The banners from Jace’s wedding had not yet been removed when Rhaenyra began planning another.
Several still hung from the towers of the Red Keep, their colours faded slightly by wind and salt coming from the Blackwater. Dragons and direwolves remained side by side above the gates, while merchants throughout King’s Landing continued selling ribbons, painted cups, and badly carved wooden figures of Jace and Sara to anyone willing to believe the likenesses were intentional.
The court had barely recovered from the feasts.
Lyman Beesbury had already submitted an account of the celebration’s cost, accompanied by three pages explaining which expenses should never be repeated. Vaeron returned the document with twice as many corrections and a note stating that royal weddings became less expensive when councillors stopped competing over whose table displayed the largest silver centrepiece.
I expected several months of quiet before marriage returned to our chambers.
Rhaenyra granted me six days. She was seated beside the fire when I entered, with two letters, a family record, and a calendar arranged before her. No servant remained nearby. That alone warned me the conversation concerned our children rather than government.
"You are planning something," I said as I removed Orphan-Maker and placed it against the wall.
"I am considering the next responsibility we have delayed."
"That description could apply to most of the realm."
"This concerns Luke."
I sat opposite her. "Has he raced Arrax through the harbour again?"
"No, although I have not ruled out the possibility that he is concealing it more successfully. I am speaking about his marriage to Rhaena."
Their match had existed as an expectation for years without becoming urgent. Lucerys and Rhaena had grown beside one another, first as companions within an extended family and later as two young people who understood that everyone around them assumed companionship would become marriage. Before the war, there had always appeared to be time.
War made time unreliable.
Luke had spent much of the conflict in the Vale, while Rhaena remained separated from him by distance, duty, and the constant possibility that another raven would bring news of a death.
Baela’s fall at Honeyholt changed Rhaena more quietly than grief changed Jace. She did not become withdrawn, but the warmth in her manner carried a greater caution, as though happiness needed to be examined before she trusted it not to disappear.
"They are both of age," Rhaenyra continued. "Luke is sixteen, and Rhaena has reached an age where no one can reasonably claim we are rushing them. The betrothal has been understood for long enough. We should either confirm the marriage or allow them to decide that they no longer want it."
"You believe there is doubt?"
"I believe assuming affection is dangerous merely because an agreement was made when they were younger. We allowed Jace and Sara time to choose one another. Luke and Rhaena deserve the same honesty, even if their match began differently."
That was difficult to oppose.
Rhaenyra and I had been fortunate enough to choose each other. Jace and Sara had been given a narrower choice, yet still received a year in which the political agreement became personal. We could hardly insist that Luke and Rhaena marry simply because everyone had grown comfortable with the idea.
"When would you hold it?" I asked.
"Six months after Jace’s wedding. That gives the realm time to recover from one royal celebration before being required to pay for another."
"Lyman will appreciate the mercy."
"Lyman will object regardless. It reassures him that his office remains necessary."
I looked at the calendar between us. Six months would place the wedding before the next winter weather made travel from the Vale and Driftmark more difficult. It also gave Luke and Rhaena sufficient time to prepare without allowing court speculation to consume another year.
"The match still offers what it always did," I said. "It keeps Driftmark bound closely to the royal family and honours Rhaenys after everything her house lost."
"I do not want Rhaena to believe she is being married as compensation for Baela and Corlys."
"Nor should Luke believe he is being handed the responsibility of healing every wound suffered by House Velaryon."
Rhaenyra rested one hand upon the family record. "That is why we speak to them before announcing anything. If either refuses, the matter ends."
"The council will complain."
"The council has survived greater disappointments."
We summoned Luke and Rhaena the following afternoon.
The conversation took place in our private solar rather than before the Small Council. Luke arrived first, still wearing the light training armour he used during sessions with the household knights.
He had inherited enough of my appearance that no one could mistake whose son he was, though there was more openness in his expression than I had possessed at sixteen. The Vale had taught him patience, but not the instinct to conceal every thought before it reached his face.
Rhaena entered several minutes later beside Rhaenys.
Her grandmother did not remain. She greeted us, looked once towards Rhaena, and withdrew without attempting to influence what followed. That restraint must have cost her something. After losing Corlys and Baela, the marriage of her surviving granddaughter carried significance beyond politics.
Luke glanced between the documents upon the table and Rhaena. "This appears more serious than another discussion about my duties at Dragonstone."
"It concerns a duty you have both known about for years," Rhaenyra said. "Your proposed marriage."
Neither looked surprised. They looked at one another instead.
Rhaenyra continued before silence became discomfort. "The match was arranged when you were younger, before either of you could understand what it might require. We will not treat childhood agreement as adult consent. If either of you no longer wishes to marry, you may say so now without punishment or resentment."
Luke’s expression sharpened. "Has someone objected to the match?"
