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Chapter 192 - Chapter 192: Reaction in King's Landing, Breaking into Sunspear City

In addition to making life difficult for the Iron Throne, this is akin to a blockade of shipping routes. Sunspear will be cut off from maritime trade with the Narrow Sea, leaving essential goods such as salt, iron, and cloth in short supply.

It's like having your lifeline held in someone else's hands. Prince Qoren is no fool; he will definitely intervene.

Aemon tutored, his eyes slightly cold. Attacking Dorne is the Targaryens' politically correct approach.

"The Dornish fleet has recently been probing the Stepstones repeatedly, posing a significant threat to the rear," Laena said, feeling helpless. This behavior is like an irritating toad, even to the most vulnerable.

"I'll handle this." Aemon knew that to capture Myr, he had to address the Dornish aggression first. According to his plan, he wasn't afraid of a Dornish attack that would leave him vulnerable from both sides. However, he didn't want to lose the Stepstones and needed to minimize losses.

After the discussion, everyone returned to their rooms.

A neglected Laenor: "...." Isn't anyone paying any attention to him?

King's Landing:

"Quack, quack..." A flock of white seabirds flew by. The weather in King's Landing in August was pleasant. Viserys looked out the window with a smile on his face.

"Winter is over, and another year of good harvests is upon us." The maesters of the Citadel predicted short winters in the coming years. With advance preparation, the people could survive the winter safely. After winter, a hotter-than-usual summer would follow. The land would produce more food.

"How wonderful!" Viserys beamed. The throne had been passed down to him from his grandfather, and he had lived up to his expectations.

Knock, knock! A knock sounded on the hall door, and the royal counselors entered. News had arrived from the Stepstones, so an impromptu royal meeting had been convened.

"Sit down," Viserys called, taking the main seat first.

"Father," Rhaenyra smiled and moved around to the main seat, kissing her father's cheek affectionately.

"You reek of dragons. Riding dragons again?" Viserys sniffed, his words harsh.

"Teach Helaena and the others dragon-taming techniques. They'll need them in the future." Rhaenyra smiled and returned to her seat.

"You always have an excuse." Viserys doted on her, tacitly approving. How long had it been? His daughter hadn't been this close to him in a long time. When had she regained her composure? It seemed to be during the period when Alicent had been silent.

The ministers took their seats, and Hand Lyonel was the first to speak. "Your Majesty, Prince Aemon has returned from Slaver's Bay with fifty ships' worth of silks, spices, and other valuable treasures."

Rhaenyra interjected, "Aemon brought eight ships' worth of goods to Mud Gate. I have sent men to take possession of them and bring them to the treasury for entry."

"I can attest to that." The old man Linman finally made his move and raised his hand. Rhaenyra smiled sweetly at him. This was fair teamwork.

"Is that so much?" Viserys was bewildered and stunned. Fifty ships' worth of goods—what did that even mean?

Let's put it this way: The Sea Serpent had made a small profit, if any, on his first nine voyages. It was only on his final voyage to Asshai that he purchased twenty new ships from Qarth and loaded them with spices, elephants, and the finest silks. Some of the treasures were lost on the return journey, yet the rare and precious goods they brought back alone made House Velaryon the wealthiest in Westeros—even richer than the Lannisters and the Hightowers.

Viserys's head was buzzing, and he covered his forehead, muttering to himself. "Gods! Could this boy have plundered Slaver's Bay to bring back so much cargo?"

Lyonel was speechless and whispered, "Your Majesty, you are right." Lyonel hadn't just plundered Slaver's Bay; he had turned Astapor upside down. An entire slave-trading city-state had been enriched by one man. It was no surprise that Prince Aemon could bring back so many ships' worth of goods.

"According to reliable sources, there are fifty more ships carrying five thousand Unsullied and three thousand young slaves." Otto's eyes were deep, and he turned the stone ball on the table.

"You say he's trading slaves?" Viserys was shocked.

