Game of Thrones: I Am The Heir For A Day - Chapter 253: The Pregnancy Comes

Rhaenyra sat on a chair, chatting with Laena and the silver-haired girl beside Laenor. She looked gentle, her voice soft, and every move exuded the calm demeanor of a young lady. Her intellectual beauty was fully emphasized, reflecting a mature woman’s grace.

“Celine, you and Laenor are newlyweds. Traveling is a good choice,” Laena suggested with a hopeful smile. “I have quite a few friends in Pentos. You could go there for some fun.”

Celine, the silver-haired girl who appeared at the Targaryen family banquet, was the only daughter of Lord Bartimos Celtigar of Claw Isle. She had married Laenor late last year, in 120 AC, to strengthen the bond between the Celtigar and Velaryon Houses.

Petite with a beautiful face and a few freckles adding to her charm, Celine smiled, albeit forcedly. “I’ll discuss it with Laenor,” she said, her knuckles whitening as she gripped her knife and fork.

Turning to her husband, she asked in a low voice, “What do you think, Laenor?”

Laenor, not listening to the women, was engrossed in drinking with Aegon. Only when Celine tugged at his sleeve did he turn with a self-assured smile. “Fine, whatever you say,” he replied, then continued his drinking.

For Laenor, paying outward respect to Celine was sufficient for his duties as a husband. Drinking with a brother was far more important. Celine pursed her lips, released her grip on his sleeve, and forced a slightly embarrassed smile at Laena and Rhaenyra.

Laena’s face went cold for a moment before she composed herself and sat down next to Celine. She hugged her gently and comforted her, “All men are like that. Everything will be fine.”

Laena understood her brother’s behavior very well. It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate Celine, but he lacked the concept of a wife. Rhaenyra, understanding, withdrew her smile. Laenor’s preferences were no secret – he preferred the company of men to women.

Celine leaned into Laena’s embrace, her voice barely a whisper, “I’m still a virgin.”

Laena stroked her head, speaking candidly, “Don’t worry, men are fickle. You’re only sixteen. There’s plenty of time. Rhaenyra and I were both past twenty before we lost our virginity.”

“Laena!” Rhaenyra’s voice rose slightly, her eyes widening.

Talking about such matters in private was one thing, but it was unseemly at a banquet. Laena turned and said frankly, “Am I wrong?”

Rhaenyra was speechless and moved back to her seat, deciding not to interact further. She wasn’t married and felt she couldn’t compare to Laena, who was a wife and mother.

Laena, unfazed, continued to comfort Celine with her personal insights. She and Daemon had been married for years, and she had seen it all. This was just a small scene.

“Huh,” Daemon chuckled from the side, unable to hold back his laughter. He appreciated Laena’s broad-mindedness, unrestrained by trivial conventions. She truly was the perfect match for him.

Hearing his laughter, Rhaenyra rolled her eyes and returned to her seat next to Rhaegar. Since Daemon’s return to Driftmark, she had visited Laena only once.

That visit had ended awkwardly when she stumbled upon Daemon and Laena in an intimate moment on the balcony, with Aunt Rhaenys witnessing the scene alongside her. Since then, any communication with Laena was done through ravens and invitations.

Rhaegar teased her, “Why are you back and not talking again?”

His keen senses had picked up the women’s conversation. Rhaenyra, feeling annoyed, threatened him through gritted teeth, “Don’t push it, Rhaegar.”

Feigning surrender, Rhaegar raised his hands and said, “Fine, you’re the queen, you’re the boss.”

Rhaenyra hummed proudly and began helping him with his food. Suddenly, Rhaegar leaned closer and hooked his finger under her chin, directing her gaze across the table. “Look, Rhaenyra.”

She reluctantly turned her head, wondering what he was pointing out. There, in front of her, Aegon and Laenor were drinking happily. Rhaenyra scanned the scene, puzzled. “What am I supposed to see?”

“Look below their waists,” Rhaegar hinted mysteriously.

Rhaenyra lowered her gaze, following the line of their shoulders, chest, abdomen, waist, and then—

She grabbed Rhaegar’s arm, her mouth agape in surprise. Aegon and Laenor, leaning close with their shoulders touching, were groping each other under the table, smiles plastered on their faces.

