Chapter 68 - The Coronation (III)

Chapter 68 - 68 - The Coronation (III)"Don't underestimate people's faith, their self-centeredness can make real empires collapse under the weight of religion." Aenar Targaryen thinking about the Bible on his lap.

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The news of the attempted assassination of the Son of Light, the messiah of these people, the one who transformed their lives, brought freedom to the slaves and hope to the oppressed, aroused an overwhelming fury in the heart of every devout believer. For them, this was more than a crime: it was an unforgivable blasphemy against their faith.

What followed was absolute chaos. Everything related to the Old Blood behind the Black Walls was stoned, destroyed and vandalized. Popular anger took on such frightening proportions that even the most powerful trembled before it.

Under the influence of Aenar's manipulative doctrine, spread by his fanatical interpretation of the sacred scriptures, the people stopped acting like individuals: they became a sharp blade, ready to obey him without question.

Under Benerro's orders, twenty thousand of the Red Legion's forty thousand soldiers took to the streets, marching towards the imposing Black Walls.

The gates, apparently impenetrable, proved useless in the face of internal treachery. Spies, disguised as slaves in the service of Valyria's descendants, turned against their masters without hesitation, seduced by the irresistible promise of sweet freedom.

(Note: I'll change the name of the Red Army to the Red Legion).

Twenty thousand men stormed the Black Walls, entering a place reserved only for the Descendants of Valyria and their slaves.

What followed over the next few hours was a display of pure brutality, as cruel as it was ruthless. There was no looting or rape, just methodical extermination without discrimination.

Men, women, the elderly and children all met a quick and painless death, the only form of mercy that Aenar granted them, as he wished to eliminate any potential threat to his power in the future.



The other Noble Houses descended from Valyria, observing the destruction, were gripped by absolute terror. After almost three hundred years of complacency in their dreamlike dreams, they finally woke up to the harsh reality.

For the first time, they understood that the world was not as glorious as they had imagined, and that they themselves were not as important as they had believed themselves to be.

The false glory of Ancient Valyria, which they had so revered and preserved, turned out to be as fragile as paper, easily torn and destroyed.

Daenerys couldn't hide her dissatisfaction at the indiscriminate killing ordered by Aenar, especially of children.

Taking the lives of such innocent beings aroused a deep sense of desolation in her. They posed no threat, but were killed without hesitation by men who blindly followed Aenar's orders.

Not even the huge wagons crammed with gold and jewels, constantly entering the Great Temple of Volantis, brought any satisfaction. For Daenerys, those mountains of riches were stained with the blood of the innocent.

Standing on the balcony of the King's Room, she watched Volantis. Her eyes were fixed on the city, which was gradually being swallowed up by the gloom of night.

"Are you sad?"

Daenerys heard Aenar's voice behind her, but she didn't turn to face him or answer his question.

Sensing her indifference and aware that the massacre order still troubled his future queen, Aenar smiled softly and positioned himself next to her on the balcony.

"Of Malaquo's four children and countless grandchildren, all would eventually try to kill us," he said, his tone calm, his eyes lost in the endless timelines. "The cycle of hatred began the moment I killed the Triarch, and was brought to an end by destroying all of House Maegyr."

Aenar raised his hand and, with a delicate gesture, grasped Daenerys' chin, directing her gaze to his. "No matter how many generations passed, their hatred would take root in their blood. It would be passed down from father to son, from grandson to great-grandson. An endless cycle."

He stroked her cheek with his fingers before continuing, his voice as gentle as a whisper. "I just saved us a lot of headaches in the future." Then he leaned down and placed a light kiss on the center of her forehead.

Aenar's touch and his words seemed to dissolve Daenerys' resistance. She let herself be enveloped by him, leaning her body against his and resting her head on his chest. Her turbulent feelings subsided, appeased by her blind trust in Aenar. Knowing his ability to see into the future, she believed he was telling the truth.

But although Aenar hadn't lied, his explanation wasn't entirely true. There were descendants of House Maegyr who didn't want revenge, who just wanted to live in peace. Yet he had ordered their hunting and execution.

