The ship bound for King's Landing sailed smoothly across the Narrow Sea. The salty breeze brushed over the deck, carrying the bustling scent of the distant capital.
Daemon Blackfyre stood by the railing, watching the white spray kicked up by the stern. The black three-headed dragon brand on his right shoulder glowed faintly red in the sunlight.
"What are you thinking about?" Daemon Targaryen's voice came from behind. He held two apples, tossing one to Blackfyre. "Worried about those old folks in King's Landing?"
Blackfyre caught the apple and took a bite. The sweet juice spread across his tongue. "Just wondering how many people there will believe I'm Prince Aemon's son."
"Relax." Targaryen patted his shoulder, his tone light. "With Grandfather and Father there, no one will dare gossip. Besides, you came back riding The Cannibal. A dragon's choice is the best proof." He pointed to the three giant dragons circling over the sea nearby. "Look, even Vhagar has accepted you."
Rhaenys walked over, followed by the curious Laena and Laenor. "King's Landing is much livelier than Dragonstone," she said with a smile, "but also much more complicated. The eyes of those nobles are sharper than sharks in the Narrow Sea; the slightest disturbance will have them talking for days." She paused, her tone softening. "But you are a Targaryen, and that is enough."
Corlys stood at the prow, frowning slightly as the outline of King's Landing became clearer.
He knew what kind of shock this suddenly appearing "Daemon Waters" would bring to the power structure of the Seven Kingdoms.
But watching the children getting along on the deck and seeing the rare ease in Baelon's eyes, he ultimately just sighed softly.
As the ship entered Blackwater Bay, the full view of King's Landing unfolded before them.
The Red Keep stood majestically atop Aegon's High Hill, its tower spires piercing the clouds, the three-headed dragon banner snapping in the wind.
The harbor was bustling with noise, ships of all sizes weaving in and out—a scene of prosperity.
When Daemon Blackfyre followed Baelon and the others down the gangplank and stepped onto the docks of King's Landing, he immediately felt countless gazes upon him—curiosity, scrutiny, awe, and deep-seated calculation.
Royal carriages were already waiting by the shore. The group boarded and headed for the Red Keep.
Inside the carriage, Baelon whispered advice: "When you are before Grandfather, there is no need to be nervous. Just be yourself. He is a wise king; he will see your true heart."
Daemon Blackfyre nodded, his palms slightly sweaty. He knew the man he was about to meet was one of the greatest kings of the Targaryen dynasty—Jaehaerys I, the Conciliator.
The Great Hall of the Red Keep was solemn and majestic. Jaehaerys I sat upon the Iron Throne. Though sixty-three years old, his gaze remained sharp, radiating kingly authority. Beside him sat the "Good Queen" Alysanne, her eyes gentle and loving. Royal family members and the Small Council stood on either side of the throne.
When Baelon led the group into the hall, all eyes focused on Daemon Blackfyre.
Jaehaerys I's gaze landed on Daemon Blackfyre's face. His deep eyes suddenly contracted. He stood up subconsciously, his voice trembling with disbelief: "Aemon? Is that you?"
The hall fell silent instantly. Everyone's breath seemed to stop.
Daemon Blackfyre's heart tightened. Just as he was about to speak, Jaehaerys slumped back onto the throne, his aged face filled with grief. "No, it is not you... Aemon died long ago under the crossbows of the Myrish." His voice was low and hoarse, filled with endless lament.
Just then, a white-haired old noble trembled forward. In his youth, he had been a squire to Aegon the Conqueror. Now, his cloudy eyes shone with excitement. "Like him! Too like him! Your Grace, look at his brow, his bearing—it is simply the Conqueror reborn! Compared to Prince Aemon, he looks more like Aegon the Conqueror!"
At these words, whispers erupted across the hall. The old men who had been fortunate enough to see Aegon the Conqueror nodded one after another, their eyes revealing astonishment.
Jaehaerys I examined Daemon Blackfyre carefully. After a long while, he spoke slowly: "Yes, there is a resemblance... Child, come here, let me look at you."
Daemon Blackfyre stepped forward and stood before the throne.
Jaehaerys reached out, gently stroking his silver hair, his gaze complex. "Your name is Daemon, correct? That child Aemon... compared to Baelon, he was always so reassuring. I never thought..." He didn't continue, but the sorrow in his eyes deepened.
Queen Alysanne walked over and gently took Daemon Blackfyre's hand. Her palm was warm and soft. "Child, you have suffered. From now on, this is your home. We are all your family." Her voice was filled with love and heartache.
To the side, Princess Gael, the "Winter Child," lowered her head shyly, stealing glances at Daemon Blackfyre, her cheeks flushing faintly.
Baelon's eldest son Viserys and his wife Aemma Arryn also stepped forward. Viserys spoke warmly: "Welcome, cousin. If you need anything, just tell me." Aemma nodded with a smile, her eyes full of kindness. Her belly was slightly rounded, nurturing a new life—Daemon's great-grandmother, the future Queen Rhaenyra.
Alicent Hightower, a handmaiden serving King Jaehaerys, stood nearby. Watching this handsome silver-haired, purple-eyed youth, her heart beat faster. A maiden's affection quietly sprouted in her heart, bringing a blush to her cheeks.
Jaehaerys I's choice of Baelon as heir had created some friction between Rhaenys's family and the Crown. But Daemon Blackfyre's arrival acted like a healing balm, quietly easing the relationship between the Royal Family and House Velaryon. Corlys watched Rhaenys chatting harmoniously with the royals, and the worry in his eyes gradually dissipated.
That evening, a grand welcome feast was held in the Red Keep. The hall was brilliantly lit, melodious music flowed through the air, and the royal family gathered together in a warm and lively atmosphere.
Queen Alysanne kept serving dishes to Blackfyre, asking about his well-being, as if trying to make up for all the missing care over the years. Though shy, Princess Gael stole glances at him from time to time, passing him exquisite pastries. Viserys and Aemma chatted with him about funny stories from Dragonstone, laughter constant.
Daemon Blackfyre felt a surge of warmth in his heart at this long-lost familial affection. This twelve-year-old body allowed him to receive more care and protection from his kin, a feeling he had rarely experienced in his rebellious past life.
However, beneath this joyful and peaceful surface, the dark currents of the game of thrones surged among the nobles of the Seven Kingdoms.
The gazes of some nobles swept back and forth over Blackfyre, their eyes glinting with calculation. They were pondering what changes this sudden "Orphan of Aemon" would bring to the power structure of the realm, and how they could secure the greatest benefit for their own houses in this new game.
The Small Council members laughed and chatted on the surface, but whispered in secret, discussing Blackfyre's identity and his potential claim to succession. Nobles distant from the royal family watched coldly from the sidelines, waiting for the situation to shift.
There were many dragonseeds in King's Landing, but only one who had truly claimed a giant dragon.
Daemon Blackfyre held his goblet, watching it all with clear understanding. He knew the peace was only temporary. With his arrival, the chessboard of power in King's Landing had quietly changed, and a new storm was brewing.
But for now, he didn't want to deal with that. He raised his goblet, gesturing toward Jaehaerys and Alysanne, then looked at the family around him, a sincere smile appearing on his face.
At least in this moment, he was just a child returned to his family, enjoying this hard-won warmth and joy.
As for those lurking undercurrents, let them ferment slowly in the night.
After all, he was Daemon Blackfyre, the Black Dragon riding on the back of The Cannibal. No matter the storm, he had the confidence to face it.
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