"Everyone believes it, and it's not just a rumor." Otto replied affirmatively.

Viserys frowned, considering the matter. He had already learned from Laenor about the "big things" Aemon had done in Slaver's Bay. Aemon had liberated the city-states of Astapor and New Ghis and was hailed as the "Breaker of Chains" by the local residents.

"Father, those are not slaves; they are free men he liberated." Rhaenyra frowned. She knew her father was caught up in an unimportant dilemma again.

"Uh..." Viserys thought for a moment and smiled. "You're right. Aemon did nothing wrong." However, liberating the slave city-states might provoke revenge from Meereen and Yunkai, who were also in Slaver's Bay. However, the continent of Westeros was thousands of miles away. He was not at all panicked.

Seeing this, Otto silently shut up. When did the Royal Council split into two factions? Some things are better left unsaid, so as not to provoke the king's dissatisfaction.

Viserys was delighted by the goods his nephew had sent him. They must be worth countless gold royals. Feasts and tournaments would be held again.

"Ahem," He coughed lightly before getting down to business. "The Triarchy is weakened by unrest, and the Dornish have intervened. What are your thoughts?"

"Your Majesty, I advise waiting and seeing," Lyonel replied. The kingdom had no reason to attack the Free Cities, nor could it afford the high cost of war. It was better to play it safe than worry about the losses of war.

Viserys nodded slightly in agreement. He didn't want war unless it was absolutely necessary.

Rhaenyra pursed her lips and said nothing. She was a radical who believed passive defense was inferior to active offense. The Triarchy could attack the Iron Throne, and vice versa. Unfortunately, she knew her father would not agree.

"Your Majesty, Prince Qoren of Dorne has been very active recently," Tyland took the opportunity to speak.

"Oh?" Viserys was surprised.

Tyland continued, "Prince Aemon has occupied the Stepstones. The geographical location of that desolate archipelago is too important. The Dornish will not sit idly by."

Lyonel frowned and said, "The kingdom cannot give up the Stepstones; otherwise, the situation will only worsen." In the past, the king was cautious, and the Triarchy was watching, too. The kingdom has never reclaimed the Stepstones. With Prince Aemon's rise to power and the Triarchy's internal strife, now is the time to seize the Stepstones completely.

"Yes, it was I who ordered Aemon to conquer the Stepstones," Viserys said, patting his chest in his nephew's defense.

Tyland hesitated. "Everyone knows the situation in the Disputed Lands. Prince Aemon is sharpening his sword, and the Dornish will inevitably fight back, sparking a greater war." The Dornish have always sought peace through struggle. If war breaks out, the kingdom will be plunged into further turmoil.

Hearing this, Viserys silently twirled his emerald ring. Occupying the Stepstones ensures stability in the lower half of the Narrow Sea. However, a Dornish invasion would plunge the Reach and the Stormlands into conflict. It's a waste of time!

"Father, we can't retreat," Rhaenyra warned.

Viserys nodded. "You're right. You can't just spit out what you've already eaten. The Dornish want to fight, and concessions won't stop them. They will only be encouraged to press forward. The Stepstones must not be surrendered!"

Grand Maester Mellos spoke: "Your Majesty, Prince Aemon has gathered too many troops in the Stepstones. He is clearly pursuing the same strategy as the Sea Serpent."

"Attack the Free Cities?" Viserys had already suspected as much.

Mellos lowered his brows and said, "Prince Aemon's army numbers nearly seven thousand, and with the addition of five thousand Unsullied, it exceeds ten thousand."

"By joining forces with the Sea Serpent and the dragons, it's possible to capture a Free City." He spoke the truth.

However, Viserys's brows grew wider as he listened. He ignored the rest of the conversation, catching only one sentence: "Aemon and the Sea Serpent have joined forces."

Viserys felt a mixture of emotions. He was angry that Daemon had joined forces with the Sea Serpent but was mostly just wary. He had high hopes for his nephew. If Aemon had joined the Sea Serpent, Viserys would have been heartbroken.

