-Good morrow, Lady Rhea. -Cousin.
What's today's quarry? Rabbit?
-Deer. -Fine challenge.
Care for some company?
I'd rather ride alone.
Good fortune to you.
Husband.
What brings you to the Vale?
Or have you at last come to consummate our marriage?
The Vale's sheep might be willing,
even if I'm not.
Our sheep are prettier, after all.
Or perhaps your brother has at last had his fill of your company.
Cast you aside in favor of a little girl.
What will you do now?
Will you strike the child down?
Or?
I knew you couldn't finish.
Craven!
Thank you.
A moment.
I do not wish to see you go.
Such is the King's decision.
A decision I most bitterly regret.
And yet, you made it possible.
You chose Rhaenyra.
She swore her innocence,
and I believed her.
You wanted to believe her, as did her father.
Your informant was wrong.
An honest mistake, perhaps, but I did not foresee this!
You should have.
If you had not been so relentless in advancing Aegon as heir!
Listen to me, daughter.
The King will die.
It may be months or years, but he'll not live to be an old man.
And if Rhaenyra succeeds him,
war will follow, do you understand?
The realm will not accept her.
And to secure her claim,
she'll have to put your children to the sword.
She'll have no choice.
You know it.
You're no fool, and yet you choose not to see it.
The time is coming, Alicent.
Either you prepare Aegon to rule,
or you cleave to Rhaenyra and pray for her mercy.
Where is Lord Corlys? He should be here to receive the King.
Welcome to High Tide, Your Grace.
What is the meaning of this, Lady Laena?
Is this how House Velaryon greets its King?
My father has but just returned from his long journey
and he has hastened to the Hall of Nine
to await Your Grace's arrival.
Let's just get on with it.
An outsider...
among the natives.
Lord Larys.
Malvales.
A rare bloom.
Indigenous to Braavos.
By all rights, it shouldn't be thriving here.
Nature, such mystery.
-The weather has been lovely. -Indeed.
And yet it is a dark day for the realm.
Your father was a good man.
As is yours who took his place.
Yet still,
the manner of your father's departure...
it feels something of an injustice.
What do you know of the matter of his leaving?
When one is never invited to speak,
one learns instead to... observe.
You're perhaps in need of an ally?
I'm the Queen.
-I have no shortage of allies. -Naturally.
Princess Rhaenyra, for example.
State your purpose, my lord.
I did wonder if she could be relied upon
now that she is unwell.
Unwell? I haven't heard anything.
Begging your pardon, Your Grace, I may be mistaken.
It's just that on the very same night your father was dismissed,
the Grand Maester delivered a tea to the Princess's chambers.
-A tea? -Yes.
That the Grand Maester himself brought?
At the direction of the King, as I understand it.
I do hope she's not unwell.
Rhaenyra sailed with the King to Driftmark
-yesterday at daybreak. -What good news.
I must've been in error.
A relief.
I thought for Mellos himself, well...
her condition must be something very serious.
What happiness it is to have been wrong.
I'm sorry.
Come, cousin.
Let us discover what might be had for breakfast.
Your Grace.
Rise, Lord Corlys.
Be welcome.
May I offer you a chair?
Cousin!
Princess.
-Are you well? -Very.
I congratulate you, Lord Lyonel.
I can think of no man more suited to be the Hand of the King.
That is very kind of you to say, Lord Corlys.
His Grace has honored me with the post.
Pity about Ser Otto.
Despite spending most of my days amidst the grandeur of the Red Keep,
the halls of High Tide never fail to impress.
You flatter me, Your Grace.
Though I do wish we could meet under happier pretenses.
-How so? -Daemon's wife,
the Lady Rhea Royce, has passed.
A hunting mishap.
She was thrown from her horse.
Her neck and skull both crushed in the fall.
A most surprising end.
Lady Rhea's skill as both rider and hunter were well-known.
-The gods are cruel. -Indeed.
Lady Rhea was a fine woman and a good wife to my brother.
Sad thing that she and Daemon have no heirs to succeed her.
She stood to inherit Runestone.
Mayhaps we can turn toward happier pursuits.
-No, thank you. -What did you have in mind, Your Grace?
I wish to propose a marriage between your son, Ser Laenor...
and my daughter and heir, the Princess Rhaenyra.
It's long past time our houses were united in blood.
The last pillars of Old Valyria.
You honor both me and my house, Your Grace.
