"Come in," Corlys said first, then added, "Grand Maester Orwyle."
Mellos's old face immediately turned ugly.
Viserys felt it was a bit cruel, but the Grand Maester was appointed by the Citadel, and there was nothing he could do.
Orwyle stood still, waiting for the king to personally call him, and then slowly stepped forward.
"Your Majesty," Mellos said, standing up tremblingly.
Viserys, not wanting to be sentimental, interrupted him, "The kingdom thanks you for your years of hard work, Mellos."
Mellos's body stiffened and he slowly closed his eyes. After a moment, he opened his old eyes, which were like dead water, and walked out of the hall silently. His hunched back was shrouded in despair and sadness.
Orwyle brushed past him, and the young man's straight posture formed a sharp contrast with his fat and hunched back. At that moment, it seemed as if a dark shadow had passed.
Bang!
Two Kingsguards closed the door, blocking the view from inside and outside.
Viserys paused for a moment, then suddenly smiled. "Welcome, new Grand Maester! You bring fresh blood to the Small Council."
Clap, clap!
The king led the applause, and Orwyle nodded sheepishly, thanking him profusely.
"From now on, the record-keeping duties of the court and the responsibilities of the ravens will be yours," Viserys smiled, but his heart was distracted.
"I believe Maester Orwyle will have new news for us," Corlys, noticing the king's distraction, took over the direction of the Small Council. He scoffed at the king's softness. Mellos was only the first Grand Maester to retire due to age during the reign of Viserys I. In his opinion, that was a good outcome.
"Oh?" Viserys was surprised. "You've got access to information so quickly?"
Orwyle was rather reserved. He pulled a letter from his sleeve. "No. Coming from the Citadel, I know more than the ravens."
Viserys didn't bother to read the letter, leaving it to the Hand.
"Your Majesty, this is not a good situation," Lyonel's face darkened.
Viserys read the letter with a mixture of disbelief, his calm mood after the interruption plummeting. The message read: "House Peake exterminated."
"That bastard!" Viserys's vision darkened, and he nearly fainted.
"Let us see," Tyland quickly took the letter and passed it to Corlys. It was spelled out in black and white: House Peake had rebelled, and the king's children had captured Starfall on dragons.
"Well, I'm afraid this will have a huge impact," Tyland said, wiping his sweat. Prince Aemon was still as fierce as ever, wiping out a powerful family with a long and rich heritage right off the bat.
Corlys disagreed, smiling faintly, "The redefinition of the Dragon Council is simply to appoint dragon riders and suppress rebellious families." The civil unrest in the Reach was, to put it bluntly, the eldest and third brothers teaming up to fight the second. The three brothers patted each other's butts, offering apologies and compensation. They had wiped out the youngest brother, House Peake. Was it justified? Absolutely!
"It's suppression! Suppression!" Viserys was enraged. "He didn't even give them a chance to atone. He just uprooted them." How many times had this happened? House Waywood of Ironoaks, House Shat of Gulltown... House Peake of Starfall became the third family exterminated by Aemon.
"How could he be so cruel!?" He couldn't understand. How could he just wipe out the nobility without even a chance to pass on the inheritance to a collateral line?
Corlys: "Aemon did this to intimidate the nobles of the Reach."
"He's already demolished House Hightower. Isn't that enough?" Viserys's forehead vein bulged.
"You should be used to this by now," Corlys said calmly.
Lyonel tried to persuade him, "Prince Aemon once slaughtered the slave owners of Astapor and Meereen, and Slaver's Bay is still fighting against slavery today."
Viserys looked surprised. You know how to persuade. Aemon didn't slaughter all the nobles in Westeros. Should I thank him?
"You're welcome, Your Majesty," Lyonel said, self-satisfied. "Think about it from another perspective, and perhaps you'll find it easier to accept."
"I can't accept it at all," Viserys said, his face darkening. It was a pity he couldn't speak it out loud. It wouldn't be conducive to unity!
Corlys smiled, "The Reach is at peace, and the princes and princesses are gaining experience. It's a win-win situation."
"I'd rather not do anything," Viserys retorted.
Corlys was stunned. The other ministers, in perfect sync, glanced at the king with strange eyes.
"Ahem..." Alicent blushed and muttered, "Viserys, you've said too much."
Viserys: "...it's best you didn't hear that."
Lyonel and Corlys looked away, understanding the king's dilemma. He was middle-aged, after all.
Tyland was shy; he wasn't married yet. He didn't understand what the king was saying.
Turning back, Grand Maester Orwyle looked calm, silently taking notes. A maester, not interested in women.
