The birth of his second child did not succeed in diverting Kerse's thoughts from his true objective.
Qarth.
From the very beginning, his vision had differed from Daenerys's in the original history. While she dreamed of returning home, conquering cities only in passing and freeing slaves as a means to an end, Kerse saw something greater.
He did not want to conquer in order to leave.
He wanted to conquer in order to rule.
As a time traveler, from the moment he awakened in this world and made the decision to marry Rhaenys and Daenerys, his fate had been sealed: expansion, dominion, control.
This was not a forgiving world. Gods, magic, hidden travelers…
Here, weakness had no place.
Only through constant conquest can I gain support… and faith in me, he thought.
In his past life, when he still called himself Pickle, he had been a primitive man who fought dinosaurs for sheer survival.
In this life, the enemy had changed.
Now he was destined to fight gods… and others like himself.
…
In another room, far removed from plans of conquest, Rhaenys and Daenerys spoke in low voices.
"It has always surprised me that you managed to escape the Lannisters and flee to another continent while you were still just a child," Daenerys said as she watched the newborn sleep.
Rhaenys smiled faintly.
"Ha… I've always said it was the work of the god Thor, Horse-Head. It was a good story to help my husband gain status among the Dothraki," she admitted. Then her expression grew more thoughtful.
"But in truth, I've always suspected it was another being… or something else… that saved me. I even came to think it might have been my little brother."
"Aegon?" Daenerys asked, surprised.
"I don't know. I was terrified. Everything happened too fast. My memories of that night are… fragments."
Daenerys remained silent for a few seconds before speaking again.
"I've always respected you for staying here, helping Kerse. You could have returned to Dorne…" she whispered, stroking the baby's small head.
Rhaenys looked at her seriously.
"My father used to say that the dragon has three heads. So, naturally, the three of us must remain together."
Daenerys hesitated for a moment before saying:
"Dorne could help us. Troops, instructors… support."
"Impossible." Rhaenys shook her head without hesitation.
"Although I hid my identity at first, once I learned that Kerse planned to marry you, I stopped doing so. I even revealed it openly. And even then… I've received no response. Not even to verify who I am."
She sighed softly.
"Unless Kerse marches on King's Landing and is absolutely certain of victory, the Martells will not make a move. They will change sides, as they always do."
Otherwise… there was no hope.
Just as Daenerys was about to respond, the sound of footsteps interrupted the conversation.
Both women looked up.
And tensed.
The newcomer was a priestess of the Red God.
Although she had entered alone, both knew—because of Kerse's warnings—that the priests of the Red God never came without danger. Dark magic, omens, sacrifices… nothing good.
Rhaenys's heart began to pound. Instinctively, she pulled the child closer to her chest.
The woman was dressed in red from head to toe. A crimson silk hood concealed her hair and much of her face, revealing only eyes that seemed to burn with a fire of their own.
Rhaenys noticed something unsettling.
The priestess barely looked at her… or at the baby.
Her eyes were fixed on Daenerys.
"The chosen one," the woman said in a gentle voice, almost pleasant, yet laden with something that froze the blood,
"must return to the correct path."
"Return?" Daenerys asked, confused.
"To what correct path?"
The priestess smiled beneath the hood.
And the fire in her eyes seemed to intensify.