Larys Strong: What are children, but a weakness? A folly? A futility? Through them, you imagine you cheat the great darkness of its victory. You will persist forever, in some form or another. As if they will keep you from the dust. But for them... you surrender what you should not. You may know what is the right thing to be done, but love stays the hand. Love is a downfall. Best to make your way through life unencumbered if you ask me.
Rhaenyra Targaryen: Dark rumors are hunting us, Laenor. They nip at our heels. Questions about our sons' parentage. Vile, disgusting insinuations.
Laenor Velaryon: Insinuations, are they?
Rhaenyra Targaryen: They are our sons! Yours and mine. And their true father will not abandon them now to go carousing through the Narrow Sea, waggling his sword and winking at his sailors.
Alicent Hightower: You are nearly a man-grown. How is it that you can be so shortsighted? If Rhaenyra comes into power... your very life could be forfeit. Aemond's as well. She could move to cut off any challenge to her succession.
Aegon Targaryen: Then I won't challenge...
Alicent Hightower: You are the challenge! You are the challenge, Aegon! Simply by living and breathing! You are the King's firstborn son and what they know, what everyone in the realm knows in their blood and in their bones is that one day, you will be our King.
Viserys Targaryen: Will I be remembered as a good king, Lyonel?
Lyonel Strong: Your Grace?
Viserys Targaryen: What will they say of me when the histories are written? I have neither fought nor conquered, nor suffered any great defeat.
Lyonel Strong: Some might call that good fortune.
Viserys Targaryen: It hardly makes a good song, does it? To be sung at feasts in a hundred years... five hundred.
Lyonel Strong: You have carried King Jaehaerys's legacy. And kept the realm strong. Is it not better to live in peace than to have songs sung after you are dead?
Criston Cole: I'm asking you to come with me away from all of this. From the burdens and indignities of your inheritance. Let us leave it all behind and see the world together... where we'll be nameless, and free... free to go where we like, to love as we like. In Essos... you could marry me. A marriage for love, not for the crown.
Rhaenyra Targaryen: I am the crown, Ser Criston. Or I will be. I may chafe at my duties, but do you think I would choose infamy in exchange for a bushel of oranges or a ship to Asshai?
Rhaenyra Targaryen: I know this union is not what you would choose.
Laenor Velaryon: I hold nothing against you, cousin.
Rhaenyra Targaryen: No, I... rather... Dare I say it is a matter of taste? I prefer roast duck to goose. I cannot say why.
Laenor Velaryon: It's, it's not for a lack of trying. There are those who like goose very well.
Rhaenyra Targaryen: I find it a bit greasy for my taste. I know that whatever agreement being struck up there will not change your appetites, nor will it change mine.
Laenor Velaryon: And what do you propose?
Rhaenyra Targaryen: That we perform our duty to our fathers and to the realm and when it's done... each of us dines as we see fit.