Following the lead of Lord Velaryon, who stormed out after voicing aloud his exasperations... Rhaenyra didn't even try to hear out her father's pleas and left the room as well.
What more justifications did the oh-so-dutiful King even have to say...
He already said that by marrying again, he will begin to ensure that they will be better defended. Due to their vulnerable line that is too easily ended.
Rhaenyra understood all of this... she came to accept it... and had even given her own support to him by also assuming her late mother's blessings.
But it was her own blind fault to not notice her father's ambiguity with all of it...
Making it seem to her that he had forced himself into marrying Laena... yet it was actually Alicent that he had been alluding to all along.
What a father he was. To trick her so...
And what a friend Alicent is... her very best friend that no one can ever hope to replace...
Who mayhaps has been working her hidden seductive wiles against father all this while.
Rhaenyra should have seen through it from the get-go... how odd it was that she was actually present in a Small Council meeting that she had no business being...
Granted that she should have noticed it far more earlier...
Alicent's hesitancy and conflicted countenance when the topic of the King's remarriage was brought up...
It's as if the Hightower girl had known that it was bound to happen... and that she herself was the all-but-certain marriage candidate to begin with.
Oh, how Alicent tried hard to appease her worries... appealing to Rhaenyra through the loss of their mothers.
Perhaps as a ploy to soften the blow. For Alicent was assured to replace the spot that dear mother Aemma had made empty with her passing.
For Rhaenyra, it was betrayal after betrayal. Through and through, her father and so-called friend had toyed with her...
And as she rushed through the Keep's halls with hurt and panic... Princess Rhaenys's words seemed to echo at her thoughts once again.
About how, whether it be with Laena or to someone else's... her King of a father will remarry sooner than late.
And sooner, it would seem, before spring's end.
His new wife... which is Alicent in this case... will produce new heirs, and chances are better than not... that one of their babes will be male.
And when that boy comes of age and her father has passed... the men of the realm will expect the boy to be heir, and not the female her.
Because apparently... that is the order of things.
And such an eventuality now seemed hard to accept... even when Rhaenyra didn't even want to be heir in the first place.
Truth be told, she just wanted to fly with her friend on dragonback... see the great wonders across the Narrow Sea... and eat only cake...
But Alicent had pricked her plenty behind her own back... on the way to usurping her dear mother's spot as Queen already.
And the slighted princess didn't want to give that Hightower snake the satisfaction of taking her Queenship as well.
So, after mostly clearing her head and weighing her potential options, Rhaenyra asked to be taken to the Dragonpit...
Where Syrax awaits...
And together they'll fly...
Not just to release her frustrations in the freeing sky... but also to travel further than the usual Crownlands and Blackwater Bay...
Hopefully, to find a great mountain range... and eventually spot the tallest castle there...
Maybe to connect with her distant cousin... and ask her for the location of Runestone from there.
Better yet, she'll just ask Jeyne where the famous Cleansing of the Mountain is currently at...
To convene with an even more distant and estranged cousin that Rhaenyra hopes to convince.
For the many bolder moves she's hoping to make. A new order of things she boasted to create.
-------------
While the Princess Rhaenyra took an unsure flight on a journey she's never taken before... the Master of Tides was more certain of where he was headed.
Calling on his great fleet to head back home... to the island of Driftmark, where he expects to meet somebody whom he has used a raven to call upon.
And before long, the meeting did happen... in the halls of the newer High Tide, in front of its warming fireplace.
Seated upon a comfortable seat, Lord Corlys narrated that. "House Velaryon's origins reach back to Old Valyria. More ancient even than House Targaryen… according to some texts."
"But unlike the Targaryens... we were no dragonlords." He intoned with regret as he continued. "For centuries, my house had to scratch out an existence from the sea... with grit and luck."
"When I ascended the Driftwood Throne, I knew what I wanted. So I went out and seized it." He claimed and with confidence, he added. "Unlike every other lord of the realm, I can say that I built my house's high seat with the strength of mine own back."
"I've always thought of you and I as having been made from the same cloth." He also said, while leaning towards his guest...
The somberly seated Rogue Prince, Daemon Targaryen, who musingly responded. "I wasn't aware you had a king for a brother."
"We're both men who have had to cut our own way through the world." Corlys doubled down and appealed that. "We've been passed over too often."
Daemon seemed not fond of that, so he just wondered. "Did you call me to Driftmark and your new castle to remind me of my low standing, Lord Corlys, or was there some other reason?"
So, Corlys then asked. "You've heard of the troubles in the Stepstones?"
"Some Myrish Prince is feeding Westerosi sailors to the crabs." Daemon had heard of this ever-growing pestilence, of course.
To which, Corlys supplemented. "I have been petitioning the King to send my navy into the territory, but he's denied me."
"It was never my brother's strongest trait." Daemon suddenly said.
"What?"
"Being King." Was what the Prince unabashedly claimed.
Emboldened by that, the Sea Snake then ranted. "The Crabfeeder is backed by powerful entities within the Free Cities who wish to see Westeros weakened... and the King's failures have allowed him to accumulate strength."
"If those shipping lanes fall, my house will be crippled." He added with a trace of hate. "And I will not have Driftmark beggared while our King idles himself with feasts, and balls, and tourneys."
"I will speak of my brother as I wish." Daemon interjectingly said and then threateningly warned that. "You will not."
But the decorated Velaryon was not deterred and just pivoted. "Waiting in the Stepstones is a chance for you to prove your worth to any who might yet doubt it."
"We are the realm's second sons, Daemon." He supplemented. "Our worth is not given. It must be made."
And as much as Daemon stoically acted. Acting as if he considered himself above such embellished wagging of tongue... Corlys knew that his words still reached something deep within the disgraced prince.
For the Stepstones was a chance to prove themselves... and winning the scuffle there would highlight the Crown's obvious inactions.
Stomping on the already frail reputation of that Viserys... which should almost make up the shame he gave to the Velaryons for rejecting Laena, who should have been a more than suitable match to him.
And maybe even wipe that smug smirk of victory that that hateful Otto had on his gaunt face.
And the Prince Daemon would have his own glory... and another way to get the attention of the weak brother whom he was oddly protective and obsessed about.
Of course, no doubt they would also overshadow the brilliance of the Young Bronze and his Bronze Order with this move...
A way for the neglectful father to be a step above the ever-glorious son he neglected... and a way for Corlys to re-establish his might against Runestone, which rejected his most generous of offers.
In hindsight, he shouldn't have sent the zealous Vaemond as an envoy all those moons ago... but Corlys was confident that he could still salvage the mistake...
Especially after his grand fleet and Daemon's Blood Wyrm can smash the Crabfeeder and the Triarchy with undeniable ease.