There are certain details I would wish clarified
before the Princess Rhaenys and I could accept this most...
generous proposal.
What details?
We would like to know how the succession will be handled.
Rhaenyra is my heir.
Upon my death, my throne and my titles will pass to her.
She and Ser Laenor's firstborn child, regardless of gender,
will inherit the Iron Throne from her.
Can I presume that, in keeping with Westerosi tradition...
their children would take their father's name?
That they would be born Velaryons?
Surely, Lord Corlys,
you are not proposing the Targaryen dynasty end with my daughter
simply because she is a woman?
I only seek clarity, Your Grace.
-Might I have a chair brought in for you? -I do not--
No. I do not require a chair.
Upon their birth, Ser Laenor and Rhaenyra's children
shall take their father's name, Velaryon...
in keeping with our traditions.
However,
at such time when their firstborn ascends the Iron Throne,
he or she will do so bearing the name Targaryen.
Dragons will rule the Seven Kingdoms for the next hundred years,
just as they did the last.
This is an equitable compromise.
Good.
Now, if there's nothing further.
In truth, if it had to be someone, I'm glad it is you.
I know this union is not what you would choose.
I hold nothing against you, cousin.
No, I--
rather...
Dare I say it is a matter of taste?
I prefer roast duck to goose.
I cannot say why.
It's not for a lack of trying.
There are those who like goose very well.
I find it a bit greasy for my taste.
I know that whatever agreement being struck up there
will not change your appetites,
nor will it change mine.
And what do you propose?
That we perform our duty to our fathers and to the realm
and when it's done...
each of us dines as we see fit.
Viserys has taken to bed while his ship is readied.
Perhaps I...
overextended myself?
Pushed him too close to the edge?
My cousin chose to sail into this tempest, husband.
It was undignified of the King to drag himself here
and beg for Laenor's hand.
Where is Laenor?
-He and Rhaenyra are walking the coast. -Good.
Do they seem... familiar?
They grew up together.
Familiarity is not at issue.
I'm sure Laenor was already taken with her.
She's grown quite comely these last few years.
You know his true nature.
He's still young.
He will outgrow it.
There is no pleasure in the world like...
bedding a woman.
We are placing our son in danger.
The lords of the realm bent the knee to Rhaenyra
and swore obeisance to her.
That was before there was a true-born prince
named Aegon Targaryen.
Rhaenyra's succession will be challenged.
Knives will come out for her, her husband, and for their heirs.
Our house controls the realm's navy and half its dragons.
Anyone fool enough to challenge Rhaenyra's claim
-will be crushed. -To what end, Corlys? Wealth? Power?
-Pride? -Justice.
By all rights,
you should be Queen of the Seven Kingdoms.
You were robbed of the crown by--
I never wore the crown because the realm would not have it so.
And I would remedy that
small-minded error by any means necessar--
I myself have put the business behind me, Corlys.
I've always feared the day you'd have to marry a woman.
And now it comes.
Your betrothed gives you leave
of her own free will to continue partaking of.
Was I the duck or the goose?
I've come to meet my fate and you make a jape of it?
Look, Rhaenyra will be Queen of the Seven Kingdoms
and you will be her king consort.
Think of the tournament,
the feast, the battles at sea.
Will you wear your crown today, Your Grace?
You're a fool.
You will need a sworn protector.
This is better than we could've hoped for.
She has a paramour of her own.
I wonder who it is.
Did sleep flee you as well this morning?
I needed to see you, Princess.
I confess I had a similar desire.
You have confided in me now and then over the years of our acquaintance.
I feel, forgive me, that I know you... a bit.
You know more than a bit.
I've heard you say so many times how you loathe the lot of your position,
that you are to be married off at your father's whim
with no thought given to the yearning of your own heart,
and now the day comes.
Ser Laenor is a good and decent man, but you did not choose him.
-He was chosen for you. -That's true.
If there were another path...
one that led to freedom...
would you tread it?
Rhaenyra, before I came here,
I was a knight in the Stormlands.
I have deep knowledge of the port at Sunspear
where I've seen the ships of Essos setting sail
with their hulls full of oranges and cinnamon
and I've always wished to see where they went.
Are you asking for leave?
I'm asking you to come with me...
away from all of this.
From the burdens and indignities of your inheritance.
Let us leave it all behind and see the world together...
where we'll be nameless,
and free...
free to go where we like, to love as we like.
In Essos...
you could marry me.
