Evening.
Inside the council hall.
Stacks of official documents piled up like a small mountain on the desk. Aemond, expressionless, buried himself in his work.
The dim golden sunset bathed his long hair, turning it into a striking shade of silver-gold.
On either side of the desk, a pair of siblings were busy with their own affairs.
Helena rested her cheek on one hand, idly playing with a sapphire, her expression showing clear disinterest.
Every so often, she glanced at the door, growing increasingly bored as she watched it remain tightly shut.
Aegon lounged in a chair directly in front of the desk, legs sprawled out comfortably, sitting in whatever way suited him best.
Just then, the maids arrived with dinner.
Aegon grabbed the wrist of a young maid and refused to let go, his face full of playful flirtation.
"Why isn't there any veal? Has the Red Keep really fallen into such poverty?"
"..."
Aemond, long accustomed to his foolishness, couldn't be bothered to respond.
Helena, looking somewhat listless, waved her hand at the maid in distress, signaling for her to leave.
"Thank you, Princess."
As if granted amnesty, the maid quickly shook off Aegon's wandering hand, grabbed the tray, and fled as fast as she could.
Bang!
Just as the maid reached the door, it was pushed open from the outside.
"Slow down."
Rhaegar's gentle voice accompanied his movement as he held the door open and helped Rhaenyra inside with careful steps.
Rhaenyra nodded slightly, cradling a small bundle in her arms as she entered the room.
Compared to that morning, she looked noticeably better.
Not only had she changed into a blue gown, but she had also taken the time to freshen up and groom herself.
"Your Majesty."
The maid gasped in surprise and hurriedly stepped aside, not daring to raise her head as she slipped out the door.
Rhaegar's eyes narrowed slightly. When he caught sight of Aegon lounging around carelessly, a dangerous glint flashed across his gaze.
Feeling the weight of that look, Aegon immediately sobered up as if doused in cold water. He quickly stood and made room. "Rhaenyra just gave birth—why is she up and about already?"
Seeing him act so sensibly, Rhaegar withdrew his gaze and responded calmly, "The servants kept urging me, so I came to check on things myself."
As he spoke, Helena put down the trinket in her hand and stepped forward to support Rhaenyra. "Come, sit down."
Rhaenyra allowed herself to be led to a seat, adjusting the bundle in her arms before responding, "It's nothing. The maester said a little movement after childbirth helps with recovery."
As she spoke, her gaze subtly swept over the desk.
Aemond, having paused his writing, looked up at his bustling siblings. He calmly took the sapphire from the desk and pressed it back into his empty eye socket.
"Was everything smooth?"
Aemond asked softly, his single eye fixed on the tiny bundle in Rhaenyra's arms.
Rhaenyra smiled brightly. "Yes, everything went well. It's a girl."
"Let me see."
Aegon leaned in, poking at the baby's cheek while rummaging in his pocket.
A moment later, he pulled out a ruby necklace and grinned. "A birth gift for my niece—straight from Volantis."
"I thank you on Visenya's behalf."
Rhaenyra smiled as she placed the necklace inside the swaddling cloth.
"It's nothing."
Aegon puffed out his chest, putting on the airs of a wealthy man, and didn't forget to shoot Aemond a smug look.
Big brother has money.
Aemond, unimpressed, averted his gaze.
The Stepstones occupied a prime location, collecting hefty tolls from passing ships every year.
On top of that, Myr and Lys had invested in the construction of two small docks on Bloodstone and Grey Gallows, attracting merchant vessels to stop and rest mid-journey.
Aegon, on the other hand, had only built a few brothels and still managed to empty the sailors' pockets.
Ignoring his younger brothers' silent competition, Rhaegar got straight to the point. "The Stepstones will see a tax increase this year—another one and a half percent on top of the existing thirty percent."
"What?"
Aegon exclaimed in shock and immediately protested, "Isn't thirty percent enough? I'm already barely scraping by!"
Rhaegar smirked coldly. "Myr takes forty-five percent, and Lys takes fifty. Do you have a problem with that?"
Over the years, the three Free Cities had formed a continuous trade route with the Stepstones, Dorne's coast, and the Summer Sea.
The steadily increasing profits had greatly enriched the royal treasury.