Rhaenyra quickly looked away, flustered. “They…”

She wanted to ask how long this had been going on, but was too embarrassed to speak openly.

Rhaegar’s mouth curled into a sly smile, and he whispered, “Three years.”

He explained that after Vaemond’s funeral, during an inspection visit to the Stepstones, he had landed his dragon on Bloodstone Island and unexpectedly found Aegon and Laenor in a compromising position on the grass.

Cannibal’s wings had created a gust of wind that scattered their clothes, leaving the two naked and exposed.

Rhaenyra’s eyes widened in shock. “I can’t believe it’s been this long.”

“They were stationed on the Stepstones for years, without any women around. It was only natural they turned to each other,” Rhaegar said, sharing his secret with ease.

Aegon, ever the wanderer, was unbothered by boundaries and Laenor had simply capitalized on their isolation. Rhaenyra covered her mouth, stifling a giggle. Among the nobility, such affairs were not unheard of, and she found humor in the situation rather than scandal.

Rhaenyra laughed quietly, feeling like a young girl sharing a mischievous secret.

When the twins turned one, they left Driftmark and moved to King’s Landing or Dragonstone with Rhaenyra. Despite not having a deep bond with their birth mother, Laena, they still missed her.

Baela, bold and outgoing, hugged Laena’s thigh, tilting her face up. “Mother, did you have another baby?” she asked loudly enough for everyone to hear.

The room fell silent, and all eyes turned to Laena. She paused, stroking Baela’s silver hair, unsure how to respond.

Rhaena, hugging Laena’s other thigh, pressed her face against her mother’s skirt. “Mother, father said you’re going to give us a little brother,” she said in a sticky, affectionate voice.

Laena shot an annoyed glance at her innocent-looking husband. They had agreed to keep it a secret to avoid upsetting their daughters and Celine.

Daemon shrugged casually. “The kids have a right to know,” he said.

Laena, frustrated but composed, took a deep breath and placed her hands on her daughters’ heads. Addressing everyone, she announced, “I’m pregnant. The maester says it’s been almost two months.”

A smile crept across her face, radiating a maternal glow.

“Congratulations, Laena,” Rhaenyra exclaimed, rising from her chair to embrace her friend. The others followed suit, offering their congratulations, especially Viserys, who clapped enthusiastically.

“Good! The Targaryens will have another newborn,” he beamed. Every new heir for House Targaryen was precious.

“Thank you, brother,” Daemon said with a chuckle, standing up despite Laena’s irritated look. He lifted his wine glass in a toast. “Gentlemen, I am to have another child, a Targaryen heir!”

“Well, congratulations, Prince Daemon,” Otto Hightower responded first, clapping his hands. He knew how to keep the atmosphere lively, especially with his daughter and grandchildren present.

Viserys was overjoyed, raising his glass and drinking hurriedly, spilling wine down his front. Rhaegar also applauded, scanning the room.

While his father and Rhaenyra’s smiles were genuine, Otto, Alicent, and a few younger brothers were more perfunctory. Helena was in her own world, playing with grapes. Laenor and his wife’s smiles were stiff, not heartfelt, and Aunt Rhaenys was silent, her expression stern.

Rhaegar frowned slightly, sensing the tension.

Out of the blue, Aegon asked, “Cousin, when will you and your sister-in-law have a child?”

“Aegon!” Laenor’s face darkened, and he nudged him.

Aegon continued teasing, “You’ll have to work harder. Lord Corlys has been waiting for a grandson to inherit Driftmark.”

Daemon chimed in playfully, “Yes, to have a pure Velaryon with salt in his blood.”

Laenor blushed and put down his glass. “I’ve only been married less than a year. There will be plenty of opportunities,” he said quietly.

“Very well, a nice declaration,” Aegon retorted, sarcasm

Despite their casual relationship, Aegon and Laenor had little to do with each other. Aegon had never been fond of House Velaryon.

Daemon leaned back in his chair, a smirk playing on his lips as he observed the unfolding drama.

Laenor’s chest heaved with anger, ready to retort.

“Laenor, sit down and keep your wife company,” Laena interjected, her voice commanding attention and diffusing the tension.

Celine sat with her head bowed, fingers nervously twisting together, her eyes rimmed with redness. It wasn’t that she didn’t want children; her husband simply never gave her the chance.