The warmth of Arbor wine

When the blue-and-purple grape emblem of Redwyne Fleet was unfurled at the Mander River, even the Mander River seemed to take on a wine-like hue. A dozen or so large ocean-going ships stood side-by-side, their sails adorned with deep purple grapes that shimmered softly in the sunlight.

The Arbor " ship at the very front is carved with a huge oak barrel, and the vine decorations hanging from the mouth of the barrel sway gently in the sea breeze, making it look like a moving vineyard.

"That's our Lyan's Port! Father and elder brother have already disembarked and are at the port to welcome Your Highnesses." Alyn Redwyne rode at the head of the procession on his white horse, his orange hair damp with the fine salt brought by the sea breeze. He turned and looked up, pointing to the distant port town. A stone-built pier stretched out into the sea, with countless wine barrels piled up like small mountains. Fishermen were unloading their freshly caught fish onto the shore. The air was filled with the rich aroma of wine and the salty tang of sea salt, which mixed together to create a surprisingly refreshing scent.

The outline of Arbor became increasingly clear under the sunlight: the Vinetown on the southwest side of the island was covered with grapevines, and the thatched roofs of the houses were sun-dried to a golden brown; the fishing boats in Starfish Harbor were neatly lined up, and the starfish emblems on the sails echoed the grape emblems of Redwyne; small islands such as Stone Crab Reef and Hog Islands were scattered like pearls in the surrounding waters, forming a natural defensive barrier.

Daemon looked down from the sky, holding onto the Glutton's dragon saddle. He saw vineyards cascading down the island, stretching from the coast to the hills inland. Ripe grapes hung from the vines like strings of purple jewels.

"Your Highness, Princess Gael, please come in!" Earl Redwyne had already disembarked at the Lyan's Port docks to prepare to welcome Daemon's party, and thoughtfully had his second son accompany them to guide Daemon and his entourage.

Today, he was specially dressed in a blue robe embroidered with grape patterns, with a sapphire-inlaid dagger at his waist. His wife followed beside him, her pale purple dress adorned with pearls, a specialty of Arbor. Behind them, their three sons and youngest daughter were particularly eye-catching—the eldest son, William, who served as a squire in Highgarden, was dressed in silver armor; the second son, Alyn, had just dismounted and trotted up behind them; and the third son, Horas, with his orange hair and freckles, was a miniature version of the Earl. The Earl and Lady's youngest daughter Margaery, was staring at Dreamfyre and Glutton with curiosity and longing.

As soon as they stepped onto the dock, a group of servants in green robes approached with silver platters containing freshly poured glasses of golden gin, the liquid shimmering amber in the sunlight. "This is this year's new gin," the Earl said with a smile, handing over a glass. "Sweeter than Dorne, smoother than King's Landing. Your Highness, please try some, and rinse your mouth."

Daemon took the glass, and the aroma of the wine instantly filled his nostrils. He took a small sip, and the sweet taste mixed with the aroma of oak barrels spread on his tongue. This gargle wine was even more mellow than the wine served at the Highgarden banquet.

Gael also took two glasses, handing one to Mysaria first. Little Mei then took a small sip for Gael.

A few wine stains on her platinum curls made the Earl chuckle. "If you like, Miss, I'll have someone pack a jar for you to take on your journey."

The afternoons on Arbor were always warm and languid. Daemon's followers had just settled in when they spontaneously set up a dueling arena on the beach west of Lyan's Port — Rupert Crabb, clutching his prized silver spoon, was sparring with the newly joined House Oakheart knights;

Colin Celtigar, along with several Reach boys, demonstrated how to maintain balance on the slippery sand with his superb riding skills;

Rayford Rosby and Lyonel Corbray stood by, occasionally offering their comments, Harlan Jarman Waters, with his single eye, vigilantly scanned the distant sea to ensure there was nothing amiss.

"Rupert! If you keep wobbling that silver spoon, it might get blown into the sea by the wind!" Colin rode by on his white horse, the Blue Crab pattern on his silver armor gleaming in the sunlight.

Rupert had just deflected his opponent's wooden sword with a silver spoon, turned around and laughed, "This spoon is a treasure of the House Marbrand! Lose it or I'll be furious!" The newly joined knights were thrilled. A young man in brown armor suddenly shouted, "His Highness's followers are all so powerful! Can we join the competition?"

Daemon, who was talking with Redwyne Earl, smiled and nodded upon hearing this, "A martial arts contest is meant to be a friendly competition."

"I'll improve your skills! You're all my followers, come on over!" The boys cheered and rushed onto the field. Some borrowed wooden swords from Rupert, while others learned horseback riding from Colin. The shouts, laughter, and crashing waves mingled on the beach.