Aegon wanted to argue, but he swallowed his words at the last second.
The thought of his wine cellars overflowing with rare vintages made him grit his teeth and concede. "Fine, raise it—but just this once."
Any more, and his lavish, spendthrift lifestyle would be in jeopardy.
He'd end up as poor as Aemond.
Rhaegar didn't bother responding. His amused expression said it all.
Helena added, twisting the knife, "The Stepstones can handle up to a sixty-five percent tax rate. The Small Council already discussed it."
Aegon: …
His heart ached. Suddenly, he had no desire to stay in King's Landing any longer.
Rhaegar ignored him. The tax increase was inevitable. Even Stormhelm, which had little trade, paid thirty-five percent.
Resting his hand on the chair's arm, his sharp gaze landed on Aemond as he got to the real matter at hand. "Any pressing issues that need handling?"
The moment he spoke, his entire demeanor shifted into something commanding and authoritative.
Rhaenyra hesitated for a moment, then subtly pulled Helena aside to focus on the baby.
Aegon had nothing useful to contribute, so he wandered to the balcony and slumped into a chair, mourning his soon-to-be-lost tax revenue.
Aemond handed over a report buried at the bottom of the pile. "News from Tides, concerning the Sea Snake's succession."
"The Sea Snake?"
Rhaegar pondered. "I thought he was leading the fleet on patrol near the Disputed Lands?"
In recent years, Volantis had frequently used its alliance as an excuse to enter the Disputed Lands, covertly facilitating large-scale smuggling and pirate activity.
As a member of one of the noble families of Lys, the Sea Snake held the position of Grand Admiral, tasked with eradicating crime.
Aemond One-Eye, his gaze deep and piercing, said, "You should see for yourself. The letter's sender is the Sea Snake's nephew."
"Tsk."
Rhaenyra curled her lips in displeasure and emphasized, "Another inheritance dispute? The Velaryons are truly relentless."
Rhaegar took the letter and skimmed through it, his expression also turning sour. "Marlon Velaryon… How many times has he stirred up trouble now?"
This man, the Sea Snake's cousin's son, was already well into adulthood.
And yet, he remained childish and stubborn.
Aemond leaned back in his chair and crossed one leg over the other. "So, what's the plan? Ignore it again?"
Rhaegar glanced at him and replied indifferently, "Send word to Aunt Rhaenys. In a few days, I'll take the children to visit the Driftmark."
Some matters had to be settled sooner or later.
Aemond nodded, then looked toward Rhaenyra, who was soothing a child. "Is she coming?"
Rhaenyra furrowed her delicate brows and answered for Rhaegar with a rhetorical question: "Why wouldn't I?"
"Suit yourself." Aemond shrugged, his tone casual.
Handing the swaddled infant to Helaena, Rhaenyra narrowed her eyes at him. "If you have time to worry about me, you should focus on marrying Cassandra and fulfilling your duty of alliance."
"I have my own plans. Storm's End will be mine sooner or later," Aemond replied coolly, meeting her head-on.
Aegon, standing behind him, widened his eyes in amusement as he watched the drama unfold.
Everyone in the court knew that Rhaenyra and Aemond did not get along.
Whenever Rhaenyra appeared, Aemond was usually absent.
But seeing them clash directly like this was a rare sight.
Rhaenyra fixed her gaze on Aemond, suddenly recalling Alicent, who was confined in the Sept at Harrenhal. She opened her mouth, ready to retort.
"Enough. Let's check on Visenya first," Rhaegar said, placing a hand on her shoulder and whispering near her ear, "The children are growing up. We should show them respect."
Though his voice was low, his words carried across the room.
Rhaenyra clenched her teeth, forcing herself to suppress her irritation.
Rhaegar gently rubbed her shoulders before turning his gaze to Aemond, his tone calm yet firm. "Rhaenyra is right. You've already had your coming-of-age ceremony. Do you expect me to host a tournament for you just to create more spectacle?"
Under Rhaegar's unwavering stare, Aemond felt a prickling discomfort and, somewhat awkwardly, uncrossed his legs, sitting properly again.
In his heart, Aegon and Helaena had always been his closest blood relatives.
Rhaegar, as the eldest, was someone he deeply respected and acknowledged.
