A month passed in the blink of an eye.
In early September, two good news stories caused a small stir in King's Landing.
First, the heir to the Iron Throne, the "Realm's Delight," Rhaenyra, was pregnant.
Second, a dragon egg hatched in the Dragonpit.
The Red Keep.
"Are you sure she's okay?"
"Please trust my medical skills, Prince."
"Really?"
"..."
Grand Maester Orwyle's face was full of helplessness as he answered Aemon's repeated questions.
Aemon's eyes darted around. "The fetus is stable, right?"
"Yes, Prince," Orwyle sighed, not remembering how many times he had answered that question.
"Let the poor Grand Maester go. He still has to prepare medicine for my father." Rhaenyra, sitting on a reclining chair, couldn't stand it anymore and rescued the trapped Orwyle.
Orwyle was so grateful he could cry.
Bang!
When the door closed, only the two of them were left in the bedchamber.
Aemon leaned in, his eyes fixed on Rhaenyra's flat stomach, and placed his hand on it. "Are you really pregnant?" he asked in disbelief.
Alys Rivers was indeed an alarmist. With Rhaenyra's fertility, how could she only have one child?
"Aemon, I think this pregnancy is thanks to Laenor," Rhaenyra said, touching her stomach and looking up seriously.
The night Laenor left, she had a dream. In the dream, she was lying on a soft bed made of seawater, and next to her lay a deformed stillborn fetus. But when she touched it, the fetus turned into a young dragon and burrowed into her stomach. It was a gentle feeling, like a peeled egg falling into bath bubbles.
She told Aemon about this dream.
Aemon bowed his head in thought, a possibility coming to mind. He and Rhaenyra might indeed only have one child, but they had conceived on Laenor's bed. The child that should have been born stillborn had found a healthy mother for himself.
It sounded a little absurd.
Aemon couldn't help but laugh. He squatted down and said, "I bet it's a boy."
"I wanted a girl." Rhaenyra pouted, then laughed. "But I guess so. In the dream, I saw a little boy."
Aemon chuckled. The child's privacy was gone before it was even born.
After talking for a while, Rhaenyra became sleepy. Aemon pushed the door open, then gently closed it again.
"Prince, I was just looking for you."
As soon as he reached the bottom of the stairs, the new Master of Laws, Thaddeus, ran over, his large belly shaking.
"What is it, my lord?" Aemon quickly took a step back to avoid a collision.
Thaddeus was dressed splendidly, with documents tucked under his arm. He made a solemn and formal request: "According to Lord Tyland, the Dornish envoys' ship is about to enter the Gullet. I have ordered the five thousand gold cloaks of the City Watch to patrol the city day and night, but the improvement in order is minimal. I am worried that there will be a riot."
The number of gold cloaks was now more than double what it used to be. But five thousand men against King's Landing's fifty million permanent residents was nothing more than a drop in the ocean.
Aemon heard this, patted his shoulder, and turned him around to face the stairs. "The king's bedchamber is up there, Lord Thaddeus. This is not my concern."
"But... but you are the Prince Regent." Thaddeus did not expect him to refuse.
Aemon shook his head and interrupted him, "My uncle loves holding these meetings. You will find what you are looking for if you go to him." Besides, what kind of trouble could a boatload of Dornishmen cause? At worst, they would be torn to pieces by the people of King's Landing.
"Alright then." Thaddeus looked a little disappointed. Before leaving, he said quietly, "Lord Tyland has verified the treasury. He and Lord Linman asked me to thank you on their behalf."
Aemon accepted the thanks with a smile. He said seriously, "The kingdom needs people like you who get things done. The kingdom will not forget."
"Yes, Prince!" Thaddeus looked as if he had been given a boost of energy and excitedly ran up the stairs.
Aemon's eyes flashed with a smile. The Small Council had undergone a major change because of him. Compared to before, their efficiency was much higher. Grand Maester Orwyle, for example, was a young man full of energy and drive. He meticulously recorded everything and was a great alchemist. The king's back was covered in cuts, but after applying the ointment Orwyle made, the swelling and inflammation never returned, and the cuts were beginning to scar. His body no longer hurt, and he slept soundly. Viserys was becoming more and more energetic and even more eager to hold Small Council meetings.
"Hehe, let the Dornish come." Aemon was wary, but he wasn't opposed to diplomatic relations. If Aegon the Conqueror had had more contact with the Dornish and had a better understanding of their customs and ways of doing things, he wouldn't have lost a queen and still not conquered Dorne. Know yourself, know your enemy, and you will not be defeated.
Clack, clack, clack...
Aemon was about to leave when he heard a steady set of footsteps from behind. He looked up and saw the Sea Snake, Corlys, with his hands behind his back, slowly walking down the stairs. He saw Aemon, and Aemon saw him. Corlys's expression was indifferent. He was about to speak.
Aemon spoke first. "As you get older, remember to hold the handrail when you go down the stairs."
"You think I'm old and useless?" Corlys frowned.
"No, just concerned," Aemon said, waving his hand to show that he was a kind person. In the original timeline, the Sea Snake had fallen down the stairs and died because of his age. Aemon was just giving him a kind warning.
