The first Dragon Council was hastily convened.
A few extra chairs were placed in the council hall.
Aemond took his usual seat and counted the attendees.
The Sea Snake and Tyland had arrived early.
The former sat in the Sea Lord's seat, while the latter awkwardly tapped his toes.
"Sit next to me, Lord Tyland," Aemond called out.
"Thank you very much."
Tyland climbed the steps and sat down next to Aemond, looking sullen but managed a polite smile.
"You're welcome," Aemond replied, smiling and waving his hand.
Aemond admired Tyland's talent.
After the Dance of the Dragons, the infamous "Hooded Hand" had passed the test.
He possessed both ability and character.
Due to his youth, however, he held no formal position on the King's Council.
If his uncle didn't want him around, Aemond wouldn't mind luring Tyland to Myr to work.
Tyland was still smiling, feeling grateful toward the Prince Regent, who had shown him kindness several times.
He wondered if the Prince Regent was trying to recruit him.
The Sea Lordship is gone—should I accept it?
A quarter of an hour later, the attendees began arriving.
First came Viserys, followed by Rhaenyra and Alicent, who was holding her young son.
Otto and Grand Maester Meros followed.
Otto represented House Hightower of Oldtown and was the Queen's father.
The Grand Maester sat outside the main table entirely, taking notes as a mere observer.
"Are we not late?"
Rhaenys arrived last, followed by Laena and Laenor, who remained silent.
Caught in the middle, Laena looked embarrassed, suggesting a minor conflict between mother and daughter.
"Take your seats," Viserys called out.
Rhaenyra immediately took her seat to Aemond's left.
Laenor, looking downcast, sat in the empty Hand's chair.
Across from them sat Otto, Rhaenys, and Laena.
Grand Maester Meros had no seat, so he and Ser Harrold stood behind the king, acting as his guardians.
"Is Daemon here?"
Viserys glanced around, noticing someone was missing.
"We've sent people to Silk Street and Flea Bottom to look for him," Ser Harrold reported in a low voice, glancing at the crowd.
Viserys nodded.
Everyone present was a blood relative, and everyone knew what Daemon looked like.
Viserys took a moment to glance at his nephew, who was playing with his identity stone ball. He felt conflicted.
His nephew's words were like a preventative strike.
He suddenly recalled his actions toward Daemon and wondered if he was prejudiced against him or indebted to him.
The answer was no.
Viserys covered his face, speechless.
Why ask for a divorce for no good reason?
He had seen Lady Rhea before, with her impeccable appearance, figure, and huge estate.
Daemon, on the other hand, wouldn't stop complaining about the smell of sheep manure.
Besides the Valyrians, everyone has body odor. Take a flower petal bath and spray some perfume, and you'll smell delicious.
"Damn Daemon!" Viserys thought, annoyed at his ungrateful brother.
Aemond turned his head and caught his uncle peeking at him.
Viserys quickly looked away.
He had a vague feeling that his nephew had something more to tell him.
But after their conversation, the matter was closed.
Indeed, it was.
Aemond twirled the stone ball on the table, thinking about the "Binding Charm."
He had originally planned to make a copy for his uncle and give it to the royal family for safekeeping.
Now, he had changed his mind.
This strategically important inheritance would be better passed down to his own descendants.
After mastering the fourteen ancient dragon-taming techniques, Laena and Rhaenyra could be taught.
The others could forget it.
At most, he would instruct them to master the techniques and hone their skills.
Later, he would make it public within the family, allowing for direct instruction.
"When will I have a cub?"
Aemond propped his chin up with one hand and poked Rhaenyra's flat belly.
Rhaenyra: 😐
Seeing that no one was paying attention, she brushed away his mischievous hand.
Tap, tap, tap...
Just then, footsteps sounded outside the door.
Daemon had a sour face, as if everyone owed him eight million Gold Dragons.
He hadn't left King's Landing but had gone to Silk Street to get drunk.
Even if he had to leave, he couldn't do so in disgrace.
"Sit down," Viserys said.
Daemon didn't respond but sat down below Laenor.
"Well, everyone is here. What does the king have to say?"
Corlys leaned back in his chair and gestured.
His attitude was flippant and impolite.
Rhaenys glanced at him, silently warning him.