A marriage for love,
not for the crown.
I am the crown, Ser Criston.
Or I will be.
I may chafe at my duties,
but do you think I would choose infamy
in exchange for a bushel of oranges or a ship to Asshai?
It is my duty
to marry a nobleman from a great house
and Ser Laenor will make a fine husband.
But my...
my marriage...
does not have to be the end.
Ser Criston, Laenor and I have an understanding.
I've granted him leave to pursue his own interests...
and in turn, he's granted me the same.
So you want me to be your whore?
I want us to continue as we began,
with you as my sworn protector, my white knight.
I took an oath.
As a knight of your Kingsguard.
An oath of chastity. I've broken it.
-I won't tell anyone-- -I've soiled my white cloak.
And it's the only thing I have to my fucking name!
I thought if we were married, I might be able to restore it.
The Iron Throne looms larger than me,
larger than anyone in my family.
Aegon the Conqueror united the Seven Kingdoms
and put them on a path--
Ser Criston.
-Fetch the Maester! -Get back.
Get Mellos! Get back!
Prepare the crucible.
We'll need leeches.
Ser Criston...
you've been summoned.
I left the Princess just minutes ago.
Not the Princess, ser.
The Queen.
Ser Criston, Your Grace.
That will be all.
I fear I must question you on a delicate matter, Ser Criston.
I am your servant as always, my Queen.
It concerns our dear Princess Rhaenyra.
Please.
You are her sworn protector and rightly loyal to her.
I am.
The night of Daemon's return...
there's been a rumor...
or rather, my father received an accounting of...
a lapse of morals
that may have occurred between--
It is, of course, unthinkable for me to question the virtue of the Princess,
whom I hold in highest regard,
but, I did, however, wonder if...
I'm not unaware that in flush of youth...
there may be errors made...
breaches in resolve,
-breaches, or rather lapses-- -It happened, Your Grace.
The sin you allude to.
I have committed it.
At her instigation, it is true, but that should--
It is no excuse.
My oath has been broken.
I have dishonored myself.
I deserve no consideration.
But if...
as a clement Queen, you are inclined to pity...
I would ask only this...
that rather than gelding me
and having me tortured
you would sentence me mercifully to death.
Thank you for your honesty, Ser Criston.
You may go.
Rest now, Your Grace. I will bring the leeches.
If I may, Grand Maester,
I took the liberty of preparing a fresh set
of herbal poultices that might be more effective.
That will not be necessary, Orwyle.
The leechings have always brought His Grace relief.
To help him sleep.
Where's the Queen?
I was given to understand that she is otherwise occupied, Your Grace.
Will I be remembered as a good king, Lyonel?
Your Grace?
What will they say of me when the histories are written?
I have neither fought nor conquered,
nor suffered any great defeat.
Some might call that good fortune.
It hardly makes a good song, does it?
To be sung at feasts in a hundred years...
five hundred.
You have carried King Jaehaerys's legacy.
And kept the realm strong.
Is it not better to live in peace
than to have songs sung after you are dead?
Perhaps.
But there is a part of me wishes I'd been tested.
I often think that in the crucible,
I may have been forged a different man.
Many that are tested, only wish to have been spared it.
Another lord might assure me that I would rise like
Aegon the Conqueror given the chance.
-Your Grace, that is-- -You're right.
You're right as always.
It is perhaps best not to know.
It is with great pleasure
that His Grace, King Viserys, announces the start
of the royal wedding celebrations.
House Lannister with their lord, Jason Lannister.
Lord Paramount of the West, and Master of Casterly Rock.
House Hightower with their lord, Hobert Hightower.
Beacon of the South, Defender of the Citadel,
the Voice of Oldtown...
Congratulations, Your Grace.
You have made a fine match for the Princess.
Thank you, Lord Jason.
I could think of no better man than Ser Laenor.
Well, if this is only the welcome feast,
I admit, I cannot imagine what you might have planned for the wedding.
My daughter is the future queen.
I wanted this to be a wedding for the histories.
Where is the Queen?
I had hoped to pay my respects.
I understand the Queen is still readying herself for the celebrations.
This is why men wage war
because women would never be ready for the battle in time.
Your presence is always such a pleasure, Lord Jason.
Princess, Your Grace.
Your Grace, Princess Rhaenyra, congratulations are in order.
We are very honored to have you as a guest, Ser Gerold.
I must say, I was most distressed
to hear of the Lady Rhea's tragic passing.
