Winterfell

Driftmark.

Spice Town, the harbor.

Corlys wore a gloomy expression as he paced the moored fleet again and again.

After a major battle, every ship had suffered some damage.

At times like this, the shipwrights had to toil tirelessly to make repairs.

"Corlys, there you are."

Rhaenys approached with a spring in her step, a helpless smile on her face.

"I should have been at your nephew's Small Council meeting."

Corlys spoke flatly, his words thick with sarcasm.

Being passed over in favor of Daemon, whom he had always disliked, felt humiliating.

"You're acting like a child. That scowl doesn't suit you."

Rhaenys had heard the rumors and had come to see her disgruntled husband.

"I'm not scowling."

Corlys turned his head away, his brow furrowing despite himself.

It turned out anger couldn't be concealed.

Rhaenys shook her head with a laugh. "Does losing to Daemon make you feel disgraced?"

"I lost to a Targaryen man."

Corlys bristled at the mere mention of it. "They're all a bunch of ungrateful bastards who turn on you once they've crossed the river. There's no trust in them at all."

Daemon and Rhaegar alike—even Viserys, now retired and living out his days.

They were all wary of him.

"That's because you came on too strong."

Rhaenyra folded her arms and leaned against the hoist used to move cargo. Calmly, she said, "You need to rein in your temper."

No one liked having an arrogant, self-important man at their side.

"You think I have a bad temper?"

Corlys immediately turned back, his eyes full of surprise.

He didn't like hearing his wife say that.

"I mean, you should turn your attention to other things."

Rhaenys deftly changed the subject and smiled. "You're getting on in years, too. You should give the children's futures some