But when it came to Rhaenyra, his half-sister, no matter what, he simply couldn't warm up to her.
Rhaegar, however, didn't press the matter further.
The tension between Rhaenyra and Aemond had been brewing for years.
Their relationship had been tolerable in the past, but everything changed three years ago when Rhaenyra proposed that Myr and Lys jointly invest in building a port for Aegon's Stepstones.
The imbalance in support caused their relationship to deteriorate.
But there was no way around it.
Stonehelm already had a port and didn't require additional investment.
Geographically, it was not as crucial as the Stepstones, as it lay along the Dornish coast, where trade was far less active.
With a sigh, Rhaegar softened his tone. "You really should marry Cassandra. Father has been pressing me about this."
Aemond turned his head and redirected the attention elsewhere. "Then you should worry about the one standing behind me. He's been married for years and still has no heir."
Aegon froze for a moment before protesting indignantly, "We're talking about you right now!"
"Quiet. Did he mention your name?"
Rhaegar shot the two of them a look of exasperation and reprimanded, "Including Visenya, I have six children already. Can't either of you step up?"
"Hmph!" Aegon grumbled in frustration.
Rhaenyra glanced at Rhaegar briefly before lowering her head, continuing to soothe her daughter.
Helaena spoke softly, "Seven."
Rhaegar turned to her, startled.
Saying nothing further, Helaena simply took her little niece's tiny hand and gently swayed it, her eyes shining with warmth.
Rhaenyra's expression shifted slightly, her gaze complicated.
Aemond's single eye flickered with suspicion before he changed the subject. "Alright. After the Driftmark visit, I'll return to Storm's End and take care of it."
"You should have done that sooner."
Aegon clicked his tongue, dismissing Helaena's words as nonsense.
Rhaegar's eyes flickered slightly as he picked up the conversation. "Get ready. The Sea Snake will be back soon."
With that, they each went their separate ways.
---
Seven days later, Blackwater Bay.
Screech—
Several massive dragons soared through the sky, their wings cutting through the vast ocean breeze.
Glutton flew at the forefront, its pitch-black wings casting a wide shadow over the sea as its massive body glided just above the water.
On either side of it were two golden-scaled dragons, gleaming like they had been forged from pure gold.
Each one measured over thirty meters long, roughly a fifth the size of Glutton.
The sky was a brilliant blue, with fluffy white clouds drifting lazily.
Screech!
A gaunt, bony dragon known as the Mud Wyrm darted through the sky, agile and erratic, scattering clouds as it flew—its movements as cunning as a seasoned trickster.
Despite its emaciated form, the Mud Wyrm was swift. Its brown wings stretched wide, catching the salty ocean wind with ease.
Whoosh—
Above the clouds, powerful gusts howled.
A massive dragon with pale blue scales glided silently, its enormous frame effortlessly surpassing the Mud Wyrm as it flew with unhurried grace.
Among the dragons, it was the second-largest in size.
Only Glutton, the strongest of them all, surpassed it, stretching over a hundred meters long.
Escorted by the dragon flight, a three-masted ship bearing the banner of the three-headed red dragon drifted with the wind.
Faintly, the cries of young dragons could be heard from within.
Onboard, sailors bustled about, careful to avoid the main deck.
Ever since His Majesty ascended the throne, Westeros had undergone quiet but undeniable changes.
The most obvious of all—
Whenever the royal family traveled, dragons always accompanied them.
---
Tidehead Isle.
Hulltown, Port.
Several dragons soared overhead, heading toward High Tide.
The royal vessel docked at the port, and the Kingsguard were the first to disembark.
Oooooh—
Just then, a deep and resounding horn blast echoed through the air, drawing everyone's attention.
At the outer edges of the harbor—
A massive and imposing warship, flying the banner of the seahorse, slowly sailed into port.
"It's the Sea Snake!"
"That's my lord's ship! Someone, alert the others!"
"..."
The sight of the warship immediately sent a stir through the harbor, and patrol soldiers rushed forward in droves.
Beyond the fact that it was the lord's personal vessel—
There was something alarming about its appearance.
The ship's hull was charred black, and most of its banners had been burned away, as if it had endured relentless battles.
Even from a distance, the scent of blood and scorched wood lingered in the air.
(End of Chapter)