The next day, the sun rose as usual.
Someone discovered Pycelle's body. It was determined that the old man had slipped, fallen down the staircase, and died.
There was nothing unusual about it.
How many great nobles of the Seven Kingdoms had died in old age after falling down stairs?
"Damn it, that old bastard Pycelle just died like that."
Aerys wore a sleeping robe, angered by the Grand Maester's unexpected death.
That old thing was gone. Who would prepare his calming medicine now?
Who knew when the Citadel's Conclave would choose the next Grand Maester?
Daeren changed the subject. "Father, what are your plans for my position?"
He could not ask about his post directly. He had to ask about the future prospects of his position.
Aerys clearly did not care whether Pycelle lived or died. He was only annoyed that no one was there to serve him, and he forgot about it the moment he turned away.
"You will serve as Deputy Commander of the City Watch and assist Lord Manwoody in maintaining public order."
"That's all. Stop bothering me."
Daeren was dismissed from the royal bedchamber.
"Deputy Commander of the City Watch. A good start."
As Daeren spoke, he rubbed his temples.
He had never been much of a drinker.
Neither in this life nor his previous one had he understood alcohol.
After killing someone for the first time last night, he had drunk half a cup of Summerwine to celebrate. His head still hurt this morning.
"You shouldn't drink strong wine too quickly, Prince."
Someone beside him offered a reminder.
Daeren saw that it was Ser Gerold, the White Bull, and smiled as he denied it. "No, I only had a couple of small drinks."
Ser Gerold said seriously, "Summerwine from Dorne is Ser Arthur Dayne's favorite. Anyone who has tasted it once will never forget that flavor."
"All right, Ser."
Daeren smiled bitterly. "I'm about to take office. I was a little too nervous to sleep."
"There's nothing embarrassing about it. Men must learn to drink, just as they must learn to ride and wield a sword."
Ser Gerold was sincere by nature and offered him kind advice.
Taking advantage of the rare opportunity, Daeren chatted with him a little longer.
He had not noticed it before and had only thought the man rigid and old-fashioned.
After speaking with him, Daeren discovered that Ser Gerold was a rough man with a surprisingly thoughtful side, often able to offer the most practical answers from another person's perspective.
That reminded him of a piece of history.
It too came from The Dance of the Dragons Chronicle.
During the Dance of the Dragons, war broke out between the Blacks and the Greens. One of those battles, the Battle of the Honeywine, shook the continent.
The story took place after the Battle of the Honeywine.
King's Landing fell, and the Greens sent Kingsguard Ser Rickard Thorne to escort Aegon II's youngest son, Prince Maelar, to Oldtown for refuge.
But when they passed through Bitterbridge, they were attacked by a mob. Ser Thorne was killed, and the prince himself was torn to pieces as the mob fought over him.
Afterward, when Count Mond Hightower, then ruler of Highgarden, marched north with his army through Bitterbridge, he flew into a rage and allowed his soldiers to sack the town.
And Prince Maelar's uncle, the first Daeren Targaryen of the family—
Prince Daeren, known as Daeron the Daring, rode his dragon Tessarion to burn the town and seize the Caswell family's castle at Bitterbridge, avenging his nephew.
The heart of the story was the pitiful Prince Maelar.
As the King's son, he naturally possessed a Dragon Egg.
The Dragon Egg remained intact amid the mob's struggle and ended up in Lady Caswell's hands.
Before the castle fell, Lady Caswell gave the Dragon Egg back to Count Mond in order to protect her children, then jumped from the battlements and hanged herself.
The last record of that Dragon Egg was that Count Mond brought it back to Highgarden in Oldtown.
Daeren asked directly, "Ser, does the Hightower Family possess a Dragon Egg?"
"Uh..."
Ser Gerold froze at once, unsure how to answer.
Daeren saw the clue in his expression and asked in surprise, "There really is one?"
That had all happened a hundred and fifty years ago.
"I'm sorry, Prince. I cannot reveal my family's secrets."
Ser Gerold shook his head and sighed.
