Time flies—it is now April.
The war in the Stepstones had ceased, and the two main islands lay quiet, with large and small ships moored along the shores.
Grey Gallows Island, Dragonhorn Castle.
"Your Majesty, 3,000 Second Sons and 2,000 navy soldiers are all here."
Rune Guard Robb Rivers bowed and saluted.
Aemon sat on a reef, issuing orders: "Distribute the soldiers across the two islands and use boats to patrol the sea."
"Yes, Your Majesty!"
Robb's expression was serious.
After a month, the southern half of the Narrow Sea gradually fell out of control. The Tyroshi mercenaries had split into two factions. One half looted both sides of the Strait with reckless abandon, while the other half launched an assault on the Tyroshi city-state. Myr took advantage of the chaos, shifting between the Tyroshi mercenaries and the Sea Snake's forces, continually escalating the conflict. The civil strife in Lys was nearing its end. Several governors, seeing an opportunity, sent troops to intervene in Myr, hoping to trigger a full-scale multi-faction melee.
In short, just one word summed it all up: Chaos! Utter, absolute chaos.
Aemon hadn't been idle either. He had pulled out the Vale's old expeditionary forces—3,000 Second Sons and 2,000 navy men. Alongside the 1,000 men of the royal navy, he deployed them to the Stepstones, an area no one had bothered with before.
His objective was clear. The Stepstones occupied a key strategic location—whoever controlled it would dominate maritime trade in the southern half of the Strait. It was a gate between the Triarchy above and the Hengyang Jicheng below. By holding the archipelago and focusing on training the 5,000 troops under his command, he'd be prepared to act the moment either side won.
Tap, tap, tap...
With the sound of approaching footsteps, Ser Ryam arrived and reported: "Your Majesty, Seagull Town can only accommodate thirty warships as spoils of war. More would clog the port."
Aemon asked, "How many ships are currently moored in the Stepstones?"
"About sixty—various sizes, new and old."
Ser Ryam responded. As Seagull Town's navy began to take shape, the Seagull Knight's value had risen, and he was promoted to navy commander. A single glance revealed the quality of the ships.
Aemon paused for a moment, then asked about their worth. The answer: impossible to estimate—but at least over a million gold dragons. No one could afford such a fleet.
"If we plan to sell, it's best to contact the Sea Lord of Braavos or Volantis," Ser Ryam advised.
"Keep them for now," Aemon said. "Use the captured pirates of the Triarchy to build fortifications first."
The chaos had lasted a month and a half. He used the pirates as practice for his dragonriding, capturing thousands during that time. Though castles had been built on Bloodstone Island and Grey Gallows Island, it wasn't enough. The Stepstones were made up of countless large and small islands. Some of the larger and more important ones also needed strongholds. Only by building a fortress network across the archipelago could he monopolize the sea routes. Whoever wished to pass through would have to pay handsomely.
Ser Ryam departed to carry out the order.
Aemon felt relieved. His core forces were now in the field for training. He had three Rune Guards, plus Ser Ryam, Adjutant William, and Earl Cameron as commanders. More than enough for a real war.
"Myr is still provoking and refusing battle..." Aemon pondered. He needed to find an opportunity to drag Myr into the conflict. The core interest remained the same: seize Myr! He had the capital to wage war—but still lacked the right moment to act and the framework to govern afterward.
Aemon turned his gaze toward the pirate captives laboring on the beach beneath the scorching sun. All of them could be exchanged for money. And that money could buy soldiers who were 100% loyal.
King's Landing.
Red Keep, Royal Hall.
Bang!
The heavy slam of a table echoed as Viserys cursed: "That bastard boy is treating the Stepstones like a slave market, looting pirate ships and enslaving pirates! I can only imagine what the Seven Kingdoms will say. He doesn't care about reputation at all!"
Prime Minister Lyonel spoke up: "Your Majesty, the pirates of the Triarchy are rampant. They're just trash—use them as such."
"Hmph!"
Viserys snorted coldly. Lyonel wiped his brow and sighed quietly. He could tell that the king wasn't truly angry—if anything, he was secretly pleased. For over a month, treasure-laden cargo ships had been arriving one after another at the Mud Gate. It would be strange if the king were truly mad.
"Prince Aemon engaged in warfare recklessly, causing countless deaths in the Triarchy. This reflects badly on the Iron Throne." Otto chose the worst possible moment to chime in.
Viserys immediately turned to him and laughed coldly. "Aemon killed countless pirates and projected our strength across both shores of the strait. Isn't that a good thing?"
"Senseless slaughter will bring the wrath of the gods," Otto said gravely, frowning with false pity.
Viserys was momentarily stunned. He had a point. Aemon had indeed killed a great many people—and without hesitation. That was a talent in itself. But Aemon was still young. Would this eventually twist his character? What if he turned into something worse? Viserys hesitated, considering whether to send a message for Aemon to take a break and reflect.
At that moment, Rhaenyra spoke. "Lord Otto, when the pirates of the Triarchy raised their blades against the innocent, did they fear the gods' punishment?"
"The gods have their own will," Otto replied solemnly.
