King of the Stepstones

From afar, Rhaegar gazed into the arena and saw the dragonrider's face.

The standard silver-gold hair of the Targaryen family, violet eyes.

Upon closer inspection, the man's face was stern, his nose high, his brows and eyes rebellious, no different from the dragon he sat upon.

Having heard the rumors from the crowd long ago, Rhaegar knew who it was.

His royal uncle, Daemon Targaryen.

A knight-errant Prince who dared to ride a dragon across the continent in his teens, leading followers to fight bandits.

It was said his exploits were widely circulated, with some even writing books about him.

"Look! It's a dragon, a living dragon, it's so big!"

With the heart of a child, Rhaegar cared not who his uncle was, his eyes filled only with the terrifying beast of scarlet scales.

Grabbing Illyric's large hand, Rhaegar was extremely excited: "I will ride a dragon just as mighty in the future."

"No! It needs to be more mighty and majestic, this dragon is too slender!"

The young boy unreservedly revealed his true feelings.

Illyric had no time to look at the dragon; he gripped his sword hilt, vigilantly scanning their surroundings, lest anyone charge towards the Prince in a panic.

Inside the dueling arena, the Dornish youth was cornered by Caraxes, pressed against the wall in fear, drenched in sweat.

Fear of the dragon filled his heart, and just as the Dornish youth's mental defenses were about to crumble.

A steady voice came, like heavenly music to his ears.

"Caraxes, behave yourself."

"Hiss!"

Caraxes roared, as if responding to its master.

Then it slowly raised its head, ignoring the cornered Dornish youth, and obediently lowered itself to the ground.

The danger gone, the Dornish youth's legs went weak, and he collapsed to the ground with a thud, cold sweat dripping down his cheeks like rain.

Daemon flipped off the dragon's back and strode towards the viewing stands, treating the person in the corner as if they were not there.

No one dared to block his path as Daemon walked step by step to Viserys's main seat.

"Halt, no one may offend the King's majesty."

Ser Harrold, Captain of the Kingsguard, drew his sword, the tip pointed at Daemon's chest.

Daemon glanced at him, ignoring him, his expression indifferent.

Viserys remained motionless, his eyes deep as the sea, observing his former brother.

Daemon also watched him, neither speaking, the atmosphere becoming tense.

The nearby lords and ministers looked nervous, unsure how the two brothers would meet.

After a moment of silence, Daemon consciously took a step back, dispelling Harrold's guard.

Then, he took a double-headed axe from his waist and threw it before Viserys, raising his head: "Add it to the Iron Throne!"

Viserys remained unmoved, looking at the top of Daemon's head, and said in a deep voice, "You wear a crown, have you also proclaimed yourself King?"

"Once the Three Daughters were conquered, people called me King of the Narrow Sea."

Daemon recounted his achievements, pausing before saying, "But I know, Your Majesty! There is only one King under heaven."

With that, Daemon knelt on one knee, removed the vine crown from his head, and lowered his noble head: "My crown and the Stepstones are yours."

These words and actions greatly exceeded everyone's expectations.

Who would have thought that the usually arrogant Prince Daemon would willingly submit, giving his brother, the King, ample respect and dignity.

Looking down at his now sensible brother, Viserys did not rush and asked, "Lord Corlys?"

"He has set sail back to his ancestral home on Driftmark."

Daemon answered truthfully.

Viserys continued to ask, "Who is guarding the Stepstones now?"

"The Tides, the Crabs, and two thousand Three Daughters pirates who died and were nailed to the beach as a warning!"

Daemon's voice was low as he responded to his brother's inquiry.

He knew this answer was very important to his brother.

Receiving a less-than-ideal answer, Viserys pondered for a moment, then seemed to accept it and nodded.

Viserys rose and stepped forward, first accepting the vine crown that Daemon had presented as a harvest.

He glanced at it casually before handing it to Captain Harrold.

It was evident that he held the crown, symbolizing the King of the Narrow Sea, in low regard.

Noticing the expressions of the surrounding lords and ministers, Viserys's eyes flickered, and he said faintly, "Rise!"

Daemon looked expectantly at his brother, and upon hearing the signal of forgiveness, slowly stood up, his posture straightening.

Viserys's indifferent expression melted away like ice, replaced by a smile. "Welcome home, brother!"

Without hesitation, Daemon and Viserys embraced.

Under the watchful eyes of the crowd, the bloodline of Prince Baelor of Spring, was reconciled once more.

Those with discerning minds understood this was the King issuing a warning.

He welcomed his brother Daemon's return, but that did not mean certain people could make a fuss about it.

Daemon understood this as well.

Therefore, his attitude was extremely respectful from beginning to end, no longer the carefree demeanor of the past.

Rhaenyra stood before the assembled crowd, observing this complex power play up close, her eyes revealing unconcealed joy.

Her clear and foolish purple eyes could not yet distinguish truth from falsehood.

She was simply genuinely happy her uncle had returned.

"Sister~"

Rhaegar had, at some point, squeezed through the crowd and appeared beside Rhaenyra, taking her small hand.

Hearing his call, Rhaenyra noticed Rhaegar's presence and smiled faintly. "Uncle Daemon is back. He was always very good to me when I was little."

"Yes, he looks very handsome."

Facing his sister's delight, Rhaegar forced a smile, complying with the praise of Daemon's handsome face.

He truly didn't know on which excellent quality he could relate to this uncle he had never met.

Although he rarely heard news from the outside, he knew the title "One-Day Crown Prince" came from this uncle's mouth.

He was hoping Rhaegar would die young so he could obtain the inheritance of the Iron Throne from Viserys.

How could Rhaegar possibly like him?

With Daemon's dragon appearing, and then the brothers reconciling.

The day's tournament ended hastily, and the assembled officials moved to the banquet area to welcome Daemon.

As for a certain Dornish young man whose pants were soaked, he was "gently persuaded" by Hand Lyonel to check into a high-end inn in the city.

Not only was his accommodation paid for, but he was also assigned a special attendant, as if they were afraid he wouldn't be comfortable.

It was quite a display, and many curious people inquired.

The answers they received were all the same.

The King appreciated this Dornish warrior who had traveled from afar, but today he was receiving the returning King's brother, Daemon.

The tournament would proceed as planned tomorrow, and he was invited to continue participating in the duels.

No refusal allowed!

The banquet was ready, and Viserys walked side-by-side with Daemon.

Behind them followed a host of ministers and invited nobles and lords.

It had to be said, Alicent was an understanding Queen.

Upon receiving the news of Daemon's return, she immediately ordered her servants to clear away the previously served dishes and replace them with those already prepared in the kitchens.

When Viserys led everyone to the banquet area, everything was meticulously arranged, showing no sign of being a last-minute affair.

Viserys was deeply moved and publicly praised Alicent as his capable helper, who always shared his heavy burdens.

Alicent, unfazed by praise or blame, linked her arm with Viserys's, and said gently, "You are already working hard all day with state affairs, you shouldn't be troubled by trivial matters."

Viserys clasped the Queen's slender, white jade hand, his eyes full of relief. "Thanks to you, my life is not so lonely."

"Alright, if you get any more affectionate, the ministers will laugh. Hurry and lead everyone to the feast."

Alicent's cheeks flushed, her shy demeanor a feast for the eyes.

The Stepstones were a troublesome land, fraught with power struggles.