Corlys straightened up.
"The Dragon Council was promoted by Rhaenyra and Aemond to foster friendship between our houses."
Viserys pretended not to notice Corlys's disrespect and smiled.
"Before we begin, I would like to explain the personnel changes in the Small Council."
Tyland raised his head and immediately became alert.
"Lord Corlys is the new Lord High Admiral, responsible for taxation in Westeros and the ports of the Three Cities."
Viserys confirmed the appointment first.
Corlys's eyes flickered as he pondered the importance of the Dragon Council.
He was familiar with its purpose, but he knew that the voting system for awarding dragonriders would be impossible to implement.
During Viserys's reign, at least, the probability of this happening was close to zero.
However, the fact that House Velaryon could sit on the Council of Dragons—even if it were just symbolic—spoke volumes about the family's unique status.
"Tyland," Viserys began.
"Yes, Your Majesty!" Tyland rose eagerly.
"The kingdom's territory stretches across the Narrow Sea. With the addition of the Stepstones and three city-states, we need exceptional talent to strengthen management."
Viserys chuckled.
"I have decided to create a new position on the Small Council: Foreign Secretary. You will fill it."
He then explained the responsibilities of the Foreign Secretary.
The Foreign Secretary would have to manage both tax revenue and trade with the Stepstones while maintaining relations with King's Landing and the three city-states.
Now that the three cities were under the Iron Throne, trade with Dorne was imminent.
However, Prince Qoren would have to be desperate enough to go to war with the Iron Throne, which was at its peak.
Once trade was established, the Foreign Secretary would manage it and travel to Dorne.
Furthermore, taxation was unclear with the three newly annexed city-states.
A loyal member of the royal family was needed to oversee the new Lord Admiral, the Sea Snake.
"Yes, Your Majesty!"
Tyland was overwhelmed with excitement as he accepted the honor.
Although Foreign Secretary wasn't as prestigious a position as Lord Admiral, he was still a Lord Chamberlain.
If he were dismissed, his status would plummet.
Aemond tapped his cheek lightly with his finger, wondering what Tyland was so happy about.
To put it bluntly, the Foreign Secretary was just a glorified errand boy.
He treats people like beasts of burden.
It would be better to kidnap him and let him live carefree as a cow or horse in Myr.
Tyland reveled in the moment, sitting down and tugging at the Prince Regent's sleeve, eager to share the joy.
Aemond grinned in agreement.
Rhaenyra slapped her forehead, rolling her eyes to the ceiling.
"Just spoil him!"
After this little hiccup, Viserys solemnly explained Aemond's engagement to Laena and the details of the marriage.
"Why should anyone marry two wives?" someone interrupted sourly.
"Shut up, Daemon!"
Viserys sulked.
After reviewing the situation, Daemon, feeling he had lost the argument, demanded, "He can marry more openly. Why can't you be lenient with me for once?"
"I've been lenient with you enough, Daemon!" Viserys raged.
"Then do you recognize my wedding?"
Daemon suddenly calmed down and stared intently into his brother's eyes.
Viserys was stunned by the question, his expression changing unpredictably.
There he goes again.
Acting like a child.
Viserys sighed deeply and bowed his head. "I'm sorry I haven't spoken with you more often or had open conversations."
Heeding his nephew's words, Viserys realized that more communication was necessary.
"Every time we talk, it's like you're trying to push me away," Daemon said coldly.
"That's because you always make mistakes, and I'm the one who has to clean up after you."
Viserys's eyes widened, and he slammed the table.
Daemon scoffed.
Viserys braced himself and said gravely, "I can tolerate your mistress, but the child won't bear the Targaryen name."
He acquiesced helplessly.
Lys isn't Westeros; it doesn't have such strict traditional constraints.
Of course, no one could restrain Daemon.
Viserys could allow Daemon to marry another woman of his choice and turn a blind eye.
But the child wouldn't be recognized.
This was clearly not the answer Daemon wanted, though.
"I'm not a child anymore, Viserys," he said silently, staring at him.
He picked up the flagon, poured a glass of wine, drank it all in one gulp, and sat down in silence.
His achievements didn't earn his brother's respect.
But his brother's apology deeply touched him.
Suddenly, he felt a little uncomfortable.