But those words alone left plenty of room for speculation.
"I'll be going now, Ser."
Daeren took his leave.
The faster he walked, the more delighted he became.
He already had a red Dragon Egg, but there had been no sign of it hatching these past few days.
There was no particular reason.
Still, the more Dragon Eggs, the better.
If he could not use them, he could give them to Shayani and Little Jay.
At worst, raising multiple dragons like Daenerys would still be an incredibly impressive feat.
"Ser Gerold is of high seniority. He is the biological uncle of Count Leyton Hightower, the current ruler of Highgarden."
Ser Gerold definitely knew whether Highgarden had a Dragon Egg.
The only question was how close Ser Gerold and Count Leyton were as uncle and nephew.
He had heard that Count Leyton was obsessed with mysticism. He spent lavishly in Oldtown on Special Crops and animals, and had even hired quite a few alchemists.
"No matter what, I must get that Dragon Egg back."
Daeren silently made up his mind.
While incubating the Dragon Egg he already possessed, he would search for the next one.
Morning, 10:30.
After visiting his Sister Shayani and giving her that Silver Star-quality Yellow Daffodil, Daeren rode back to his territory.
After all, he had killed someone. His mental fortitude was not up to par.
Rather than remain in King's Landing and pretend nothing had happened, he might as well return to his own land and calm down.
For example, by fishing.
Biu!
On the shore of the mine lake, Daeren cast his Fishing Rod and sat down to wait patiently.
There were three days left until Spring 13. He was still short 210 gold to buy Strawberry Seeds.
Compared to gathering, which depended on luck, fishing was clearly a more stable source of income.
Sea fish and river fish were harder to catch. Lake fish were more willing to bite.
"This reminds me of the days when I fished for largemouth bass and bighead carp to grind levels."
Daeren's competitive spirit flared.
Gurgle!
A sudden sound came from the still surface of the lake.
"A fish is biting!" Daeren perked up.
While Daeren fished to earn money, King's Landing erupted into an uproar.
The Grand Maester had died unexpectedly, leaving a vacancy on the Small Council.
But that did not attract much attention.
The fact that eleven-year-old Daeren would soon become Deputy Commander of the City Watch and assist Lord Manwoody in governing King's Landing's public order became the biggest ripple after the Trial by Combat.
Many suspected that the King had truly gone mad.
Others rubbed their hands together, hoping to seize the chance to become dragon supporters.
Prince Rhaegar was indeed wise, but he was far away on Dragonstone.
Prince Daeren might be young, but his martial skills were just as formidable. He was also more favored by the King and was about to take over the vital duty of defending King's Landing.
Any perceptive noble among the Seven Kingdoms could see it.
The beginnings of an internal conflict between two factions, much like the Dance of the Dragons, had already emerged.
It only remained to see who would bet on Prince Rhaegar and who would dare go all in on Prince Daeren.
Riverlands, Riverrun.
At lunchtime, Lord Hoster dined with his family.
A long dining table was surrounded by the family.
Lord Hoster was old. He sat alone at one end of the table, able to see his family's faces on both sides.
Just as the Tully Family words said: "Family, Duty, Honor."
Family would always come first.
There were three people on each side of the table.
On the left sat a beautiful young woman with fiery red curls, dignified and poised.
A slender black-haired man with shrewd eyes and a young red-brown-haired boy sat on either side of her.
On the right, a lean middle-aged man with gray hair, thick brows, and blue eyes sat in the center.
The middle-aged man looked difficult to get along with, carrying a dangerous air of dark humor.
Brynden Tully, the Blackfish, famed throughout the Seven Kingdoms.
A handsome blond youth sat to Brynden's right, pestering him for details about the War of the Ninepenny Kings.
Farther to the right sat another beautiful, red-haired, busty girl.
It seemed possible to arrange for the busty girl and the handsome youth to sit beside each other. Their arms were nearly touching.
Yet neither was interested in the other.
One secretly glanced at the black-haired man across the table, while the other clung to his idol, Brynden the Blackfish.
Before you continue