Viserys felt a headache coming on and raised a hand to rub his temple. Aemon had been having an affair with Laena, and Viserys couldn't sever Aemon's connection to the Sea Serpent. This was a major destabilizing factor.

Seeing the king's embarrassment, Mellos glanced sideways, his gaze meeting Otto's. The latter nodded, his voice low.

"Your Majesty, the Sea Serpent has already taken over a Free City. If Prince Aemon follows suit, the Dornish will surely be driven mad." They knew the king's Achilles' heel was the Sea Serpent and Daemon. The mere mention of them made him suspicious.

As expected, Viserys was torn. On the one hand, he wanted his nephew to obey him to maintain peace. On the other hand, he knew his nephew was a difficult child who would disobey even if disciplined. Disobedience would result in estrangement between uncle and nephew.

"Let's call it a day for today!" Viserys said, distressed, wanting to be alone.

"Yes!" The royal courtiers left the table.

"Father," Rhaenyra said with concern.

"It's all right. Go down and rest first." Viserys said without looking up.

Rhaenyra had no choice but to leave, looking back every few steps. She had made up her mind. Later, a raven would deliver a message to Aemon, warning him of the possibility of his father betraying the revolution.

Soon, Aemon, who was still on the Stepstones, received the letter. A quick glance revealed his uncle's concerns and his own predicament.

"When we encounter a problem, we solve it," Aemon said, thinking clearly. Everything was fine, but the Dornish had insisted on creating a problem. Since he couldn't solve the problem, he would solve for the one who created it.

"Roar!" Vermithor stood atop the cliff, head bowed, and growled at its rider. It sensed its rider's will.

Boom!

Spreading its wings, Vermithor leaped from the mountaintop and crashed down onto the beach. Aemon raised his hand to shield himself from the scattering sand. When the dust cleared, Vermithor crouched on the ground with one shoulder resting on the sand.

Without a word, Aemon mounted his dragon's back.

"Shh!" Vermithor roared, spreading his wings and soaring high into the sky.

At noon, the sun shone brightly. Man and dragon flew out of the Stepstones and spotted a small Dornish fleet in the waters off the Broken Arm. Aemon glanced at the fleet but ignored it.

Boom!

Vermithor flapped his wings and rushed to the deserted coast of the Broken Arm. Upon entering Dorne, they saw that the ground was covered with yellow sand and golden light. Aemon took out his compass and confirmed the direction.

Just a quarter hour later, north of the Greenblood River on the southeast coast, a brown city appeared. To its west was a small, sandy peninsula surrounded by the sea on three sides and enclosed by three curved walls. The capital of Dorne and the seat of House Martell: Sunspear.

"Forward, Vermithor!" Aemon looked and gave the order.

Sunspear is called a city, but it's actually only the size of a small town. Shadow City lies to the west in the shadow of Sunspear's tall, curved walls. Its streets are dirty and messy with irregular shops and taverns.

"Hiss—"

Vermithor's copper-bright, vertical pupils were cold. He flew over the triple gates of Shadow City and headed straight for Sunspear's brown walls.

At the same time, Prince Qoren had just finished a meeting and was walking into the Spear Tower corridor.

Boom!

Suddenly, the glass windows of the entire tower trembled, and a pair of massive bronze wings blocked the sky.

The next moment—

"Hiss—"

An enormous bronze dragon fell from the sky and landed in the leafy front yard of Sunspear. Its huge, ferocious head crashed into the Spear Tower's corridor.

Qoren's pupils trembled as he stared at the giant beast in front of him.

"Gurgle—"

His throat rolled up and down as he swallowed hard. His whole body stiffened in an instinctive state of self-preservation.

At that moment, the giant beast slowly lowered its head, revealing the dragon saddle on its broad back.

Aemon looked him up and down. Surprise flashed in his eyes, and he smiled warmly.

"Prince Qoren, what a coincidence."

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