"Write to him, and tell him to return quickly. I'll teach him a lesson," Viserys said, breaking the awkward silence, but still furious.
Orwyle did as he was told.
"Hmph!" Corlys chuckled, saying nothing, yet seemingly saying everything.
Viserys was secretly annoyed. Since Corlys's return to the council, the two sides had been living in a mutually exclusive, non-interfering relationship. It seemed the civil unrest in the Reach had distracted him. Corlys had spotted his weakness and once again engaged him head-on.
Knock, knock, knock! A knock on the hall door interrupted their subtle exchange.
"Come in!" Viserys shouted.
Kingsguard Cole entered, looking a little bewildered. "A letter from Sunspear, Your Majesty."
Why was the king so furious?
"A letter from Qoren?" Corlys frowned.
Viserys glanced at him, displeased that he had taken the initiative to bypass him.
"Bring it here, ser," Alicent observed.
Cole handed over the letter and sauntered out the door.
"Let me see," Tyland was the Foreign Minister, primarily responsible for this area. As he read it out to the public, his expression grew even more erratic.
Prince Qoren's letter was indeed correct. He wrote that he longed for a marriage with the Iron Throne and, to that end, had sent envoys and a niece by ship to King's Landing to further establish friendly relations.
"A weasel paying a visit to a chicken," Corlys sneered.
Viserys's eyes flickered as he asked, "What do you think?" He didn't believe a word of the letter.
"We have an envoy from Sunspear; we must meet him," Lyonel said pragmatically.
Orwyle, expressing his opinion for the first time, hesitated, "But, given the tensions between the kingdom and Dorne, I'm afraid..."
The Dornish envoys would be torn to pieces by the nobles and common people the moment they appeared. Everyone fell silent, all knowing this. This wasn't the future, when marriages were possible and visits could be exchanged. Even during the reign of the Centenarian King, several great wars had broken out between the two sides. These battles were fierce. The hatred between the two nations had escalated to an irreconcilable level through each war. Even the trade between the Stepstones couldn't dispel the prejudices.
The ministers remained silent, awaiting the king's instructions.
Viserys glanced around and made a decision: "Let them come. If they dare, how can I, who sit on the Iron Throne, not dare?"
When establishing diplomatic relations between two nations, there should be no sign of weakness.
"Good!" The council agreed unanimously. Even if the Dornish envoys had ill intentions and were here to gather intelligence, they would not panic or be afraid. Unity is the true face of a great power.
The meeting ended.
Viserys retreated to his chambers to sulk. His nephew was too disobedient. Of all the Targaryen monarchs, there were no examples of them repeatedly destroying the nobility. "Maegor the Cruel" had gone to great lengths to eliminate only one.
The more he thought about it, the angrier he got, so he drank some wine.
"Hiss~~" The cut on Viserys's back stung slightly, and he took a breath of cool air. The excessive alcohol intake had irritated the wound. He called the maid to get some water and lay down in the tub to soak. The hot mist rose, covering his tired face, and his body felt a sense of comfort. The boiling water soaked his skin, temporarily suppressing the pain.
The only flaw was that the maids were not gentle enough, and it hurt when they touched the cut. Viserys closed his eyes and did not blame them too much. With all the cuts on his body, anyone who wiped them would make mistakes.
"Let me do it," At this time, Alicent came in quietly and asked the busy maids to leave. The maids were as if they had been pardoned.
The sound of splashing water came to his ears, and Viserys opened his eyes in surprise. Alicent took a handkerchief and gently wiped him.
Viserys was touched, grateful to have such a good wife: "You're much gentler than they are."
"Thank you," Alicent smiled perfunctorily. They were an old married couple. If it weren't for the trouble Aemon and the children had gotten into, which had angered her husband, she wouldn't have come here to bother with the trouble.
Viserys was no fool; he knew his wife's intentions.
"That rascal Aemon is becoming more and more like Daemon. A true lawlessness inherited from the same lineage." But the king was human, and he needed someone to confide in.
Alicent continued to move, smiling helplessly: "Daemon won't listen to you."
"Haha, it's all just a dog's temper," Viserys laughed angrily. He didn't know Daemon's recent movements, but he heard he was doing business in Qohor. He hoped he was.
"They should be back soon," Alicent whispered.
"Yes, I'm going to give Aemond a castle, the same one that belonged to House Peake, Dunstonbury." Viserys's mood brightened, and he offered some flattering words.
Alicent was surprised: "The former fortress of House Manderly?" She had heard of it, but had never had the pleasure of visiting it. Rumor has it that it's known as "Little Highgarden," one of the finest castles in the Reach. However, the Peakes are known for their unremarkable character, and her father never let her visit until she married.
