Rhaella sank into her tub, enjoying the hot water. She was heavily pregnant now, and could no longer fly Dreamfyre.

Otto had been spreading rumors that she was pregnant. Viserys, enraged, had stripped him from his position as Hand of the King, and appointed Rhaenys as his Hand.

The Queen Who Never Was had ripped into the corruption that plagued the royal government, thus proving her efficiency.

"Ella." Viserys greeted her, entering the room.

"Viserys." Rhaella greeted her brother-husband. "Do you want a son or a daughter?"

"As long as the babe lives, I don't care the gender. Dorian is hale and healthy, as is Nyra." Viserys said, taking her hand. Their matching marriage rings—silver with a single amethyst glittered on their fingers.

"I want to be clear this is my last pregnancy, Viserys." Rhaella said. "I don't want so many children, which leads to rival branches of our family."

"That can work, Ella." Viserys smiled softly.

"I heard there is a tourney for this babe." Rhaella mentioned after a comfortable silence fell.

"There is. I hope you can make it." the Young King said.

"I pray I survive the childbirth." the Sky Dragon whispered.

Rhaella let out another pained scream. Her strength was slipping away bit by bit.

"I want to push." Rhaella sobbed.

Olenna held her hand. "She's dying, Gerardys!" the Queen of Thorns yelled.

The purple eyed Queen's personal maester pursed his lips. "Not now, or she'll cause a breech."

"How much longer?" Jocasta inquired as Rhaella let out another pained scream. Dreamfyre's loud roar shook the air—she felt her rider's pain.

"At least two more minutes." Gerardys said firmly.

Two minutes passed. "Now, Your Grace!" Gerardys said.

The Sky Queen didn't know if she had enough strength left as tears trickled down her cheeks and her hair was wet with sweat. But she thought of Dorian and Rhaenyra—she couldn't leave them.

Not yet. She forced herself away from Death's embrace.

It seemed to go on forever, as she felt the baby's head pass, and then the excruciating pain of the baby's shoulders, and then, with a sort of wet, slippery sound, the rest of the baby was expelled from her body, leaving her crying from the sudden relief. 

The loud wail of her third child filled the room.

She continued to push for a little longer, the afterbirth sliding out of her, and then she lay there, crying.

Quickly, the midwives washed her baby and her ladies and the midwives began to wash her as well.

"A prince, Rhaella." Aella whispered softly. "He's healthy and hale."

Rhaella let out a small groan of pain as she was laid back against the pillows, letting her son nurse.

"What's his name?" Danielle asked.

"Baelon. After my father." Rhaella answered. "Prince Baelon Targaryen."