"No," I said. "This is not a concealed warning that the arrangement has become inconvenient. Your mother and I intend to confirm that the marriage is still something you both want."
Rhaena folded her hands in her lap. "I assumed the wedding would follow Jace’s eventually."
"Assumption is what we are attempting to avoid," Rhaenyra replied. "You have lived through a war, spent long periods apart, and changed since the betrothal was first discussed. Duty may remain, but duty alone does not tell us whether you can build a household together."
Luke turned towards Rhaena fully. "I have never wanted the match ended."
The words came quickly, though not carelessly. Rhaena watched him. "You spent most of the war in the Vale. We exchanged letters, but letters allow people to appear more thoughtful than they are."
"That accusation seems directed at me."
"It is directed at both of us. I often rewrote mine after deciding the first version sounded unreasonable."
Luke’s tension eased slightly. "I usually sent the first version and regretted it after the raven was already carrying the message."
"I noticed."
Their familiarity answered part of the question before either gave a formal response.
Luke leaned forward, his forearms resting upon his knees. "I know that our marriage began as an arrangement between our families. That does not make it unwanted. Rhaena knows me well enough to recognise when I am pretending confidence, and she has never treated my position as more important than the choices I make while holding it. I would marry her even if no one had proposed it years ago."
Rhaena did not immediately answer. Grief moved beneath her composure when she looked towards him, though she did not allow it to control the conversation.
"Baela believed she would marry Jace," she said. "For most of our childhood, the four of us imagined the future as though every part had already been decided. She would stand beside the heir. I would stand beside Luke. Driftmark, Dragonstone, and the crown would remain joined. After Honeyholt, I stopped trusting futures merely because everyone expected them."
Luke’s expression softened. "I cannot promise that nothing will be taken from us. No one could make that promise honestly after the war."
"That is not what I need."
"What do you need?"
"I need to know that you are marrying me because you want me, rather than because losing Baela made preserving the remaining arrangement more important."
Luke considered his answer before speaking. "Her death made me understand how quickly assumed futures can disappear. It did not make me want you out of fear. I wanted you before the war. I simply thought there would always be enough time to say it later."
Rhaena lowered her gaze for a moment. When she looked back at him, some of the caution had eased. "That was almost well said."
"I had several months in the Vale to improve."
"Your letters did not show the same progress."
"They had to cross mountains. Perhaps the better sentences were damaged during the journey."
Rhaenyra’s fingers brushed mine beneath the table. Neither of us interrupted.
Rhaena finally turned towards us. "I still agree to marry Luke. I would not have remained silent if I wanted the arrangement ended."
Luke smiled before attempting to recover the dignity expected of a prince. Rhaenyra allowed him to fail.
"Then we propose holding the wedding six months after Jace and Sara’s," she said. "That gives both households time to prepare and allows you to decide what form the ceremony should take. Driftmark must be represented properly, but the celebration will not become a contest with your brother’s wedding."
Luke looked relieved. "I would prefer something smaller."
"Smaller is a word every royal family uses before inviting several hundred people," I said. "You may still attempt it."
Rhaena glanced towards him. "Rhaenys will expect the Velaryon fleet to attend."
"The ships can remain in the harbour."
"She may insist they be dressed."
Luke’s expression became resigned. "Then the ships will likely wear more silk than I do."
By the time they left, the wedding had ceased to be an old promise and become a date towards which both were willingly moving.
The announcement was made two days later.
The court received it with enthusiasm made easier by predictability. No lord had spent months advancing another candidate for Luke, and no region could claim injury because a long-established Targaryen and Velaryon match had been preserved.
Rhaenys accepted the date on Rhaena’s behalf before reminding the council that Driftmark would organise its own delegation rather than allow royal stewards to decide which captains deserved places.
Lyman asked whether one royal wedding could reuse decorations from another. Rhaenyra told him he was welcome to explain that suggestion to Rhaenys personally. The matter was not raised again.
Preparations began gradually. Rhaena divided her time between Driftmark and King’s Landing, consulting with Rhaenys, Addam, and Alyn about which traditions should be preserved.
Life within the Red Keep settled around the approaching celebration.
Our younger children resumed lessons interrupted by the war and then disrupted again by Jace’s wedding. Aerion complained that royal marriages reduced the quality of his sword training because too many knights were reassigned to ceremonial duties.
Viserys spent more time among the dragonkeepers than his tutors approved. Aemma and Jaehaera continued forming alliances against every servant attempting to keep them from restricted corridors, while Jaehaerys tried to appear above their schemes before joining whenever discovery seemed unlikely.
Maelor followed all of them and betrayed everyone with equal enthusiasm.
Helaena’s presence had become ordinary enough that courtiers no longer fell silent whenever she entered a room. Alicent travelled again to Oldtown, where Daeron continued dismantling the last resistance hidden inside old offices and inherited obligations. She promised to return before Luke’s wedding, though she admitted that Daeron required help preparing Oldtown’s contribution to the royal fleet.
