Interlude — King's Landing
"A kingdom is not held together by swords and crowns, but by the quiet compromises made in dark chambers." — Unknown
(Small Council — Third Person POV)
Even with nobles arriving from across the realm, the small council continued its work, though some seats sat empty. At the head of the table sat King Jaehaerys Targaryen himself, the fourth King of the Seven Kingdoms. To his right, the Hand of the King's chair was vacant—Septon Barth was running late. On the king's left sat Grand Maester Elysar, an aged man who had delivered not only the king's children but several of his grandchildren. Yet his greatest accomplishment had been overseeing the construction of the Dragonpit.
Beside him sat Rego Draz, a banker from Lys and the current Master of Coin. He had restructured the Crown's finances, bringing stability and prosperity. Thanks to his efforts, projects like the King's Road were possible. Still, many Westerosi lords regarded him with suspicion, wary of a foreigner holding such power.
The seat of Master of Laws remained empty—Prince Baelon was away on an errand. The Master of Ships' chair was also unfilled. Lord Corlys Velaryon had resigned long ago, furious that his wife, Princess Rhaenys Targaryen, had been passed over for succession in favor of Prince Baelon. Since Aegon the Conqueror's reign, the office of Master of Ships had belonged to House Velaryon. Now it sat abandoned.
"Where is Septon Barth? It's time to begin," Rego Draz asked, his accent still foreign to Westerosi ears.
"Yes, Your Grace, it grows late. Shall we start without the Hand?" asked Grand Maester Elysar.
"No. I will wait for Prince Baelon as well," the king replied.
They didn't have to wait long. The doors swung open as Prince Baelon entered, paying little heed to those assembled. No one minded; they were used to his brusque ways.
Prince Baelon Targaryen, "the Spring Prince," was bold and rash. He had little taste for politics, though he understood the game well enough. His mother, Queen Alysanne, often scolded him for his bluntness. Though reckless, he was never corrupt. When named Prince of Dragonstone, Baelon had tried to overturn the decision, wanting Rhaenys to inherit as promised to her father, Prince Aemon. But after Aemon's death by a Myrish crossbow bolt, the king had changed his mind. No matter Baelon's protests, Jaehaerys stood firm. Queen Alysanne left King's Landing in protest and vowed never to return until her husband rescinded his decision. Her absence had stretched on; she had not set foot in the capital since.
"You're here, Baelon. Tell me—what is it?" the king asked.
"You know very well, Your Grace," Baelon replied, an edge to his voice.
"I could have your head for that tone, boy. You will show respect in my court," Jaehaerys warned sharply.
"Forgive me, Your Grace," Baelon said, though his tone lacked true contrition. "I'm weary from my journey. It won't happen again."
The king frowned deeper, but before he could respond, Septon Barth entered. "Forgive me, Your Grace. I was seeing to the care of our guests."
Septon Barth was old, even older than the king. He had served as Hand of the King nearly forty years. Once a humble stonemason, he had risen to be the second-most powerful man in the realm, guiding Jaehaerys through sweeping legal reforms. He had also authored Dragons, Wyrms, and Wyverns, a key text on dragonlore.
"I see," the king said. "Make sure every guest is well attended. Now—what of the city's security?"
"The Gold Cloaks are stretched thin," Baelon reported. "With so many lords arriving, it's a golden opportunity for thieves. Just yesterday, my men caught a rapist trying to force himself on a noble's daughter. He's in the dungeon awaiting judgment."
"Make an example of him," the king ordered. "Put his head on a spike for all to see."
"But, Your Grace, these are only temporary measures," Grand Maester Elysar interjected. "When Queen Alysanne was here, crime was at an all-time low. Now it feels like every day another man swings or is sent to the Wall."
A heavy silence followed, darkening the king's expression. Even Baelon, usually unbothered, fell quiet.
It was Septon Barth who broke the stillness. "Your Grace, are you certain about the marriage pact between Prince Daemon and Lady Rhea Royce? From what I've seen, they'll make each other miserable."
"Yes, Your Grace," Baelon added. "I have my doubts. Shouldn't we wait, or at least let me speak with him?"
"There will be no delay," the king declared. "Daemon will do his duty to House Targaryen. If he refuses, I'll disown him. That is final."
No one challenged the decision; they knew how stubborn the old king could be.
The council turned to lesser matters until Septon Barth raised another issue. "Your Grace, the Starks have arrived. I believe this is a good time to discuss the New Gift. It was granted to the Night's Watch by the queen herself, but according to a letter from the Lord Commander, the Starks have begun using it again."
"What's the problem?" Baelon asked. "The queen shouldn't have given it away without consulting Lord Stark. And now they're facing food shortages. I say we return the land officially and be done with it."
"But my prince," Septon Barth objected, "the Starks are using land without the Crown's permission. It shows they don't respect royal authority."
"Oh, please," Baelon scoffed. "There's never been a Stark who broke his oath. Lord Rickon Stark has honored the vows his ancestors swore to Aegon the Conqueror. If he wanted to defy us, he'd demand the land back outright—not quietly ask for help with food. If that's not loyalty, I don't know what is."
"My prince, you call them loyal, but their actions say otherwise," Septon Barth argued. "Why did they suddenly reclaim the land?"
"Perhaps I can answer that," Grand Maester Elysar offered.
"You know something?" Baelon asked.
"Yes, my prince. I received a letter from the maester at Castle Black. I was about to inform His Grace before the topic arose."
"Well? What does it say?"
"The Lord Commander and Lord Stark reached an accord," Elysar explained. "The Night's Watch is leasing the New Gift to the Starks in exchange for food and weapons."
"Can they do that?" the king asked.
"Yes, Your Grace," Elysar confirmed. "The Night's Watch doesn't fall under the Crown's jurisdiction. They're free to use their lands as they see fit. They lacked manpower to maintain it. By leasing it to the Starks, they solve their burden, and the North solves its shortage. It's a clever move by Lord Stark."
"That's not all," Rego Draz added. "Since the land legally belongs to the Night's Watch, we can't tax it. The North benefits without costing the Crown."
"You cannot allow this!" Septon Barth cried. "You must reclaim the land and punish the Starks for their audacity!"
"On what grounds?" Baelon countered. "They've broken no law. Their deal doesn't affect the Crown—not even in taxes."
"But my prince, these tree-worshipping heathens—"
"That's enough, Barth," the king interrupted sharply. "I'll speak with Lord Stark myself. This meeting is adjourned. You may all leave—except Baelon."
The council bowed and filed out, leaving father and son alone.
"Tell me, Baelon," Jaehaerys asked quietly, "what did she say?"
"She refused to acknowledge your summons," Baelon answered softly. "Father… are you sure you won't see her? It's been two years. Her health declines with each passing day. Yet still you won't go. You've refused every request—not for Rhaenys, then at least for Saera—"
"You will not speak that whore's name in my presence!" the king thundered.
Baelon fell silent.
"I cannot leave King's Landing. This city needs its king," Jaehaerys muttered, regaining composure. "What of the Velaryons?"
"They sent congratulations on the birth of my daughter," Baelon replied. "Nothing more."
"I see. And Viserys? Aemma?"
"They're well. Their hands are full with little Rhaenyra. She's a dragon through and through—even her egg hatched in her cradle. Her dragon guards her fiercely. It's beautiful, with golden scales." Baelon smiled fondly.
"That's good."
The king's gaze turned to the Blackwater Bay beyond the windows. "You may go, Baelon. I wish to be alone."
Baelon bowed and left, leaving the old king staring over the darkening waters.