and Cautious. Testing Aegon's intentions.
Instead of answering, Aegon stepped back and gestured toward the servants to refill his cup. He swirled the wine and watched the deep red liquid spin.
"Let me ask you a few questions. Answer them honestly."
Hidolf blinked, thrown off. "Questions? Of course, ask whatever you wish."
Aegon's voice turned mild. "Why do you rebel? Freedom?"
"Naturally," Hidolf replied without hesitation. "What else is rebellion for if not to break chains and collars and claim freedom?"
"Then tell me what freedom is."
"Freedom is to be unrestrained. To live without shackles or masters. To answer only to oneself." Hidolf spoke with conviction, his hands tightening around the cup.
"A noble idea," Aegon said. "But once you cast off the chains, how will you live? By plundering your neighbors?"
"Of course not. We will grow our own food."
Aegon tilted his head in faint amusement. "How many of your people have ever farmed? How many tools do you possess? How many oxen?"
Hidolf fell silent. His mouth opened, then closed again. Most of his people had apprenticed under slave masters in crafts and trades. Very few had ever harvested grain. And more importantly, they had nothing to sustain them through the months before a first harvest. Hunger would devour them before winter's first frost.
Aegon waved a hand. "Farming is the least of your concerns. Consider something else."
He stepped closer, resting a hip lightly against the table. His gaze sharpened.
"Imagine a flock of sheep who feel the fence restricts their freedom. They break it down together. Would you call that good or bad?"
"Good," Hidolf replied at once. "They are free. They may graze where they please."
"Very good. But suppose a pack of hungry wolves lives outside the fence."
Aegon lifted the cup and finished his wine in one long swallow. The flames reflected in the liquid as he tilted the empty vessel aside.
"The fence is down. The sheep celebrate. The wolves celebrate as well. They will eat well before dawn."
Hidolf stared at the floor, jaw clenched. His breath grew slow. "We are sheep, perhaps, but the slave masters are not wolves."
Aegon nodded. "The Rebel Army are sheep. The slave masters are not wolves. Then tell me this. Where are the wolves?"
Hidolf did not answer. He lifted his head and looked directly at Aegon. The silence stretched, taut as a drawn bowstring.
Then Aegon smiled. It was a thin, knowing smile.
"It does not matter where the wolves are. What matters is that a rare opportunity stands before your Rebel Army."
Hidolf inhaled deeply. "What opportunity?"
"The chance to live in a way that is more free, more stable, more peaceful, and far more prosperous than anything you have ever imagined."
Hidolf's hands tightened around the cup until his knuckles whitened. His eyes flickered with both suspicion and hope as Aegon continued speaking late into the night.
The braziers burned low. The torches guttered. And when dawn finally painted the sky outside in pale silver, Hidolf staggered from the hall with dark circles under his eyes, clutching a small parchment booklet to his chest as if it were a priceless treasure.
Few large characters filled the first page, bold and ink-dark.
The Leader's Struggle.
Hidolf's throat tightened. His heart thundered with emotion. He quickened his steps down the stone path, eager to return to the Lango Highlands and place Aegon's vision in the hands of his waiting rebels.
The future, for the first time, felt within reach.
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A/N: Aegon's ambition has begun to stir.As his power grows, so do his foes, traitors, and enemies rising with blades already drawn.
Will he truly succeed… or be crushed before he can claim it all?
If you want to find out, read ahead on Patreon. 19 advance chapters available, the first 2 are free.
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