"That's it," Viserys said with a smug smile. "In a blink of an eye, our children are all lords."
Alicent was truly smiling this time. She was certain Aemon was behind it. Her biggest worry was her own safety and the children's after Rhaenyra ascended the throne. Fortunately for her, she was Queen. Aemon wouldn't let her suffer. But the children's future was a major concern.
This was good. Aegon had a betrothal, and Aemond had benefited. Great!
The thought of this made Alicent's heart swell, and she scrubbed even harder.
"Gentle, gentler, Alicent," Viserys said, straining to hold her breath, gnashing his teeth in pain.
"Oh, sorry," Alicent chuckled, quickly stopping.
Viserys was rather helpless, but more than that, tolerant. Life is not easy for a middle-aged couple.
He paused, then said, "I know he had me in mind, but his methods were too brutal." Throughout the history of the Seven Kingdoms, there's no such thing as annihilating a clan. Most of the time, nobles would spare the branches of a rival family, leaving them a glimmer of hope. If everyone was like him, how could there be so many ancient noble families with thousands of years of heritage?
Alicent pursed her lips, unable to bear hearing Aemon's bad words. "Aemon acted decisively, but only for the sake of the crown. Otherwise, how could you and I have a peaceful life?"
Aemon was like a younger brother to her, protecting her and the family. Father Otto had said that a family can make choices, but it can't be without a sharp sword; otherwise, it will be torn apart by wolves.
Those words, in Viserys's ears, took on a different meaning. A person can die, but they can't be completely useless.
"Just side with him," Viserys said unhappily, picking up the wine glass.
"No drinking," Alicent snatched it away.
Viserys was stunned.
"Grand Maester Orwyle said that drinking too much can make you unwell." Alicent raised her chin and strode away. The door closed.
Viserys looked at her half-cleaned body and exclaimed in surprise, "I'm the King!" As expected, his nephew couldn't be trusted. Alicent was completely bewildered.
When Aegon and the others returned, he would make sure to train Aegon hard. Only if his son lived up to his promise would he not have to endure this humiliation.
"Seven Hells!" He wiped himself with a handkerchief, wincing at the pain from the cut. What a miserable life!
A few days later.
Aemon returned, bringing Aegon and his three siblings with him on their dragons. King's Landing erupted in excitement, the people looking up to see the four dragons dancing. Though angry, Viserys sent for them.
At the Red Keep, Rhaenys leaned against the windowsill, looking down at the bustling courtyard from Maegor's Holdfast.
"My cousin loves to celebrate," she chuckled, swirling her goblet and taking a sip of her homemade drink.
"Viserys is a man of grandiosity. You've known this for a long time," Corlys approached from behind, his words quite frivolous.
Rhaenys turned and said calmly, "But he's your king, isn't he?"
Corlys choked, knowing exactly what his wife would say.
"I've heard court rumors that you've argued with the king in the Small Council," Rhaenys tilted her head, as if to ask.
Corlys shrugged and smiled, "Do you think I'm one of those sycophants who should go along with him?" The king himself had said that his Small Council encouraged ministers to speak out.
"Corlys, you understand me," Rhaenys said, setting down her goblet. "I'm asking you to give up your unrealistic fantasies and stop opposing him."
"I swear, I won't!" Corlys said, his tone more serious. Even at this point, he wasn't naive enough to think his wife could still sit on the Iron Throne. Honestly, instead of supporting his wife, he should support his granddaughter. Baela might have a better chance of success if she competed with her half-brother, Jaehaerys.
"Really?"
"Of course."
"I do, Corlys," Rhaenys smiled.
Seeing this, Corlys said, "You know I dislike those who boast." A sailor without true skill can get shipwrecked at sea. Viserys was that sailor without true skill.
Rhaenys guessed what he was going to say next.
"We are about to face a storm. If he won't listen to good advice, a wise sailor will make plans." Corlys's eyes gleamed with wisdom. He was not the Viserys of the palace. In the Stepstones, at sea, intelligence was everywhere. Sunspear and Volantis were in contact, secretly trading iron. Prince Qoren sent his youngest son, Quentyn Martell, to Braavos to be adopted by the Sea King of Braavos.
All signs indicated that the Dornish were harboring evil intentions.
Meanwhile, Aemon quelled the rebellion in the Reach, established new rules, and preserved the royal bloodline. Corlys, with his discerning eye, immediately realized that Aemon was planning a move against Dorne.
But Viserys clearly didn't have such a keen intuition. Judging from the recent discussions at the Imperial Court, it seems he truly wants to achieve a lasting peace through marriage. Corlys disagrees.
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