-Chapter 194-
-POV Aemon Targaryen-
"And it is the knight from the Riverlands, Ser Gerth Montowers, who wins this axe-throwing competition!" shouted the Herald to the roaring crowd.
'Finally over,' I thought as I stood up the moment the competition ended.
After everything that had happened over the past few days, I had condensed all the events into this single day so that the tournament would end quickly and not drag on longer than necessary.
We had shown all we needed to our bannermen, and it was time for them to go home.
"It was about time this ended," said Gunthor in a grumpy tone.
I smiled and said, fully agreeing with him, "Good thing I had the presence of mind to launch the qualifiers for the final rounds of the various trials while we were still dealing with Laenor's death."
"Hmm," muttered my uncle before asking, "And now?"
"And now, we must prepare to destroy House Hightower's influence in the Reach—and more importantly—we must break its hold over the Faith and its followers."
"Easier said than done," said Gunthor, who had seen with his own eyes the madness that simple words could cause among the Faith's well-indoctrinated sheep.
"It will be a difficult task, but most of all a delicate one, because if I want to get my hands on Dorne before our dear king passes, I'll have to make use of the Hightowers' influence I seek to dismantle," I said, and Gunthor shook his head and rolled his eyes.
"And all that while trying to recover the Basilisk Isles right under the noses of the Free Cities," he added, clearly not as confident as I was, subtly implying that I was being too greedy for his taste.
I smiled without replying, just shrugged, for I alone knew that only a few years remained before our dear king would pass, and I had to consolidate my hold over these new territories before then, to prevent any individual—or even an entire state—with bad intentions from taking advantage of the chaos that would erupt upon Viserys' death.
With those territories under my control, even if the Volantenes, the Braavosi, or even the Ghiscari slavers tried to ally with Rhaenyra or Aegon, I would control all the seas from Volantis to Eastwatch-By-The-Sea.
'They won't be able to do anything without slamming into my blockade'
And the economy... the economy of the known world will lie in the palm of my hand.
'One word from me, and I could plunge a city like Myr or Tyrosh into an unprecedented crisis'
"The queen sent her son to your family's ancestral seat," said Gunthor, and I could feel the disgust in his voice when he spoke of the queen.
And I could understand it perfectly, because ever since Bryndon Hightower's death, Laena had sunk into a sadness that was becoming increasingly concerning.
She didn't blame me outright, but I could feel that she regretted some of her actions.
'Some of the actions she took under my direction'
I brushed aside thoughts of Laena that were distracting me from the conversation and replied to Gunthor, saying, "It wasn't the queen who sent him there, it was the king."
"And you don't disagree with that?" he asked me cautiously, as we were still surrounded by many prying ears ready to report our words to their masters.
"Why would I?" I asked, not the least bit concerned, dodging my uncle's question.
He frowned, understanding what I was doing, and murmured, cornering me: "He could claim a dragon."
"He's a prince of House Targaryen. If he wants to bond with a dragon, then let him," I said simply.
Gunthor said nothing more, merely watching me, but I didn't add anything either, because deep down, I thought the same.
I didn't mind at all if Aemond got his own dragon, especially one capable of fighting—and for two reasons.
First, I wasn't in conflict with him. On the contrary, I was one of the rare people he and his brother might hope to receive help from someday, if they both proved useful.
Second, I was well aware that I would not live forever, and that all dynasties fade with time.
I didn't want to establish an unfair rule that would deprive one of my descendants of a dragon if they hadn't done anything to deserve such a punishment.
'That would be the creation of a dangerous precedent that could accelerate the fall of my dynasty'
Seeing my uncle's confusion, I waited a few moments until we reached our mounts, and once mounted, I nudged mine forward to move away from the crowd, while my guards carved a path for us through the throng, escorting us back to the Red Keep.
Once more isolated, I said: "Just because I publicly defend Rhaenyra doesn't mean I forget her children are bastards. She may fool everyone into believing she gave at least one child to Laenor, but we both know she was pregnant even before marrying him."
Gunthor looked away, for like most people around me, he thought I should ally with Rhaenyra to destroy the Hightowers once and for all.
But that was not my intention.
Rhaenyra had certainly changed and was no longer a vain fool, but she still sought, by all means, to prove to everyone that she'd be a good ruler—perhaps the best this continent has ever known.
'With that kind of mindset, she'll undoubtedly seek to free herself from my authority'
And the question of her children's legitimacy was an aggravating factor, as it cast doubt not only on her virtue, but also on her children's claims to the positions she wished to place them in.
"She wants to use Viserys to force me into war on her behalf," I said, then added, "Her two sons have both bonded with dragons that hatched from eggs, but not the last one. Why?"
"To claim a dragon old enough to fight," replied my uncle instantly, easily grasping her intentions.
I nodded and said: "Exactly. And it wouldn't surprise me now that Laenor is dead if she tries to get my father into her bed."
"And Lady Johanna?" he asked, for we were both well aware of the little comings and goings between the two.
"I don't know what my father is thinking at the moment, but I know he's always had a certain attraction to that crown," I said, not having full trust in Daemon not to give in to the lure of the throne, before continuing: "Rhaenyra will find another man soon to bear more children. She wants to build an army of dragonriders who, 30 or even 40 years from now, could force me to bend the knee without ever lifting a finger. She's playing the long game—and I'm perfectly aware of it—because that's the game I excel at."
"She's taking a big risk," said Gunthor, well aware of the risks of repeated childbirths.
"Yes, a risk she knows I won't take by forcing Laena and Jeyne to get pregnant. And since I'll have no bastards…"
"She can beat you on that front," said Gunthor, for the moment, we had the same number of children.
I smiled and said: "Beating quality with quantity is a solid strategy, but whether she survives all those pregnancies and the trials ahead… that remains to be seen."
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