Rhaenyra sneered. "Then thank the gods—and let Aemon send the pirates to meet them."
Otto's eyes darkened. Rhaenyra shrugged and idly played with her sword. She would never let anyone slander her young husband. She lowered her head, carefully polishing Light of the Kingdom. Acting like none of it concerned her.
Viserys looked at her, utterly helpless. Since her engagement, his daughter had grown more assertive by the day. She had even started practicing with a rapier again—he could only imagine which poor noble boy would suffer next.
After the brief interruption—
Tyland looked around, seeing no further opposition, and hesitantly reported: "Your Majesty, the conflict among the Triarchy has intensified and reached a boiling point."
"What about the Sea Snake?" Viserys' expression turned grim—his only concern was whether his old rival would die.
"The Sea Snake is worn down, but still hanging on," Tyland said cautiously.
Viserys' face soured even further. The Velaryon family had three dragons. Vhagar was the largest and oldest. Meleys and Seasmoke were also top-tier fighters. It would be hard for them to lose.
"However..." Tyland hesitated. "The Baratheon family has been offering substantial aid, drawing protests from many Stormlands nobles."
"Has Lord Borros given any explanation?" Viserys frowned.
"No." Grand Maester Mellos shook his head. The Baratheons had openly married into the Velaryons. They wouldn't be concerned with rebukes from the Iron Throne.
"Borros is getting worse with age!" Viserys cursed.
"Your Majesty, Duke Borros is old," Mellos added, drawing blood.
Viserys gritted his teeth—he understood. Old men always found new ways to cause trouble.
Lyonel thought carefully and said, "The Baratheons' actions are dangerous. If not dealt with swiftly, they could cause greater unrest. I suggest we summon Duke Borros to King's Landing to explain himself."
Otto agreed. The Seven Kingdoms belonged to the Targaryens—they must not be divided. Dorne was one thing. The Vale might still pledge loyalty to the Iron Throne, but in practice it was ruled by the Targaryens. Baratheon's behavior bordered on treason. It had to be dealt with.
"Very well, do it." Viserys knew what was at stake—and he'd been suppressing his anger for too long. The question was, who would go?
"As it's only a diplomatic mission, my eldest son Ser Gwayne could go," Otto volunteered. After the last disaster, he no longer dared to go himself.
Tyland whispered, "One man alone might not be enough to send a message."
"You can assign a Kingsguard to accompany him," Mellos suggested.
Everyone began proposing candidates.
"I'll go." Suddenly, Rhaenyra stood up.
The room fell silent. Viserys stared at his daughter in disbelief.
Rhaenyra looked around and calmly said, "Duke Borros favors the Sea Snake. No one else will sway him. I'll ride Syrax."
"This is not a joke," Viserys said, displeased. "You're still just a girl." What if something happened?
"Father, I'm also a dragonrider," Rhaenyra replied in High Valyrian.
"You're my heir—who will guarantee your safety?" Viserys responded in kind.
"That's exactly why—" She cut herself off and added with firm resolve: "I'm your heir, the only dragonrider you can send. I'll take responsibility until your sons come of age." Every dragonrider in the family had their role to play in this war. She was no fragile ornament. Unwilling to be a decorative flower.
"Rhaenyra..." Viserys was stunned. He never expected his daughter to be so resolute.
"Let me go, Father. I can do it."
Viserys chewed for a while and nodded dejectedly. "Keep yourself safe."
Rhaenyra immediately smiled brightly.
Afternoon.
Rhaenyra left the royal meeting early, intending to go to the Dragonpit to feed Syrax. On the way, she wanted to check on the young dragon Arrax, who could already fly and breathe fire.
"Rhaenyra, is the royal meeting over?" After walking a few steps, she ran into Alicent, who was coming her way.
Winter had come and gone quickly. By April in King's Landing, the snow had melted and the weather had warmed. But it was still a little chilly. Alicent wore a thick green silk gown with a brown vest draped over her shoulders. Her face was slightly red from the cold. It looked like she had been walking outside for some time.
"No, I came out early," Rhaenyra answered flatly.
The two did not get along and had no interest in chatting. Having said that, she turned to leave.
Alicent's expression stiffened, clearly offended. Unwilling to be brushed aside, she suddenly said, "I heard Aemon went to Tyrosh. Lady Laena is so beautiful and generous. They'll likely be engaged soon."
Rhaenyra stopped instantly.
"Don't worry. The Tyrosh war isn't over yet. They won't marry so soon," Alicent knew she had struck a nerve and smiled smugly. "You still have time to become Aemon's first wife."
Rhaenyra turned her head and stared at her.
"Am I wrong?" Alicent stood her ground, puffing out her chest. She was certain Rhaenyra couldn't retaliate, so she pressed on deliberately.
But—
Rhaenyra said nothing and suddenly stepped forward.
"What are you going to do?" Alicent panicked and backed up against the wall.
"Does your hand still hurt?" Unexpectedly, Rhaenyra asked an unrelated question.