Like a lively ballad.

Gael and Mysaria sat under a sunshade in the distance, peeling sweet pears from Arbor —the pears were big and sweet, with flesh so tender it seemed like you could squeeze water out of them.

"Look at Myles," Gael said, pointing to Myles Rivers, who was wielding the North Battle Axe and fighting Tybolt Crakehall, swinging the axe with great force. "He almost cut himself in Oldstones last time, but now he's doing quite well."

Mysaria smiled and nodded, just tossing the princess's pear core into the bamboo basket, when Margaery Redwyne came running up, clutching a small wooden grape in her hand. "Princess sister, can I see the Dreamfyre? I heard it breathes pale blue flames, more beautiful than any flame I've ever seen!"

The Earl and Earl 'Redwyne enthusiasm far exceeded expectations. Before the banquet, the Earl had his second son, Alyn, his third son, Horas, and several children from collateral branches surround Daemon, their eyes full of anticipation. "Your Highness's martial arts are unparalleled in the Seven Kingdoms, could you perhaps give the children a few pointers?"

Daemon didn't refuse, took a wooden sword from the servant, and smiled at Alyn, saying, "First, practice your horse stance—"

The sand was soft, perfect for practicing lower body stability. Although Alyn was already sixteen and half a head taller than Daemon, he respectfully stood firm as instructed, his face flushed red beneath his orange hair.

Daemon walked behind him and gently adjusted his shoulder line. "Shoulders down, don't shrug, otherwise you'll lose power when you swing your sword."

Horas was only fourteen, and his hand holding the wooden sword was still trembling. Daemon, however, didn't mind. He knelt down and taught him how to hold the sword. "Relax your fingers. The hilt isn't meant to be crushed; you have to listen to its strength." As he spoke, he gently pushed Horas's arm, and the wooden sword accurately pierced the scarecrow in front of him, making the boy's eyes light up. "Your Highness! I want to be like you, able to send my opponent flying with a single sword strike!"

Standing under the awning, the Earl watched Daemon patiently instructing her and whispered to Gael beside her, "His Highness may be young, but he is more composed than many adult knights. The story of him defeating Lucas with a single spear thrust at the last King's Landing's Landing tournament has spread throughout the Reach; the children have long idolized him."

Gael smiled and nodded, her gaze falling on Daemon —a boy whose silver hair was being tousled by the sea breeze, his purple eyes intently watching the child's movements, and the Dragon Mark on his right shoulder, though covered by his clothes, seemed to exude the power of a true dragon.

Even the Glutton seemed to be caught up in the excitement, lying on a distant sand dune, their Black Dragon reflecting the setting sun.

Occasionally, it would exhale a small puff of dragon breath, startling the seabirds in the air and scattering them, eliciting cheers from the children.

Dreamfyre landed gracefully on the beach, its pale blue dragon wings gently pushing aside several little girls nearby, prompting Gael to quickly send Mysaria over to give Dreamfyre some fresh berries.

As the setting sun painted the vineyards of Arbor golden red, Redwyne 'Earl banquet unfolded at the main castle in Lyan's Port.

The long table was laden with Arbor specialties: crispy fried fish, roasted pork drizzled with a special sauce, pastries piled high with green grapes, and most eye-catching of all, a tall jar of sweet red wine in the center, its deep purple liquid gleaming like jewels when poured into a silver cup.

"The history of Arbor is longer than the marble of Highgarden." The Earl raised his glass, his voice filled with pride. "In the time of our First Men, the Ironborn tried to rule us. The four-sectioned grapes on the coat of arms of the House Hoare are said to be a mark left from that time—but in the end, we drove them away. Later, our ancestors, along with the House Gardener, resisted the Andals." He paused, pointing to the tapestry on the wall, "In the 54th year of the Conquest calendar, His Majesty Jaehaerys rode to us on his Vermithor, drank three jars of sweet red wine before leaving, and said that the wine of Arbor was warmer than that of Dragonstone; when Princess Rhaena was looking for her daughter, the Dreamfyre still hovered over our Vinetown. I was young then, and the fishermen said that the pale blue Dragonfire were like stars in the sky."

Daemon listened, his fingertips tracing the rim of his silver cup. He suddenly recalled the document mentioning Elisa Farman's voyage to Arbor and the falconry before Aegon's conquest—these events imbued the island with a sense of history. "Earl Lord," he suddenly spoke, "I've heard along the way that Dorne has been rather restless at sea lately?"

