Lymond Lychester felt his throat go dry.
He wanted to say something, but found his tongue stiff.
The words, "Raise a mighty strategy to rule the Seven Kingdoms, unite the six realms and bring down the kings," echoed over and over in his mind, every word thundering through his head.
Though he didn't fully understand what they meant, he could still hear how fierce and offensive they were.
This wasn't ambition.
It was a madman's ravings, words wild enough to doom the entire House Lychester alongside him.
And now, he was already bound too tightly to Suleiman, far too tightly. There was no turning back...
"My lord."
Suleiman's calm voice broke the silence in the tent.
"You're afraid."
Lymond Lychester jerked his head up, his cloudy eyes filled with shock.
He saw a young face, calm as a deep pool. There was no madness in those eyes, only a reason so cold it made him shudder.
"You..."
The old man's voice was hoarse and harsh.
"Do you know what you're saying?"
Suleiman raised the Valyrian Steel Sword Nightfall before him, the blade reflecting his face. "Of course I do."
"When House Targaryen came, Westeros had seven kings."
"They used dragons to turn Westeros into one king and eight great lords."
Suleiman turned to look at Lymond Lychester.
"So what?"
"The Dragon Kings merely took their crowns away."
"Every house has its own king at home, even if they're subjects elsewhere. Without dragons, House Targaryen's rule would be nothing but a fleeting illusion."
Lymond Lychester fell silent. There was no arguing with those words. Without dragons, the king's power was weaker than that of any of the Seven Kingdoms. He could only rely on the delicate art of balancing power, like walking across thin ice. One false move, and he would