The King's Chambers

Maekar arrived promptly, Vigilance on his hip, favoring his right leg slightly. "Your grace," he said, bowing before the King when he arrived.

"A scratch, nothing more, your grace," Maekar replied, his expression neutral. "We follows a number of leads and one led to a nest of bandits but no further information. What does your grace require of me this day? I heard about my betrothal, and came to collect my bride, before returning to Darkheart."

"I will do my duty, as required, your grace, and I will marry the lady Visenya tomorrow if you wish it, but the Maester suggested that Lady Vira not be moved for several weeks yet; she took a pair of wounds during the fight and is recovering at Darkheart," Maekar replied, frowning for a moment before resuming an impassive expression.

"I trust that your grace forgives my presumption, but it sounds as if your grace has something specific in mind," he added, choosing his words carefully.

"I serve at the pleasure of the King," Maekar replied carefully. He recognized that the King's tone brooked no argument on the date of the wedding, and he wisely chose not to pursue that. The King's second answer was even more ominous than the first, and the wide-open implication was hardly unclear.

"I will return to Darkheart and arrange for Lady Vira to be brought to the capital. With your grace's permission, I would take custody of my own betrothed and take her with me for a few nights, before we return for the weddings," he said.

Maekar nodded. "It will be as you say, your grace," he replied. "We will return within a fortnight, and be wed."

He hesitated for a moment, and spoke again. "I will not try to impede your grace's edict, but the child she carries is mine, and I intend to claim it as such."

Maekar's face did not change, but the rage that radiated from him was nearly palpable. "No. Your grace," he replied, his fist clenched nearly to its breaking point at his side.

Maekar just stared at the King for a moment, his mouth agape. "Why?" he asked simply. The how of it was easy enough; if legitimized he would be the eldest of the King's sons, though he was not sure how his greatest dream of childhood was being handed to him. A decade of hunting traitors had created a suspicious man out of Maekar, and he waited carefully for the King's answer, suspecting a trap.

"Valyrian marriage rites do not allow for a marriage to be dissolved," Maekar said slowly, stating the obvious. "If your grace means me to kill Aenar's daughter that I might marry her grace, the Princess Rhaena, why require us to be wed in the first place? I cannot imagine your grace intends for me to take her grace, the Princess Rhaena as a second wife?" he asked, though he smiled slightly, presumably at the thought of being married to both of them.

"I will do what is necessary, your grace," Maekar replied, steeling his gaze. "And I will not make the same mistake twice. Your grace has my word."

"Perhaps you do not remember," Maekar replied after a long moment of silence, "but I once asked you why I could not be King ahead of Aegon, and you beat me until I could not stand. I asked grandfather the same thing a month later and he beat me worse than you did. I will not be distracted."

"It will be as you say, father," Maekar replied, not quite trusting himself to say more. His entire world had been upside down; two months ago there was nothing more he could have wanted out of life, but now… was Vira worth more than a crown?

"It will be as you say, your grace" he repeated, in a stronger, surer tone.

Maekar turned on his heel and departed for his own chambers.