THE REFLECTION (ザ・リフレクション)

-Good morrow, Lady Rhea. -Cousin.

What's today's quarry? Rabbit?

-Deer. -Oh. 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. -Larys: 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, um... 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. -Oh, what good news.

I must've been in error.

Oh, a relief.

See, 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.

-Rhaenys: The gods are cruel. -King Viserys: Indeed.

Lady Rhea was a fine woman

and a, uh... 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.

King Viserys: 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, 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.