Corlys's expression softened. He glanced at the handrail and used one hand to hold it as he went down the stairs. When they were side by side, he said, "Rhaenys's name day is the day after tomorrow." He had already asked the king for leave to return to Driftmark to celebrate with his wife.
Aemon: "I'm about to leave, too." There was nothing but a mess in King's Landing. It was better to celebrate Rhaenys's birthday.
"That's good," Corlys said, a small smile playing on his lips. He pretended to be serious. "You're riding a dragon, and I'm taking a ship from the Blackwater. We'll arrive at Driftmark on different days."
"No problem," Aemon said, nodding slightly.
Their relationship was closer than outsiders thought. In the past, the Sea Snake was a powerful man. He had the immense wealth of Driftmark, his family owned three dragons, and he had half of the kingdom's fleet, which scared his uncle, Viserys, and made him lose sleep at night. Aemon's appearance had broken the Velaryons' monopoly. The two families should have become enemies and fought each other. But Aemon was clever. He had won the heart of the Sea Snake's most beloved daughter and had even given him a pair of adorable granddaughters. It was as if he had said, "Old man, is it safe for my dragon to be parked outside High Tide?"
The Sea Snake had ten thousand reasons to be unwilling, but for the sake of his daughter and granddaughters, he had to endure.
Even now, the royal family had three new dragonriders—Aegon, Helaena, and Aemond—and they had overshadowed the once-invincible Velaryons. But a tiger's power remains even in death, and the Sea Snake was still alive. The Velaryons were still the Velaryons, with an influence that rivaled the royal family. In particular, the Sea Snake had occupied Tyrosh and established a worldwide maritime trade, which brought in immense wealth and allowed him to train his army. His strength was even greater than it was ten years ago. This was the fundamental reason why the Sea Snake dared to challenge Viserys in the Small Council. He wasn't afraid.
And if the Sea Snake was strong, Aemon was even stronger.
In terms of wealth, Aemon was not as rich as the Sea Snake. The coffers of River Valley Town and Myr were only half-full. He could not claim to be as rich as the Lannisters, the Hightowers of Oldtown, or the Velaryons. But in terms of hard power and territory, Aemon was far ahead of the Sea Snake.
He rode three dragons, and the Dragonpit was a sanctuary for dragon populations. He had two dragonrider wives, three dragonrider children, and a dragonrider little brother. His family's foundation was even more solid than his great-grandfather, the Centenarian King. The Vale and Myr were vast, and with the Stepstones and the Isle of Tarth, the number of people loyal to the "King on the Bronze and Fire Throne" exceeded five million. The Sea Snake, who only had Driftmark and Tyrosh, could not catch up.
As a result, the Seven Kingdoms had formed a "one-plus-two" structure: the royal family and the "Targaryens of the Vale" and the "Velaryons of Driftmark." In addition, the once-rising Hightowers had been extinguished. Daemon's fame was widespread, but his infamy was even greater. He had become a recluse in Essos.
Some people dared to predict that the future of the kingdom depended entirely on this "one-plus-two" dynamic. Aemon, as the link between the Targaryens and the Velaryons, was well aware of his role's importance. He would not favor his uncle while neglecting the Sea Snake, nor would he favor the Sea Snake while neglecting his uncle. He would keep a perfect balance.
Satisfied with Aemon's attitude, Corlys got carried away and said, "Now that Rhaenyra is pregnant again, you should focus your energy on Laenor." "I'm sure Baela and Rhaena would also like to have a brother from their mother."
"..."
Aemon gave him a look and said nothing. Old man, you talk too much.
Seeing this, Corlys backed off, put his hands behind his back, and went down the stairs. Aemon ignored him and called for Ser Steve of the Kingsguard, who happened to be passing by.
"Ser, I need you to do me a favor."
Ser Steve looked around and said seriously, "Please tell me, Prince." Their relationship was very harmonious. The Prince Regent had grown up under his watch.
Aemon leaned in and whispered a few words to him.
"Don't worry, I'll take care of it," Ser Steve said, his chest puffing out with pride.
"Thank you," Aemon said with a smile as he left. It was nothing major. But the Dornish envoys were arriving soon, so he was just making a few small preparations.
The next day.
In the morning, the weather was clear and the sea breeze was cool.
On the Isle of Tarth, a pale silver dragon was circling in the air, soaring with its wings stretched out over High Tide. From time to time, it let out a long, melodious roar. Not far from High Tide, on a desolate beach where the grass was yellowing, a massive creature as green as ink was slowly crawling. Its wings and tail stirred up gusts of sand, and from a distance, only a pair of giant, cloud-obscuring, goose-yellow wings could be seen.
"Hiss~"
A roar as loud as thunder rang out as Vermithor, the bronze dragon, soared over the Isle of Tarth.
"It's Father!"
"Father, Father..."
From behind the tall French windows of High Tide, Baela and Rhaena's faces lit up. They laughed and shouted with joy.
Aemon rode in a carriage through the tidal causeway of High Tide. As soon as he entered the large stone archway, the castle door was pushed open by Rhaenys.
"Aemon, I thought you weren't coming." Rhaenys's face was all smiles. She came forward and gave him a big hug.
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