[center][h3][color=fff200]The Golden Dragon[/color][/h3][/center]

Lifting his glass once more to his lips Aegon took a long draw from his wine, sighing contently as he sat it back down. His personal room in Maegors Hold fast was lavishly furnished with a thick Ironwood desk dominating the center of the room. The chair in which he sat was made of luxurious leather which cradled the Princes plump form well. He appeared to be writing in between sips of wine when Ser Cole would enter.

Promptly removing his helmet, moving to hold it beneath his armpit, the armor-clad Lord Commander of the Kingsguard turned to close the door behind him with a solid thud. Turning again to face Aegon with a slight nod, he took hurried steps towards the man, a loud clunk of his armor accompanying each step. Closing the distance between the two men, Cole peered down at the seated prince.

"Your highness - I thought you might have reconsider-"

"Ser Cole let me stop you now, my mother and Grandfather have already spoken to me and I've given them my thoughts on the matter. Maester Munkun tried as well and I assure you that he was just as unsuccessful.", he ended his sentence at the same time he finished writing and only then looked up at the White-cloak.

"So, if there was anything else you wished to speak of so as I may save you the time?"

Allowing an audible sigh to escape his lips, Criston brought a gloved hand to his temple for but a moment. The Lord Commander of the Kingsguard would not serve under a 'Queen' such as Rhaenyra - that much, he knew. While facing away from the prince for but a moment, Cole bit his bottom lip in thought before turning again to face Aegon, planting his helmet solidly on the desk before the both of them.

"Have you heeded nothing they have said? Your elder sister will soon walk these halls as Queen with those ba-" biting his tongue, Cole changed his argument, "Westeros has never had a Queen, and we are a short time away from chaos."

Aegon sighed heavily and shook his head ever so slightly, dipping his quill in ink he returned to writing once more before answer Ser Cole.

"I have heard the same thing from the others. So what? It is not like she does not have a King, Daemon will sit beside her and rule as well will he not? I doubt Aegon the first never took counsel from his wives why should Rhaenyra ignore her husband? Before Aegon Westeros had never had a single King before but we did not all die of plague and famine. Rhaenyra will take the throne and it shall be like every Targaryen ruler before her but with tits"

He smiled slightly as he looked back up at Cole, picking up the vase from which he poured his wine and poured a glass for Ser Cole, "Now you may remain and converse if you so wish but at least drink while you're here, any annoying conversation because infinitely more bearable with a good Dornish wine.", he pushed the glass towards Cole.

Cole locked eyes with the young prince as the glass was slid towards him. Bitterly removing the armored gloves from his hands and setting them down beside his helm, Cole silently took the glass, downing its contents. Liquid courage, perhaps.

Allowing the silence to continue for a short while longer, Cole curtly spat out the words, "You condemn us all.". Pulling out a chair to sit next to the Prince, the Lord Commander adjusted his cloak of bright white as he sat down. "Your beloved sister, who you so eagerly would make Queen, will be your doom. Our doom." Resting his elbows against his legs, Cole leant forward, speaking in a hushed manner, "You know the talk of your sister. She and Ser Harwin.", quickly raising a hand to silence the predicted protest from the Targaryen opposite, Cole continued, "I know you don't care. But the realm will. The bastard boys of some Strong running around this keep, a bastard boy sitting on the Iron Throne? Westeros will bleed for this."

Reclining back into the wooden chair, a slight noise from his chain mail as he moved being the only audible sound in the room, "You will bleed for it, too."

Aegon's eyes shot daggers at the Kingsguard for ordering his silence, however short and indirect the order was. It was insolent and if he were in a worse mood he would likely have harped on it... but the man now had Aegon's attention. 

"I will bleed you say? The realm will bleed if a boy with brown hair and an ugly face sits the throne? I seem to remember the North is ruled by plenty of ugly brown haired men and they've not bled recently. But if I am crowned I assure you Rhaenyra will make us bleed. She has dragons after all and no love for me I assure you. If I oppose her supposed birthright the realm may very well burn Ser Cole. How is that not the worse option? How will I or the realm bleed for her sons?"

Aegon again let his self-righteous smirk crease the sides of his mouth, confident the Knight had no further argument and hoping this may end the trying conversation.

Cole returned a slight smirk, nodding his head toward Aegon slightly, playing along with his argument. "A fair point - if you take the crown, there very well may be war. In fact - I expect there will." Rising from the chair, Cole continued, "but, I think, crowning Rhaenyra will also lead to war. Not today, perhaps, not tomorrow. But somewhere along the line, somebody is going to believe those rumors about her bastard sons, not that Ser Harwin will be able to offer any input after he burned alive." Pausing for a second to allow the thought of a man burning alive to enter the thoughts of the young prince, Cole continued, "A fate we may yet share. See, I make it, that if Rhaenyra wants to prevent such a war in the future, she merely needs to be rid of the other claimants. Your line. If there are no other Targaryens to contest the crown from her children, then the fate of Westeros is sealed. Her succession is guaranteed."

Reaching across the table for the jug of wine, pouring himself another glass, he confidently continued, "But we have dragons. We have support - we have the true legitimacy. You said yourself your sister has no love for you. Do not leave your fate to her hands, do not submit your life to one who views you as a threat. Ser Harwin was, undoubtedly, a threat. We know what happened to him."

Finished pouring his glass, Cole sat the jug down on the table, taking a long drink of the wine.

"If your sister sits her arse on that throne - we will bleed. You, me, those who have encouraged you to press your claim. Her first act as the Queen of this Kingdom will be to secure her kingdom." Taking another, final drink of the wine before sliding the empty glass across to Aegon, he finished, "By killing us."

Silence reigned in the aftermath of Cole's closing statement. Prince Aegon was glowering at the man, his fist shaking slightly. Not because he had insulted him or Rhaenyra, but because Aegon knew he was right. The thought had nagged at the back of his ever since his father died. He chewed on his bottom lip before downing what was left in his glass. He placed it down and sighed loudly.

"It... it has crossed my mind, Ser Cole, that you may be correct. Rhaenyra despises my mother and my nephews despise me and my brothers. And Daemon is a power hungry-", Aegon stopped himself and sighed again.

"... If I were to accept Ser Cole and be crowned King, I trust there is a plan to deal with my half sister and her bastards? They have more dragons than I have. But we will have the element of surprise I suppose..."

Aegon frowned as he often did and tilted his glass absent mindedly as he spoke. Thinking quietly to himself.

"Fine. You win Ser Cole. I accept the crown that is my birthright. Go and tell my jubilant mother... and tell my paige if I don't have more wine by the time my mother comes in to congratulate my decision as I'm sure she will he' ll be flogged."

Bowing his head, Cole retrieved his helm and gloves from the table, "We will deal with Rhaenyra - and the realm will support their rightful king." Turning to leave the room, satisfied in accomplishing the task he set out to achieve, Cole looked over his shoulder toward Aegon as he opened the door, "Your grace."

As the door closed behind Ser Cole Aegon leaned back in his chair... a rare smile crossing his lips. 'Your Grace', he quite liked the sound of that.