hotmtlnovel Chapter 563: Baelon Marriage
Chapter 563: Baelon Marriage
Chapter 563: Baelon Marriage
It was common knowledge in the Seven Kingdoms that the Dragonlord had twin sons who looked exactly alike. As the heir to the Iron Throne, the eldest son, Baelon, was a carbon copy of his father in every way. He was praised and favored by the nobles and advisers. Maris, however, had a discerning eye and immediately took a liking to the younger brother, recognizing his unlimited potential.
"Who are you talking about?" Rhaegar was shocked and sat up straight on the Iron Throne. Apart from his brothers, his sons were the only ones in the royal family.
Maris, enthusiastic and with sparkling eyes, looked at Baelon and said bluntly, "Your Grace, you have two other young princes."
Rhaegar's eyelids twitched, and a cold sweat broke out on his forehead. He looked in the direction of her gaze and saw his eldest son, who appeared confused. Baelon walked ahead, clearing a path for his mother and brother, his purple eyes surveying the advisers. He was completely unaware that he had been targeted by the cunning woman.
"Lady Maris, the royal family is grateful for your love, but the two young princes are much younger than you," said Hand of the King Lyonel, stepping forward with sharp words to reject her.
Rhaegar blinked and barely recovered from the shock. He looked at the plain Maris repeatedly, thinking, 'How dare you? Baelon is only six years old and the natural heir to the Iron Throne. How dare you try to marry him as an old woman?'
Rhaenyra, who had just arrived, was also surprised. Her almond-shaped eyes widened, never imagining that a woman would be so bold as to ask for the hand of a young prince in public. Even when Rhaegar was a sweet and lovable boy, he didn't get seduced by Jeyne until he was 13.
"Ahem," Rhaenyra coughed twice to remind them, quickening the pace of the two pairs of twins.
Maris stared at her, immediately forming a rebuttal in her mind: 'Lyonel, you're wrong.'
"The two princes are still underage, and it's not suitable for them to get married," Lyonel continued, standing loyally in front of the king.
Rhaegar looked at him with admiration but worried that he might not be able to refuse Maris too bluntly.
At that moment, Lyonel's bloated figure seemed like a heavy shield. Maris smiled and said, "I'm not in a hurry. I can wait until the Prince grows up." Then, with a glance at Rhaenyra and Jeyne, she boldly continued, "Your Grace and the Queen are eight years apart in age, and there is an even greater age difference between you and Lady Jeyne."
Jeyne's face darkened, and she glared at Maris. 'You're just bringing up the wrong things, aren't you?' Maris pretended not to notice and said with righteous indignation, "I am the same age as Prince Aemond, and I'm not yet old and faded."
In the Four Storms, the late Cassandra was 19 years old, and her three younger sisters were all younger than her. Maris, the second oldest, was under 16 years old, making her 10 years younger than Baelon. Her words were straightforward, and her goal was clear.
Rhaegar's brow furrowed into a knot. He didn't need Lyonel to refute her words; he said bluntly, "Lady Maris, marriage is based on mutual affection. Please pay more attention to the Knights of the Seven Kingdoms, not the heirs of the Iron Throne." 'She really wants to marry an old woman. Impossible, absolutely impossible.'
"Your Grace..." Maris's brain seemed seized by a cramp, and she still wanted to continue her argument.
"Lady Maris, you seem drunk." Before she could finish her sentence, Rhaenyra waved her hand to interrupt and called for the guards. "Take Lady Maris back to rest. If she speaks any longer, the people of King's Landing will have another topic of conversation."
"Yes, Your Grace." The two guards, expressionless, escorted Maris away on either side. Maris looked aggrieved, the tender grass on her lips having flown. As she opened her mouth to protest, she met the combined gaze of Rhaenyra and Jeyne. For a woman, age is a serious disadvantage. Maris had been indiscreet, naming names in front of the royal advisers.
"Father." Daenerys ran up with a flushed face and threw herself into her father's arms like a swallow returning to its nest.
"Come, my little Princess." Rhaegar smiled broadly, picked up his daughter, and placed her on his lap. "You have a family name now," he said happily. He knew that his bloodline would not disappoint. Daenerys looked weak, but she was actually gentle and strong-willed.
"I want one too! You left me behind," Lyanna puffed up her cheeks and held out her two little hands.
"Okay, little one," Rhaegar joked, holding each of his daughters in one arm.
Baelon stood aside, scratching his head. His father had never held him like that. Rhaegar didn't even look at him. Boys had to be strong.
"Father." Baelon's eyes were unusual as he tugged at his father's sleeve. Rhaegar looked down in surprise, receiving a serious look from his eldest son.
Glancing around, he saw Jeyne and Rhaenyra staring at each other from a distance, sparks practically flying from their eyes. Several of the royal advisers were standing in the way, leaning back silently. Lyman, old and weary, bowed his head like a chastened child.
Rhaegar pursed his lips, suddenly unsure whether to feel sorry for the advisers or for himself. The two women were locked in a battle, and in the end, it was he who would suffer.
"Alas," Baelon sighed for his father, like a little lord. Although still young, he understood a lot. Otherwise, he would not have given the dragon egg to Daenerys. It was just a coincidence that the dragon egg hatched in Anna's hands.
Rhaegar raised his eyebrows, noticing the sad look on his eldest son's face. The resemblance to his own young self was striking. 'Who was the first to suggest that Rhaenyra and I follow the traditions of the House?' he wondered, memories flooding back.
Rhaegar's eyes fell on Lyonel as he raised his hand to his mouth and coughed lightly. "Ahem!" The sound echoed through the hall, drawing attention. Lyonel turned his head, looking at the king with a questioning gaze.
Rhaegar had a flash of inspiration and nodded slightly towards Baelon and Daenerys in his arms.
"Hmm?" Lyonel was puzzled at first but then suddenly understood. "Your Grace, Lady Maris is speaking nonsense, but Prince Baelon is the heir and should be considered for marriage in advance."
Rhaegar's lips curled slightly.
No fool can become the Hand of the King, and Lyonel is no exception.
Jasper looked up in surprise. "Prince Baelon is only six years old. Who is he to be engaged to?"
Tormund smiled, understanding the cue. "According to Targaryen tradition, the heir should be chosen from within the royal family."
Lyman and Orwyle, slower to react, nodded in agreement. The topic of choosing an engagement partner for the heir struck a nerve with the nobles. The advisers began to consider it when the Master of Whisperers suggested following tradition.
However, some were determined to win. The Sea Snake straightened his back and, with his usual solemn expression, said, "Your Grace, Lady Baela is of both Targaryen and Velaryon blood and has grown up with Prince Baelon."