Why had he done so? Because, although it was a remote possibility, perhaps some descendant of Maegyr would become a powerful figure, or even an apostle of some god, bringing trouble that could be avoided before it even began.



"Daenerys, I want your help." Aenar spoke, causing Daenerys to look at him with a hint of surprise reflecting in her eyes.

"What is it, nephew?" Daenerys asked.

"I can see the future. I've witnessed so many deaths that even if I lived a thousand lifetimes, I couldn't count them all." Aenar spoke, his hand holding Daenerys' face lovingly. "Because of that, death is something banal to me and something I can order without any weight on my conscience."

"I could very well order the death of everyone in Volantis and feel absolutely nothing about it." Aenar continued speaking in a soft tone. "Death for me has become as natural as breathing, so I want you, Visenya and Rhaenys to be my light in this sea of darkness. Question me, fight with me, don't hesitate to speak your mind. Because my kingdom isn't just mine, it's ours"

Daenerys felt her heart almost burst with emotion, the feelings inside her oscillating between deep anguish and intoxicating sweetness.

Aenar's words weighed on her in unexpected ways: on the one hand, she wanted to share the burden he carried; on the other, she found the trust he showed by including her in something so important incredibly sweet.

She even chose to ignore the fact that Aenar had mentioned Rhaenys.

Kissing Aenar's lips with a deep kiss, Daenerys ended the kiss with a feeling of reluctance and spoke with an incredibly determined tone. "Yes, I will never let you lose yourself and become a monster who only knows how to kill and destroy."

Aenar smiled and hugged Daenerys, both of them enjoying the cool late afternoon breeze that was gradually becoming colder.

In Rhaella's room, the three women of House Targaryen were chatting animatedly. Visenya and Rhaenys, in particular, seemed to have formed an almost natural bond between them, which was surprising considering they had only met a few hours ago.

"Why isn't Aunt Daenerys here?" asked Rhaenys, her voice laden with curiosity.

Visenya replied in a casual tone, but there was a subtle hint of envy in her voice that didn't go unnoticed: "It's Dany's night to be with Aenar."

Rhaenys immediately regretted asking the question.

Visenya, for her part, didn't seem to mind the discomfort she had caused. She liked sleeping cuddled up with Aenar. That feeling of warmth, comfort and security in his arms was something she would never tire of. When she was with him, it seemed as if nothing in the world could hurt her.

She deeply valued that feeling, given that she had never really felt safe once in her life. But Aenar's arms could provide that feeling she had tried to want when she was growing up.

"You share a bed with him on separate nights!?" exclaimed Rhaenys, her voice laden with astonishment as she caught the implication in Visenya's words.

The sudden realization struck her like a thunderbolt: the two of them were her own brother's lovers!!!



Rhaenys had noticed their closeness in the Throne Room, but had never imagined that they had both become Aenar's wives.

"Yes, but we haven't consummated the marriage yet. I want to wait until after he becomes king," replied Visenya, her pale cheeks taking on a reddish hue at the mention of marriage.

Although a smile remained on Rhaenys' face, inside she was consumed by anger and an intense feeling of possessiveness. She had been the first to meet Aenar, the first to win his attention. Yet, in a matter of months, he had been taken from her, divided between others. How could she not feel this way?

Rhaella, watching the conversation between her daughter and granddaughter, couldn't help but roll her eyes at the passing envy in Rhaenys' eyes. Visenya couldn't have noticed, but she, an experienced woman, did almost immediately.

However, Rhaella said nothing. She was having fun watching this love triangle develop. Call it anything, but entertainment is rare in her life.

"Aenar's coronation is in two days, Lady Kinvara has sent numerous dresses for us to choose from for the ceremony." Rhaella spoke, making the two young women's attention focus on her.

Visenya's violet eyes sparkled as she listened to her mother's words. Obviously, they would be properly dressed for such an important occasion. Rhaenys wasn't immune to her grandmother's words either.

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