Potential Enemies

Red Keep, banquet hall.

Tyland was rebuked by the King and slunk away.

The banquet continued.

"Lord Lyonel, it has been a long time since we last spoke."

Forcing a smile, Viserys beckoned over the even-tempered Master of Laws.

Across a dining table laden with pastries, Lyonel Strong had been chatting with someone. Hearing the call, he turned around in confusion.

"Your Majesty."

Lyonel did not dare delay and stepped forward to bow.

He was a well-read sage who had visited the Citadel in Oldtown in his youth, earning six maester's Chain Links.

Now advanced in years, his once-powerful body had grown stout, while his round face retained a gentle air.

Viserys looked the important minister over. After hesitating several times, he said, "Rhaenyra has disappeared. Cole said she took Aemon to the Dragonpit."

"Prince Aemon is of noble blood. It is a good thing that he wishes to grow close to the princess."

Lyonel spoke solemnly, clearly pleased by the prospect.

Yet judging by the King's troubled expression, there was surely something more important he wished to discuss.

Sure enough, Viserys shook his head with a sigh. "I like Aemon very much, but Rhaenyra holds a deep grudge against me and refuses to listen to my nagging."

It pained him greatly.

"What help can I offer you?"

Lyonel raised his brow slightly.

The conflict between the King and the princess ran deep; the entire Court knew it.

But there was little a subject could interfere with in the King's family affairs.

After all, not everyone was as adept at maneuvering as Hand Otto, who had married his daughter into the royal family as queen.

"I merely have some thoughts and hope a trustworthy person can answer them."

Viserys wore a complicated expression. After checking that no one nearby was eavesdropping, he solemnly said, "Rhaenyra will soon come of age. Who do you think can support her?"

Lyonel was instantly dumbfounded, unable to speak.

There was far too much information in those words, too many factors involved.

First, the King had mentioned Prince Aemon, then he spoke of worrying over the princess's marriage.

And his use of the word "support" was especially telling. It proved that, deep down, the King had no intention of replacing the princess as heir to the Iron Throne.

That meant the Court rumors of Prince Little Aegon "taking over" the position of heir were nothing but baseless speculation.

In an instant, countless thoughts flashed through Lyonel's mind.

Beyond those deductions, one point was especially important.

Hand Otto, Prince Little Aegon's maternal grandfather, had already been removed from the King's list of trusted men.

The King is testing me!

Lyonel's heart sank. Seeing the King grow impatient, he hurriedly said, "Your Majesty, according to the conclusion reached by the Small Council, Ser Laenor is undoubtedly the best choice."

It was a measured answer, leaving room for the conversation to continue.

Viserys frowned, dissatisfied. "Perhaps there is someone better."

Erring on the side of caution, Lyonel said, "Ser Laenor Velaryon is the heir of the wealthiest family on the continent. He is unquestionably descended from an Old Valyrian noble house and carries Targaryen blood."

There could be no finer qualifications. What was wrong with him?

But those words seemed to sting the King.

Viserys took a deep gulp of wine, his gaze sharpening as he said gravely:

"Since the Great Council of 101, when the maester spoke my name as heir, and then when I refused to take Lady Laena Velaryon as my wife, I have always felt covetous eyes fixed on me from Blackwater Bay."

Ever since his father's death, Sea Snake Corlys had been the opponent he feared most.

Lyonel had expected as much. He fell silent before saying, "Your Majesty, if you truly wish to hear my heartfelt words..."

"Of course!"

Viserys cut him off directly.

If he did not wish to hear the truth, there would have been no need to seek out the Master of Laws from a family of unquestioned loyalty.

House Strong had been granted Harrenhal. Its position allowed it to watch over the Riverlands and the Vale, while also providing immediate support should trouble arise in King's Landing.

This alone showed that House Strong was certainly loyal.

Lyonel let out a heavy sigh and said seriously, "The reason the Small Council recommended Ser Laenor was precisely because you refused his sister, Lady Laena, causing your Master of Ships, Corlys, to resign his post."

"It is always better to have Sea Snake Corlys as an ally than as an enemy."

He had spoken plainly enough, and he trusted the King understood.

The royal family and the Velaryon Family were locked in a standoff. Settling their misunderstanding through marriage was still better than allowing matters to worsen.

Viserys asked unwillingly, "What if I refuse this proposal?"

"Sea Snake Corlys will not yield of his own accord."

Lyonel stated the facts. "Unless he is tied to the Iron Throne, he will not be easily satisfied."

"When the realm has need, who can refuse?"

Viserys's emotions surged as he snapped, "Is that a threat?"

"You are the King. Of course no one would dare."

Lyonel tried to soothe him.

Viserys laughed in fury and rejected the idea. "I will not marry my daughter beneath her station, much less cast aside the dignity of a king."

Sea Snake Corlys would not yield, so was he supposed to yield instead?

Absolutely not!

Understanding the pros and cons, Lyonel said helplessly, "Prince Aemon is of noble birth, but the war in the Stepstones is urgent, and Sea Snake Corlys controls half the realm's fleet."

Unfortunately, the man had the strength to back his demands.

Viserys gripped his wine cup, calming somewhat. "It does not matter. Sea Snake Corlys has suffered heavy losses in this war, and his threat has already diminished."

His younger brother Daemon was also on the battlefield.

There was no need to speak of war's brutality; they had even sent a letter begging for aid.

"Then..."

Seeing that the King had already made up his mind, Lyonel opened his mouth to offer a suggestion.

Suddenly, a wave of screams erupted outside the hall.

"What is happening?"

Viserys straightened, utterly confused by the sudden commotion.

"Screech!!"

A dragon's shriek, brimming with exhilaration, rang out like thunder throughout the entire Red Keep.

Viserys was startled and hurried out of the hall.

Looking up, he saw white clouds drifting through the azure sky.

"Screech!"

A pale blue dragon soared high overhead, spreading its wings as it darted through the clouds like a carefree butterfly.

"Seven Hells!"

Lyonel stared in stunned amazement and cried out.

Viserys was even more shocked. He took several steps forward and peered at the dragon's back, repeatedly confirming that there was no one there.

His daughter and nephew had gone to the Dragonpit together.

Dreamfyre had not been tamed, so how had she flown out?

Unfortunately, no one could answer that for the moment.

"Screech!"

Before countless watchful eyes, the pale blue dragon circled King's Landing three full times, drawing innumerable cries of surprise and screams.

Then, seeming to grow tired, her enormous body swept over Silk Street's red brick and white walls. Folding her wings, she descended back into the domed Dragonpit.

Dragonpit.

Aemon looked up, his fair little face unable to stop smiling as he rejoiced for Dreamfyre's return to the skies.

Dragons belonged in the sky. How could they be kept imprisoned forever?

If confined too long, all of a dragon's bodily functions would deteriorate, and it might even cease laying and hatching eggs.

Only the Targaryens would suffer for it.

"Screech!"

Suddenly, another unfamiliar roar came from beside him.

Aemon gave a surprised sound and turned to look.

Rhaenyra had vanished at some point. She was now emerging gracefully from inside the Dragonpit.

"Screech!"

A mighty amber-colored dragon shook its massive head, crowned with a pair of curved horns, and unhurriedly remained at its mistress's side.

Aemon's eyes lit up as he asked eagerly, "Rhaenyra, can I touch it?"

Without waiting for an answer, he pumped his little legs and toddled over.