The Earl's smile faded slightly. He set down his wine glass, his voice deepening. "Your Highness is well-informed. The Dornish are not only constantly clashing with the lords of our Reach and Stormlands in the Dornish Marches, but recently they've been even more audacious in the Dornish Sea and the Stepstones. Our merchant ships have repeatedly spotted their vessels in contact with Ironborn longships and Triarchy pirate ships; it seems they intend to unite and seize our shipping lanes." He looked at Daemon, his eyes filled with seriousness. "You'll be heading to the Stormlands next, and the sea route will take you through the Dornish Sea. You must be careful. If you take the land route..."

It will take another ten days to travel.

Gael tightened her grip on the wine glass. "The Iron Islands dare to collude with Dorne? Aren't they afraid of being held accountable by the Iron Throne?"

"They've never been obstinate," the Earl added. "Ever since Alton Greyjoy fell seriously ill last year, they've been restless. Our fleet has been patrolling the area recently, precisely to prevent a surprise attack like the raids on Seagard and Lannisport."

Halfway through the banquet, Earl Redwyne suddenly rose and bowed deeply to Daemon: "Your Highness, I have a favor to ask." He paused, his tone earnest, "Your journey to Oldtown is long, and the Dornish Sea is unsafe. I would like to personally lead the Redwyne Fleet to escort your troops to Oldtown; after you have finished your Oldtown, if you wish to go to Stormlands..."

Our fleet can also escort ships bound for Arbor; it's faster and more reliable than any merchant ship.

Daemon paused, then stood up to help him. "Earl Excellency, there's no need for that. We can continue our journey once we reach the Oldtown— "

"If Your Highness refuses, it means you think our House Redwyne ships aren't good enough!" The Earl interrupted him, then beckoned Alyn and Horas forward. "These two lads have been clamoring to follow you ever since they heard you were forging Ironborn Seagard in the Riverlands. Alyn knows navigation, and Horas has some skill in archery; though they certainly can't compare to Ser Jarman, they can still be of help. If Your Highness doesn't mind, let them train with you—if it weren't for my eldest son William already being a squire at Highgarden, I'd want him here too!"

Alyn and Oliver immediately knelt on one knee. Alyn gripped his sword tighter. "Your Highness! I am willing to lead the fleet for you, even if it means going to the other side of the Narrow Sea!" Horas nodded in agreement, still clutching the wooden sword Daemon had taught him to use earlier that day. "I will practice archery, and one day I can be like Ser Jarman, helping you guard against and kill any invaders!"

Daemon looked at the light in the eyes of the two boys, then at the expectant gaze of the Earl, and recalled the young knights who had recently joined him at Highgarden —the passion of the Reach was always hidden beneath sweet wine and roses.

"Okay." He nodded, his voice warm. "I'll accept them. But remember, follow me."

It's not for glory, but to protect the peace of the Seven Kingdoms and to protect those around me.

The Earl and countess breathed a sigh of relief. The Earl even slapped the table excitedly, "That's wonderful! I knew His Highness would grant our request!" Then, remembering something, he quickly added, "Your Highness, the grapes on Arbor aren't fully ripe yet, and the pears are at their best. Why don't we stay a few more days? Let the children learn some skills from you, and we can also show them our hospitality!"

Daemon looked at Gael and Mysaria. Gael smiled and nodded, "Arbor is so beautiful, it would be good to stay a few more days. It'll be a good opportunity for Dreamfyre to try the fresh berries here." Mysaria chimed in, "I also want to learn how to make sweet red wine from the Earl!"

As night deepened, the lights of Lyan's Port shone like stars scattered on the seashore. Daemon stood on the terrace of the main castle, gazing at the Redwyne Fleet in the distance, the blue and purple grape emblem glowing softly in the night. Glutton and Dreamfyre huddled on the beach, the white vapor formed from dragon breath intertwining with the sea mist, like two warm clouds.

Alyn and Horas were still practicing their swordsmanship on the beach under the tutelage of their elder William. The sound of their wooden swords clashing mingled with the sound of the waves, making it exceptionally clear. The laughter of the Earl and countess came from the banquet hall, intertwining with the clinking of wine glasses, like an overture to an alliance.

Daemon gripped the hilt of the Blackfyre tightly, the Dragon Mark on his right shoulder slightly warming. The sweet wine from Arbor not only warmed his stomach,

What warmed his heart even more was the House Redwyne's fleet, the pursuit of Alyn and Horas, and the island's abundance of grapes and fruit aromas—all of which became another bond on his pilgrimage journey.

The Oldtown's Citadel still lies ahead, and the threat of Dorne remains at sea, but at this moment, the wind on Arbor is warm.

The wine is sweet, and the people around me feel at ease.

This warmth will ultimately transform into his strength to protect Westeros, like the sails of Redwyne Fleet, raising the banner of the true dragons on the seas of the Seven Kingdoms.