Ultimately, Rhaenyra was unable to convince Lord Bermund to travel to King's Landing.
However, she gained something else:
In the vestibule of Storm's End,
"Your Highness?" Lady Ellyn looked nervous, her excitement hidden in her eyes.
"Don't worry. Syrax is very docile," Rhaenyra said with a smile. She could already see her eagerness; she almost wanted to jump up and down.
"Roar!" Syrax shook his head in disapproval. His objection was ineffective.
Soon, the two women, one in front and one behind, mounted the luxurious dragon saddle covered with special fur.
"It's always like this the first time. Don't be afraid." Rhaenyra put her arm around Lady Ellyn's waist and fastened the chain securely.
A bright blush flashed across Lady Ellyn's face.
"Shh!" Syrax flapped his wings, took off in two strides, and rose into the sky.
The guards in the vestibule looked at each other in confusion, faintly hearing their lady's excited scream.
"What are you looking at? Go back to your duties!" Borros shouted as he left.
Unable to endure the journey, Borros and his wife were meant to travel to King's Landing instead. Lady Ellyn, who harbored fantasies about dragons, begged Rhaenyra to let her ride one. Not only was Borros without his wife by his side, but he also had to travel by carriage.
Rhaenyra said, "Borros, you're a wild boar, chasing dragons and eating their ashes."
Ten days passed in a flash.
The Stepstones.
After the first Dornish invasion, His Royal Highness learned his lesson and decided not to remain passive. Bloodstone and Grey Gallows Island would serve as the north-south boundary. There were two thousand men in the navy, one thousand in the royal fleet, five hundred in the Tarthian fleet, and three thousand Second Sons. About seven thousand men were reorganized.
The Second Sons were divided in two and stationed on the two islands. The remaining navy would form a patrol fleet and spread a large net around the two islands. Ships from the Seven Kingdoms would be left alone for now. Ships from the Free Cities would be intercepted, and exorbitant tolls would be levied. Dornish ships would be sunk on the spot.
Dornishmen would sail along the Summer Sea to Lys or Volantis. However, they would not be able to trade with the Triarchy, Braavos, or other city-states via the Stepstones. Block Dorne's access to the Narrow Sea. Implement a strategic blockade.
His Royal Highness is so stingy.
If not for the fleet's insufficiency and time constraints, he would have blocked the mouth of the Greenblood. Ban Sunspear from sailing. Watch how the Dornish buy scarce goods such as salt, iron, and cloth.
On the beach of Bloodstone Island, a Dornish cargo ship is anchored, and captives are being transported aboard by boat.
"Your Majesty, two hundred thousand gold dragons have arrived," said Lord Cameron cheerfully, his face flushed.
Aemon smiled and said, "The Dornish are fearless, but we won't kill them either."
Should they capture the captives? The old way is to notify Prince Qoren of Sunspear to pay their ransom. Considering that Dorne isn't as wealthy as the Free Cities, His Royal Highness mercifully lowered the price. Ordinary soldiers are free. A knight costs eight hundred gold dragons. A minor noble costs two thousand. A great noble or earl costs one hundred thousand gold dragons. Qoren Martell dared not refuse the ransom, swallowing his anger. He sent someone to redeem the man in disgrace.
"Your Majesty is truly wise and powerful, able to take money from the barbaric Dornish," said Lord Cameron, his compliments flowing freely. The Stormlands and the Dornish had been enemies for generations. Seeing the Dornishmen suffer was quite satisfying.
"Well, you and Ser Llane hold the Stepstones. I must be leaving," Aemon said, smiling as he rose.
Lord Cameron looked embarrassed, wanting to say something but swallowing his words. Aemon didn't care and mounted Vermithor. With a thunderous roar, they headed for Tyrosh.
Noon.
Tyrosh harbor.
A dozen large ships entered the harbor, each hoisting the Dragon Eagle trident and the Azure Seahorse banner.
"The sea is no safer than land, and the journey is long. Are you sure you want to take the risk?" Corlys asked, frowning.
"Of course. Saving money is for spending," Aemon smiled.
Seeing that he was unsuccessful, Corlys nodded gently. "It just so happens that I have some goods to sell from Volantis and Slaver's Bay. I'll send Laenor along." Corlys also sent a weathered first mate to command the fleet.
Aemon's smile faded, and he said solemnly, "Thank you."
After spending all this time in the Disputed Lands, he had accumulated a considerable sum of money. He also had over 3,000 captured pirates from the Triarchy who could fetch a small fortune. Besides the Stepstones, attacking Myr would require a large force. The Vale was his base, so temporary mobilization was acceptable. After the battle, however, the troops would have to be returned. Relying solely on the Second Sons wouldn't be enough to defend a Free City.
As early as two months ago, he had considered using money to "trade" for a powerful army that would obey him unconditionally. Slaver's Bay, Astapor. The world's most famous slave soldiers: the Unsullied!
"Laenor, is your dragon full?" Corlys called back.
"Yes!"
Beneath the Weeping Tower in the harbor, a young, pale, silver dragon crouched. Seasmoke lay lazily with its head held high as it devoured a charcoal-roasted goat. With a naive smile, Laenor climbed onto the dragon's back.
"Be careful. The lords of Slaver's Bay are greedy and cunning; they're not good business partners," Corlys warned.
"Be careful on the road." Rhaenys hugged her nephew, forgetting her son.
Laenor laughed awkwardly.
"Come back soon." He cupped Aemon's face, stood on tiptoe, and pressed a strawberry-red kiss on his forehead.
