He remembered the contents of the letter Aemond had sent him.
"Cousin."
Aemond took a step forward, his voice tinged with excitement.
Aemon raised a hand to stop him. "We'll see what's what, first."
"Alright."
Aemond was overjoyed. He pushed at the ugly head of his dragon, the "Sheep-Thief," to prevent her from scaring his new allies.
"Hah!"
The Sheep-Thief shook her head and swallowed the other half of the sheep. As she turned, her massive tail swung out and knocked her ungrateful rider off his feet.
Look at you, she seemed to think, so worthless.
It's 'Prince' this and 'cousin' that, but only when you want something.
You'll never have the courage to be the (self-proclaimed) King of the Wild Dragons.
"Sheep-Thief!"
Aemond yelled in despair as he hit the ground. She was ugly and had a terrible temper.
And now, she had embarrassed him in front of everyone.
Aemon sighed with melancholy, waved Vermithor away, and waited for the others to enter the gates of Dunstonbury.
He had stopped questioning Alicent's parenting.
No ordinary aristocratic education could produce two sons like hers.
He was beginning to doubt his uncle's genes.
In some ways, Daemon's bloodline was clearly superior to his uncle's.
His children were far more emotionally stable.
Unlike his uncle's sons, who would explode at the slightest provocation.
Sometimes, even without provocation, they would just explode.
Entering the castle, they were met with devastation.
The courtyard, once filled with vibrant flowers, was utterly ruined, as if deliberately trampled by a hideous dragon.
One of the castle towers was scorched black, its attic a dangerous wreck.
The rest of the buildings were relatively intact; after all, Aemond had no desire to live in ruins.
As Aemon appeared, the tightly closed castle gates swung open, and a throng of servants and guards fell to their knees.
"Who is in charge here?" Aemon called out.
"Prince, that would be me."
An elderly knight with golden curly hair and the sigil of a juicy peach on his tunic stood up timidly.
The "Peach Knight" was a local man, serving as the tax collector for Dunstonbury.
He was, in effect, the highest-ranking official left, as the castellan had died in the dragon fire and the master-at-arms had been taken away by their lord.
"Where is Unwin Peake?" Aemon asked sternly.
The Peach Knight answered without hesitation. "Lord Unwin retreated from the battle at the Mander. He fled first to Whitegrove, then withdrew all his forces from here and returned to Starpike."
"Wow," Aemond said with envy.
"They say a cunning rabbit has three burrows, and Unwin Peake has truly mastered the art."
He, a prince, did not have a single fief to his name. This man had three castles.
"Don't be envious. It's undignified," Aemon said, patting his head.
Aemond lowered his head, silently disagreeing.
"Hmm..." Helaena hesitated, wondering if she should tell him about Aegon being awarded the Hightower.
After some thought, she decided against it.
It was not the time to make Aemond explode.
"Prepare yourselves to welcome your new lord," Aemon said, his eyes calm as he pushed Aemond forward.
A Targaryen always kept his word.
His Highness had promised Aemond a suitable fief if he stopped Aegon.
He was a man of his word.
"Greetings, Your Highness!" the Peach Knight was the first to kneel again, and the servants and guards shouted in unison.
They had wanted to welcome the young prince and his ugly dragon for days, but he had refused to believe them, accusing them of treachery.
He would rather live in the wild than eat the bread they offered, and he even stole sheep from their pastures.
Tears of joy welled in their eyes.
Everyone's joys and sorrows are different.
As the servants of Dunstonbury wept with joy, Aemond's face flushed, his brain starved of oxygen from sheer excitement.
He had finally conquered this castle.
One man, one dragon, and now his own fiefdom.
"Rise, all of you!" Aemond commanded, imitating his cousin.
"Yes, Prince," the servants said, rising cautiously.
"Hehe."
Aemond lost his composure, scratching his head with an embarrassed smile.
He was, after all, just a boy who had never tasted real power.
"Don't celebrate just yet. This castle legally belongs to House Peake," Aemon said, pouring a bucket of cold water on his excitement.
"Then what do we do?" Aemond asked anxiously.
Aemon smiled faintly. "We eliminate House Peake."
King's Landing. The Small Council Chambers.
"You will not believe it! Daeron is so young, and he has already bonded with a dragon!" Viserys boasted to his ministers, his mood bright.
Lord Hand Lyonel smiled, helpless against the king's childish delight.
Prince Daeron was indeed exceptional.
At the age of six, he was already a gifted reader.
His potential as a warrior was also emerging under the training of Ser Criston Cole.
Coupled with his fine personality, he was, in short, a prodigy in every respect.
"I have no doubt he will surpass me, Your Grace," Tyland Lannister said, taking the opportunity to flatter the king.
"Haha, praise be to the Seven," Viserys laughed, then remembered the business at hand.
His nephew had sent a raven; the rebellion in the Reach was quelled.
The Hightowers were the main culprits and would be punished most severely.
The other vassals would be dealt with one by one.