Across the realm, recovery continued without spectacle.
Oscar Tully’s men rebuilt roads through Bracken lands now governed from Stone Hedge. Tyland delivered another portion of the western reparations. Vaeron sent increasingly irritated letters from the Arbor concerning vintners who could remember the ownership of every vine planted during the past century but claimed ignorance whenever tax assessors appeared.
Three months passed.
The weather had begun warming when Jace and Sara requested a private audience one evening. They had returned from Dragonstone earlier that day, having spent several weeks inspecting the island and discussing which apartments would become their permanent household once Jace assumed more of his duties as Prince of Dragonstone.
I expected another disagreement about repairs.
Dragonstone had endured decades of salt, smoke, neglect, and generations of Targaryens convinced stone maintained itself through ancestral importance. Jace had already sent three sets of estimates to Vaeron, while Sara argued that the castle required more practical storerooms and fewer chambers preserved because some dead prince once slept within them.
They entered our solar together. Jace appeared unusually composed. Sara appeared amused by his effort.
Rhaenyra noticed before I did. "You have news," she said, setting aside the letter she had been reading. "Jace has been attempting not to smile since he entered."
"I am not attempting anything," he replied.
Sara took the chair opposite us. "He spent the walk here deciding how the announcement should be delivered. Every version became more formal than the last, so I told him that I would speak if he continued."
Jace sat beside her. "I wanted to give the matter the dignity it deserves."
"You were beginning to sound like Vaeron reading a succession decree."
"That would at least prevent confusion."
I looked between them. "Unless Dragonstone has collapsed since this morning, I assume the news is personal."
Sara rested one hand against her stomach. The movement was slight, but Rhaenyra understood immediately. Her breath caught before either of them spoke.
"I am with child," Sara said. "The maester believes it has been nearly two months. We waited until he was sufficiently certain before telling anyone."
For several heartbeats, the room became completely still. The succession had occupied so many conversations as law, politics, inheritance, and threat that I had nearly forgotten it could also arrive as something small and unseen, carried quietly by a young woman seated before us.
Rhaenyra rose first. She crossed the space between them and embraced Sara with enough care that affection overcame her instinct to treat pregnancy as fragility. Sara accepted it, though surprise showed briefly upon her face.
"This is wonderful news," Rhaenyra said when she released her. "How have you been feeling?"
"Tired more often than I expected. Certain foods have also begun offending me merely by existing nearby."
"Which foods?"
"Fish, unfortunately. Dragonstone has interpreted that as a personal insult."
Jace smiled. "She made me remove supper from the chamber before she would speak to me."
"The child possesses sound judgement already," I said.
Jace stood when I approached. He had faced armies, negotiated with Cregan Stark, fought in the Riverlands, and married before half the realm. The pride upon his face now was less guarded than anything I had seen during those victories.
I clasped the back of his neck and pulled him into an embrace. "You are going to be a father."
"I know."
The quiet answer carried wonder beneath it. When I released him, I turned towards Sara. "You have given the realm news it will attempt to turn into public property. We will keep the announcement within the family until you decide you are ready."
"I would appreciate several days before lords begin discussing names, inheritance, and whether I am carrying a boy loudly enough for me to hear."
Rhaenyra returned to her seat, though she kept hold of Sara’s hand. "They will discuss it regardless. They do not need access to you while doing so."
Jace looked towards his mother. "The child strengthens the succession."
"It does," she replied. "That will be the council’s first concern. It does not have to be ours tonight."
He nodded, visibly relieved. For one evening, we spoke not of claims or alliances but of healers, chambers, travel, and how long Sara intended to remain upon Dragonstone before returning to the capital.
Rhaenyra warned Jace against treating every moment of discomfort as an emergency. Sara informed us that he had already attempted to summon the maester because she slept beyond midday after a poor night’s rest.
Jace defended himself through the reasonable argument that exhaustion could indicate illness.
Sara replied in a single complete sentence that if he summoned a maester every time pregnancy made her tired, Dragonstone would soon require another maester solely to treat the first one for overwork.
By the time they departed, Rhaenyra was still smiling. We stood together near the window after the door closed. Below us, King’s Landing continued its ordinary evening, unaware that the royal line had already begun extending beyond Jace.
"In three months, Luke will marry Rhaena," Rhaenyra said. "Before that wedding takes place, the court may learn that Jace is expecting his first child."
"The singers will claim we planned it."
"The singers believe rulers plan everything that ends well."
I placed an arm around her. Only a few years earlier, the question of succession had drowned the realm in blood. Now our eldest son was married, another wedding approached, and somewhere within Sara a new life had begun without armies, proclamations, or men gathering beneath rival banners.
The realm was still healing. Our family was doing something more difficult.
It was continuing.