Alicent froze and instinctively hid her hands behind her back. It was too late. Rhaenyra had already seen. Her delicate palms were covered in old and new wounds. Some fingernails were bleeding. They had been close friends for years. Rhaenyra knew her better than anyone. Whenever Alicent was anxious or nervous, she couldn't help picking at her nails until they bled.
"You're jealous," Rhaenyra's eyes remained calm.
Alicent flinched.
"I'm the queen!"
"After the engagement ceremony at Dragonstone, you haven't been sleeping well, right?" Rhaenyra crossed her arms with confidence.
Alicent's pupils shrank in shock. How did she know!?
"You're wondering if I planted a spy." Rhaenyra predicted her exact thoughts.
Alicent clenched her teeth, glaring with hatred. But her beauty softened the effect. Her eyes were red, and she looked more like a victim.
"You're always like this—utterly hypocritical," Rhaenyra sneered.
"I've no interest in spying on you. You asked Mellos for sleeping pills every night. Half the Red Keep knows."
"I don't know what you're talking about," Alicent stiffened and refused to admit anything.
"So you like Aemon?" Rhaenyra dropped a bombshell.
Alicent trembled and stared in disbelief.
"Your jealousy is too obvious," Rhaenyra shook her head. "You thought no one would notice, but you forgot how well I know you."
"You're slandering me! Apologize or I'll go to Viserys!" Alicent's hands twisted behind her as she shouted. It wasn't true. Rhaenyra was making it all up—wasn't she?
"Go ahead. Do you dare?" Rhaenyra was unfazed and even leaned in.
Of course Alicent didn't dare.
"What do you think will happen if I tell my father?" Rhaenyra took two steps forward, cornering her completely. She didn't need to say it. If Viserys knew, Aemon and Alicent would never meet again. Aemon might face questions, but with Rhaenyra's support, it would pass. But Alicent... would suffer.
"What do you want!?" Alicent tried to stay upright. This secret had been buried in her heart. If anyone found out, suspicion alone would be enough to doom her.
"Nothing. I just pity you," Rhaenyra raised her chin and sneered. "Aemon's a playboy. You'll never have a chance."
Alicent clenched her fists behind her back.
"Is Her Majesty the noble queen angry?" Rhaenyra tilted her head, smiling coldly. "Or just embarrassed because I exposed your feelings?" It was like karma.
Alicent's eyes turned fully red. Rhaenyra's words were sharp and accurate. Alicent didn't yet have the thick skin she'd one day develop. She couldn't help feeling ashamed and furious.
"Beg me." Rhaenyra looked down on her like a queen. "Beg me, and I won't tell anyone."
"...Please~" Alicent lowered her head and squeezed out a word.
"I didn't hear that."
"Please!" Alicent suddenly raised her head, swallowing her pride.
"Ha~~" Rhaenyra laughed. To Alicent, it was the most humiliating sound.
"Don't worry. I won't drag Aemon down with you," Rhaenyra stepped aside, allowing Alicent to leave.
But Alicent didn't believe her. It was clearly a threat—one that fit Rhaenyra's ruthless nature.
"Forget today. I won't mention it again. Let's pretend it didn't happen," Rhaenyra said plainly. "But don't provoke me again." Had Alicent not crossed the line, Rhaenyra wouldn't have gone this far. She called herself noble, but her desires were stronger than anyone's. And once exposed, she'd stay in her place.
Alicent said nothing. She didn't believe a word.
"Aemon is king of the Stepstones. You don't have to worry," Rhaenyra turned and walked away with composure.
Alicent's expression twisted. She had come after hearing her father mention criticism of Aemon—just to investigate. And now she'd been completely exposed.
"By the way." Rhaenyra paused and glanced back. "Helaena's dragon eggs haven't hatched after all this time. I doubt they ever will. I'm going to Storm's End soon. If you have time, take them to choose new eggs."
She added, "Or build a bond with Arrax. It's easier with young dragons."
With that, she left without looking back.
Alicent stood stunned in the wind. She couldn't believe Rhaenyra would be so... generous? Her children had the right to bond with dragons. But dragon eggs were placed in cradles at birth, and the rest kept in the Dragonpit and Dragonstone. Since the days of the Old King, dragon eggs and dragons had been under the control of the king and the crown prince. If Rhaenyra refused, as queen of a different house, Alicent had no power to request replacements. As for the young dragons in the pit—forget it. They came from eggs laid by Rhaenyra's own dragons. Everyone knew they were being saved for her future heirs.
On the other side, Rhaenyra had already walked away. She was composed, her face expressionless. Those who knew her well understood that when her face turned cold, her mood was sour.
Alicent was such a pain. And yet, seeing her humiliated didn't bring the satisfaction she expected. Alicent had betrayed her and married her father. But she was already suffering. That loveless marriage was slowly eating her away. She only ever smiled when she was with Aemon. That's how Rhaenyra had noticed the truth.
"Still so stupid. It's all written on your face." She rolled her eyes.
As for the dragon eggs and hatchlings—just let them go. One should have a generous heart. Even if someone ends up ungrateful, a clear conscience is enough. After all, she was the elder sister. The heir to the Iron Throne.
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