May he not be too hasty and stir up more trouble, Viserys prayed silently.
It was good news, after all.
He did not yet know that his own two sons were about to be made Marcher Lords in the Reach.
Aemon's letter had also elegantly reminded him to reorganize the Small Council and give the hardworking Lord Thaddeus a chance for advancement.
Thinking of this, Viserys's smile faded. "Grand Maester Mellos is old, and his duties cannot be delayed. Write to the Citadel at once and urge them to select a suitable replacement."
Whether the other seats were vacated was another matter, but the Grand Maester had to be replaced.
That old dog Mellos just sat there, burying his head in his books.
Now that Oldtown had fallen and their benefactor, Mund Hightower, was dead, the Citadel would surely be more compliant.
"At once, Your Majesty," Lyonel agreed.
Viserys nodded, a touch of regret in his eyes.
Otto was gravely wounded, and the news of his family's ruin had been the final straw. He had collapsed and was unable to attend the council.
Without his backer, Grand Maester Mellos could only continue feigning dementia.
In the blink of an eye, two of his most veteran ministers were useless.
"Alas, how things have changed," Viserys lamented.
"Your Majesty," Tyland began cautiously, "Prince Qoren of Sunspear has written, hoping to arrange a meeting between Lady Aliandra and Prince Aegon."
"No!" Viserys refused without a second thought.
His eldest son would not be put in such danger.
Tyland looked distressed. "I know the prince's safety is paramount, but we agreed to a marriage alliance. We need to give them an explanation."
If the issue dragged on, what if Dorne turned against them? The royal family's reputation would be tarnished.
Viserys, though furious, understood the situation. "Write to Prince Qoren and ask him to be patient. Tell him I will give the matter serious consideration."
Admittedly, seeing their eagerness for the match did give him pause. Perhaps sacrificing one son's marriage could truly buy lasting peace.
"Your Majesty, I have good news," Corlys Velaryon interrupted, having enjoyed the show.
"Oh?" Viserys asked politely.
Corlys spoke slowly. "Prince Aegon's prospects were interrupted by the unrest, but his heroics with his dragon, Sunfyre, have impressed many. A noble lord has offered his daughter's hand."
"Who?" Viserys asked, pleased.
"Lord Donnel Tarly of Horn Hill, the very man who quelled the rebellion."
"Lord Donnel, you have finally arrived."
Aemon greeted the Tarly army at the gates of Dunstonbury.
"Forgive our tardiness, Your Highness," Lord Donnel said, dismounting and saluting.
Aemon waved off the formality.
He gazed upon the well-armored troops. One thousand Rowan heavy cavalry, five hundred Tarly archers, and a thousand Tarly infantrymen.
It was a small army, only twenty-five hundred men, but a professional one.
"Your Highness," Lord Donnel said sternly, "Unwin Peake is hiding in Starpike with five thousand men."
"If we wish to eradicate him, I suggest we first capture Whitegrove, then lay siege to his main fortress."
"Very well," Aemon said with satisfaction. "I leave this battle to you."
Unwin Peake was an ambitious man, more vicious than Otto.
More precisely, Otto wanted pure power. Unwin wanted power of any kind, good or ill.
Conveniently, House Peake had involved itself in the rebellion, giving Aemon the perfect pretext to destroy them.
"Yes, Prince!" Lord Donnel declared, leading his army to make camp.
Aemon turned to his cousins. "Let's go. First, to Whitegrove."
Helaena, dressed in a beige gown, nodded obediently.
Aemond gnawed on a carrot, his eyes filled with greed for the Peake castles.
He wanted all three: one for himself, one for Helaena, and one for Daeron.
When the three siblings grew up, they would each have their own castle.
Aemon smiled, sensing the boy's ambition. Good.
Dunstonbury was known as a "little Highgarden," and Whitegrove sounded suitable for farming.
He favored Starpike the most. It was the original seat of House Peake.
It was located on the Dornish Marches, east of Horn Hill.
In a future war against Dorne, it would be the perfect outpost for an army entering the Prince's Pass.
Because it was often harassed by the Dornish, Starpike's defenses were considerable.
Unwin Peake had five thousand men. Relying on dragons alone to burn the castle would be too costly.
Lord Donnel, who knew the land, was the perfect commander for this campaign.
To ensure his loyalty, Aemon had recommended a royal marriage.
Lord Donnel and his wife, Lady Jeyne Rowan, had a ten-year-old daughter named Samantha Tarly.
She was fiery, decisive, bold, and quick-witted.
Though four years younger than Aegon, she would undoubtedly grow into a strong wife who could manage him well.
---------------
You can read +100 advance chapters on my Patreon
Patreon(.)com/izan24
•TIER 1 you'll get +15 ADVANCE CHAPTERS
•TIER 2 you'll get +40 ADVANCE CHAPTERS
•TIER 3 you'll get +60 ADVANCE CHAPTERS
•TIER 4 you'll get +100 ADVANCE CHAPTERS