Even though he hadn't achieved his goal, he couldn't stay angry.
Viserys was exhausted and just wanted to end the meeting, go home, get drunk, and sleep well.
If the other party had known how to protect their reputation, they wouldn't be so hated.
One wave of trouble had not yet subsided.
Otto's eyes were deep. He said, "Marrying more than once goes against the Faith of the Seven and tradition."
"This is the King's decree," said Corlys unhappily.
"Since the Conqueror, there have been no more cases of multiple marriages."
Otto quoted the classics and spoke eloquently: "Besides, the special law that His Majesty the King signed with the Faith of the Seven did not include any provision for multiple marriages."
The special law stipulated that the Targaryens believed in the Seven Gods and protected the spread of the Faith of the Seven.
In return, the Faith of the Seven gave up its armed forces, tacitly allowed the Targaryens to abide by the "marriage" tradition, and sent missionaries to inform the people on the mainland.
"Times have changed, Lord Otto."
Corlys sneered sarcastically, "If anyone disobeys, let the Seven Gods come to me. Or let the towering tower of Oldtown witness Vhagar's flame."
"You!"
Otto leaped to his feet.
"What do you think?"
Corlys slammed the table and rose to his feet, exuding vigor and fearlessness.
Aemond quietly applauded, observing this.
This father-in-law is capable and will really take action when necessary!
"Sit down!"
Viserys glanced back and forth. First, he called down Otto, who was embarrassed. Then, he said, "You too, Lord Corlys!"
"Hmph!"
Corlys snorted and gave Otto a scornful look.
He had left the Small Council before and knew who was behind it.
Things were different now, though.
The second son of House Hightower was trying to pull his old tricks again, so Corlys didn't blame him for flipping the table.
Aemond enjoyed the show, looking at his father-in-law with admiration.
Someone like this was fit to be on the Small Council.
So cool!
"All right, it's settled. No one can change it," Viserys said, making the final decision.
Otto had no choice but to swallow his anger for the time being.
Alicent held her young son and scanned the group.
Especially Laena.
Upon hearing the news, a hint of relief crossed her face, and she leaned over to look at Aemond.
Aemond raised an eyebrow, making her laugh.
He laughed too.
He wouldn't abide by his uncle's agreement with the Sea Snake—Driftmark would eventually become Targaryen.
The main goal was to eat and take.
Soon, the council moved on to the management of the three city-states.
The council ended.
Viserys smiled and said, "It's rare to have so many family members present. From now on, we can hold a family council every once in a while."
"We'll obey the call," Rhaenys said cheerfully.
She enjoyed this atmosphere and valued the Dragon Council.
From an institutional perspective, it would surely be of great significance once her nephew took power.
After the greetings, everyone left.
Aemond was sandwiched between Laena and Rhaenyra, enjoying the faint fragrance of orchids and the sweetness of cream. It was like a full banquet.
Suddenly, Daemon blocked his way.
"What's the matter?"
Aemond's good mood was ruined.
Looking at the two girls, Daemon said coldly, "Your mother is not a qualified wife. I will definitely dissolve the marriage."
"You'd better dissolve the marriage."
Aemond shook his head. "You're not a qualified husband either."
Not even a qualified father, uncle, or brother.
"You just found a good woman."
Daemon didn't change his mind and walked away without looking back.
Aemond's face wrinkled.
People really laugh when they are speechless.
If he hadn't thought it would be a bad idea, he would have wanted to kill the other party in the Stepstones.
If he wanted to dissolve the marriage, he would find a way to convince his uncle.
If that didn't work, he would return to Lys and live a simple life.
He had to make requests that others wouldn't agree to and force them to agree.
There must be something wrong with his brain.
One could only say that there are too many mental health issues in the Targaryen family.
"Let's go."
Laena took his hand, not wanting to become too involved.
Aemond nodded. "Okay."
"A letter from the Vale says the generous Lord Barkin is in trouble."
Rhaenyra fished in her pocket and said, "The Three Daughters have been broken. The Iron Bank of Braavos is making things deliberately difficult. Some investments in Gulltown have been discounted."
With more money, you need to make more money.
Save it in the Iron Bank and regularly invest in businesses.
The Iron Bank always has various reasons for not wanting to pay out money.
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