Her Small Council babbles amongst themselves, a cacophony of male voices overlapping, barking at each other like dogs - men, always men, from her husband to her cousins to her hand-picked lords, and still, they squabble over this most obvious of questions.

“Enough,” she says, and it’s a grim testament to something that the noise dies, though she’s neither moved a muscle nor raised her voice; but then, they’d all been raised at Alyssane’s court, and what man doesn’t crave a good dressing down from mother, in the end?

“I was named Queen over my cousins,” she says, noting the two of them flinching out of the corner of her eye (Viserys from shame, no doubt, and Daemon from his ever-wounded pride), “because I was the eldest - and so Laena, as my eldest, will be my heir - and that, gentlemen, is the end of it.”