"Don't worry. It'll be all right," Aemon said reassuringly. First, the ancient Ghis Empire was destroyed by the Freehold Empire. Then, Daenerys, the "Mother of Dragons," overthrew its rule. Slaver's Bay was naturally afflicted by the Dragon riders.
"Hiss—"
Vermithor roared as he carried his farewell rider into the clouds. Seasmoke chirped melodiously and flapped its wings in pursuit. The two enormous dragons swiftly caught up with the retreating fleet. They intertwined and circled above the fleet like gods protecting it.
"Don't worry, Vermithor," Aemon whispered as he looked back across the strait.
Meanwhile, in Myr.
This city-state sits on the western coast of Essos and is protected by the vast, tranquil Myr Sea. To the east stretches the Valyrian Way. Considered one of the most advanced Free Cities, Myr is renowned for its arts and learning. Its large population creates a bustling daily life.
Currently, Myr is heavily defended, with thick patrols from the garrison on its walls. The port has been forced open and is brimming with ships of all sizes. After their defeat, Tyroshi mercenaries flocked here to rest and recuperate. Mercenaries are essentially villains. With so many of them roaming the city-state, one can imagine the immense trouble it poses to the governor and residents of Myr.
As the garrison patrolled, they spotted a small, unassuming sailboat entering the harbor. No merchants arrived for a long time after the war began.
When the schooner docked, members of the garrison approached and asked, "Who are you, and where are you from?"
A graceful figure draped in a long black gauze dress disembarked and replied, "I am a businessman."
Puzzled, the garrison members looked up and saw the cargo crate on the schooner. It was plain and painted with a cluster of alluring black roses in full bloom.
With a charming face, Johanna smiled softly and said, "We have a partner in the city. May we enter?"
A young man in emerald armor stepped out from behind her and tossed a clattering purse onto the ground. The garrison members frowned. Johanna's smile remained steady as she withdrew a token. The garrison members' expressions changed. It seemed to be a governor's pass.
"Enter!" They took the money, deciding it was better to avoid further trouble.
"Let's go!" Johanna swayed as she led the group ashore. A dozen red-robed men emerged from the schooner and habitually lifted the crates, following behind.
Time flew by. A month later:
Volantis.
"Hoo-ha!"
"Hoo-ha!"
Two enormous dragons, one in front and one behind, soared over the vast Summer Sea.
"Wuhu!"
Laenor cheered from his perch on Seasmoke's back. Although he hadn't inherited his father's adventurous nature, soaring with a dragon thrilled him just the same.
"There's a small island ahead," Aemon called out.
Laenor tilted his head and listened to his younger cousin's voice. Vermithor was flying too high and constantly overtaking Seasmoke. They had developed a tacit understanding because they were too far away to hear each other clearly.
Soon, they landed together on the green, unnamed island surrounded by the sea.
"Wow, how refreshing!" Laenor wiped his sweat and beamed with joy.
Aemon pulled out a palm-leaf fan from the Yi Ti lands and fanned himself vigorously. "Further ahead, we'll almost reach the Valyrian Peninsula." More accurately, it should be called the Sea of Smoke.
"Reaching Slaver's Bay will complete this trip," Laenor said, leaning forward to catch some air. It was May, and the Summer Sea was incredibly hot. Flying through the sky on a dragon, the breeze was warm. Though fire-resistant, Targaryens couldn't stand the humidity. Accustomed to the climate of Westeros, the Summer Sea felt stifling.
"Stay away from me. Don't let your sister down," Aemon said, cautiously retreating.
"I...don't," Laenor blushed. He had a few thoughts. The journey was long; a round trip would take at least three months. In the event of a storm or downturn in business, it could take more than six months. He took this opportunity to cultivate his feelings.
"Anything? Better not." Aemon's eyes seemed to be observing him.
Cold sweat streamed down Laenor's forehead. He wiped it and said, "Cousin, I have something I've been wanting to ask you."
"Think it over first." Aemon stepped back, shielding Vermithor against his chest.
"It's not that," Laenor said anxiously.
Aemon: ... As expected, the cunning Nantong.
"Listen to me." Laenor's face contorted, and he stammered, "How do you and Daemon get along?"
Aemon looked surprised. Had his brain short-circuited for him to ask such a provocative question? Did I even need to ask about my relationship with Daemon?
"Cousin, believe me, I really have my reasons." Laenor was dejected.
Seeing this, Aemon frowned and said, "Daemon only sowed seeds without watering them. When I grew up, I met him, and he gave me a gift." Then, he pulled two Valyrian steel daggers out from his back.
"That's not bad," Laenor said dryly.
Aemon said expressionlessly, "After that, Daemon became obsessed with getting close to the Iron Throne." After seeing that he had Laena, he tried to seduce Rhaenyra. Damn Daemon!
"What I want to ask is about my father." Pain flashed in Laenor's eyes, and he spoke with difficulty. "I went to the port that day and saw him with a silver-haired woman."
Aemon's eyes widened. The Sea Snake cheated!
Laenor nodded silently. Aemon sympathized with him and said, "Given Lord Corlys's status and position, there's nothing he can do." Such are the times. Aemon himself is cheating on four women, a complete scumbag. Aemon was too ashamed to stand on the moral high ground and point fingers at a sixty-year-old man.
"The problem is not which woman." Laenor couldn't help but add, "The woman has two children." One is two or three years old and follows her everywhere. The other has just been weaned and is in her arms. Her pupils are not visible, but her hair is silver-gold.
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