I'm very sorry for your loss.
Lady Rhea was a unique character.
Her kind is not soon to be seen again.
If there is anything the crown might do to aid House Royce--
Lord Corlys of House Velaryon.
Lord of the Tides, Master of Driftmark.
And his lady wife, Princess Rhaenys Targaryen.
And their son and heir, Ser Laenor Velaryon,
the future king consort.
-My Betrothed. -My Betrothed.
Be welcome, as we join together in celebration.
Tonight is only its beginning.
We honor the crown's oldest
and fiercest ally, House Velaryon.
Reaching back to the days of Old Valyria and the Age of Dragons.
With House Targaryen and--
The King will not be happy.
Right in the midst of his speech.
The beacon on the Hightower,
do you know what color it glows when Oldtown calls its banners to war?
Green.
Congratulations, stepdaughter.
What a blessing this is for you.
Please be seated.
Where was I?
The joining of the two houses, Your Grace.
Yeah.
Yes.
With House Targaryen and House Velaryon united,
I hope to herald in a second Age of Dragons
in Westeros.
And after tonight's small affair...
seven days of tournament and feasting.
At the end of it all...
At the end of it all, a royal wedding...
between my daughter,
my heir...
your future Queen...
and Ser Laenor Velaryon, the heir to Driftmark.
I was never much of a dancer.
It's not much different to combat.
I shall hope for a different outcome.
-Your Grace. -We thank you for coming, uncle.
I worried that given leave of your father's shadow,
you might wither in King's Landing's sun.
But you stood tall.
Know that Oldtown stands with you.
In the Vale, men are made to answer for their crimes.
Even Targaryens.
Who are you?
Ser Gerold Royce of Runestone.
And?
I am cousin to your late lady wife.
Yes. Terrible thing.
I'm positively bereft. Such a tragic accident.
You know better than anyone, it was no accident.
Are you confessing some guilt, Ser Gerold?
I am making an accusation.
In King's Landing, men are made to answer for their slanders.
Even old bronze cunts like you.
The truth is, I'm glad you've come.
I wish to speak to you about my inheritance.
-What inheritance? -Lady Rhea and I had no heirs.
As her husband, whatever she was due now passes to me.
She stood to inherit all of Runestone. Did she not?
After my niece's wedding, I plan to fly to the Eyrie
and petition Lady Jeyne myself.
Perhaps I'll see you there, Ser Gerold.
Has anybody ever told you you're nearly as pretty as your brother?
You flatter me, my Prince.
-I was sorry to hear about your lady wife. -Don't be, I wasn't.
My lady was never very kind to me.
I know who it is.
The handsome paramour.
Who?
Ser Criston Cole.
-Her sworn protector? -Look at him.
The man is fully cunt-struck.
A Targaryen prince, a dashing knight, and a dragonrider.
You appear to be every young maiden's dream.
That's only because you don't know me yet.
I believe Ser Criston has bloodied that white cloak of his
-with your bride's maidenhead. -Keep your voice down.
Perhaps that is something we might remedy, my Prince.
Perhaps it is.
This is a good thing. She knows your secret,
and now you know hers.
Hey!
They make a handsome match, don't they?
What?
The Princess and Ser Laenor.
Hey!
Ser Joffrey Lonmouth,
or the Knight of Kisses, they call me,
though I don't know why.
I'm on watch. What's your business?
You don't know me, Ser Criston.
But we are both deeply invested in this union.
Hey!
If you have something to say, Ser Joffrey, speak it.
Ser Laenor is quite dear to me.
As I know the Princess is to you.
We should swear to each other to guard them,
and their secrets, because if those are kept safe...
then so are we all.
Hey!
-May I, Ser Harwin? -Of course, my Prince.
Hey!
What in the Seven Hells is going on?
Laenor!
-Stop this! -Where's Rhaenyra?
Princess?
Put me down!
The love of the Seven is holy and eternal.
The source of life and love.
We stand here tonight in thanks and praise
to join two souls as one.
Father...
Mother...
Warrior...
Smith...
Maiden...
Crone...
Stranger.
Hear now their vows.
I am yours and you are mine.
Whatever may come.
I am yours and you are mine.
Whatever may come.
Here, in the presence of gods and men,
I proclaim...
Laenor of House Velaryon...
Rhaenyra of House Targaryen,
to be man and wife.
One flesh...
one heart...
one soul...
now and forever.
Ser Criston.