A youthful promise

The morning light in King's Landing still carried the chill of sulfur wafting from the Dragonpit, yet the Iron Gate and the Gate of the Gods were already engaged in two separate, bustling activities.

One was the clanging bronze of the Regent of House Royce's army in the Vale, the other the fluttering trout flags of the Tully Guardians of the Riverlands. The two armies, like two staggered swords, drew traces of farewell and anticipation in the morning breeze.

The bronze door knockers of the Iron Gate still clung to the night dew. Yobert House Royce 'Earl runic greatsword slung across his saddle. Jeyne House Arryn, wrapped in a white fox fur cloak, peered through the carriage window, her little head bobbing as she gazed towards the Gate of the Gods.

Last night, when she secretly slipped out of her room and made a pinky promise with Gael, they agreed that Little Daemon would finish his mission to deliver the House Tully first, and then ride the Glutton to take her there. But now, the morning light had already spilled over the doorway, and that black figure still hadn't appeared.

"Lady Jeyne, it's time to depart." William House Royce reined in his horse, the House Corbray raven crest on his silver armor gleaming faintly in the light. He glanced at the young duke, his cheeks puffed out, and sighed helplessly. His cousin Rhea had told him that the boy had been throwing a tantrum since last night, and now he was saying he wouldn't get out of the carriage until he saw Little Daemon. Last night, his uncle, Earl Yobert, had tried to persuade him for a long time, only to be met with the reply, "I'll wait for him to pinky swear."

As they were talking, a steady thud of hooves came from the direction of the Red Keep. Prince Baelon Targaryen's crimson robe swept across the cobblestones, and Vhagar's deep dragon roar came from the Blackwater Rush in the distance, as if to give farewell.

Daemon Targaryen, following behind him, looked impatient, his black cloak billowing in the wind, and he clutched half a piece of unfinished breakfast in his hand.

She looked like she'd been dragged out of bed; her hair wasn't even combed properly.

"Earl Yobert," Baelon dismounted, his palm resting on the dragon-patterned scabbard at his waist. An old wound in his ribs slowed his movements slightly, yet he still carried the majesty of a crown prince. "The eagle of the Vale has always been the backbone of the Seven Kingdoms. House Royce's bronze-like steadfastness and nobility have earned my trust. Upon your return, if the Mountain Clans dares to disturb our borders again, the Dragonfire of the Targaryen and the Iron Throne will be burning brightly over Moon Gate Keep for you."

Yobert bowed, his gaze sweeping over Daemon Targaryen behind Baelon, a complex emotion flickering in his eyes.

When welcoming the Vale party last time, this "Rogue Prince" not only greeted the Tully party of Riverlands in front of all the nobles of King's Landing, but also mocked Rhea House Royce's bronze armor as "like a rusty iron plate" when they met. If Viserys and Daemon Blackfyre hadn't stopped him in time, House Royce's sword would probably have been drawn on the spot.

"Your Highness, rest assured," Yobert's voice was as steady as a rock in Vale, "I will protect Lady Jeyne's safety with the honor of the House Royce. However—"

He looked at Rhea, the daughter of House Royce, who was gripping the hilt of her runic sword and coldly watching Daemon Targaryen. "We hope Your Highness will take charge of the marriage between our Rhea and His Highness Big Daemon."

Baelon's face instantly darkened, and he turned to glare at Daemon Targaryen: "Did you hear that? Rhea is your wife. You're staying in Runestone for a few days now, and you're not allowed to act like this in King's Landing —if I ever hear of you staying in Silk Street again, or giving Rhea the cold shoulder, I'll tie you to Vhagar's Claw and have it carry you around Crab Claw Peninsula three times!"

Daemon Targaryen pursed his lips, stuffed his breakfast into his mouth, and mumbled indistinctly, "I know, I know, it's just staying in Runestone for a few days, what's the big deal? I'll go myself after the New Year if I want to, I'll just ride Caraxes there----"

Before he could finish speaking, Baelon gave him a hard knock on the back of the head, making him wince in pain. This caused Rhea to chuckle, and the scales on her bronze armor shimmered in the light, losing some of their usual coldness.

"I originally intended to put you in the Vale's group and have you go with Rhea," Baelon said in a low voice, his tone full of disappointment, "But if your mother were watching from heaven, she'd probably crawl out of her grave and beat you up if she saw how useless you are."

Daemon Targaryen's arrogance instantly diminished. He scratched his head, glanced furtively at Rhea, and seeing that she was talking to Yobert and not paying attention, he quietly retorted, "Last time I just watched a team duel with Miss Lysa, I didn't do anything—"

"You dare Lysa!" Baelon's voice rose even higher, drawing the attention of the surrounding Vale knights. "If Viserys and Little Daemon hadn't stopped you that day, you would have been given another beating by your grandfather and me, and then locked up for a few days!"

These words silenced Daemon Targaryen completely. He kicked his horse's flank, his gaze falling on Jeyne's carriage, when suddenly his eyes lit up. "Hey, why isn't Duchess Jeyne getting out of the carriage yet? Is she waiting for Little Daemon?"

Yobert nodded helplessly. "Last night, Lady Jeyne spoke with Princess Gael, saying that they would wait for Prince Little Daemon to come and deliver it, and only after they made a pinky promise would it count."

Baelon breathed a sigh of relief. He looked towards the direction of the Gate of the Gods, where he could vaguely see the shadows of fish-shaped banners in the morning light. "That kid should be here soon. He's sensible and won't let Jeyne down."

No sooner had the words left his mouth than a rapid sound of hooves came from the east. The Glutton's Black Dragon shadow swept across the city wall. Daemon's black dragon scale armor gleamed coldly in the light. Gael rode Dreamfyre behind him, her light purple skirt like a flower floating in the wind.

"Little Daemon!" Jeyne's voice came from inside the carriage. She was waving her hand at the window, her little face full of excitement, and her previous grievances vanished instantly.

Daemon dismounted and strode to the carriage, reaching out to ruffle Jeyne's hair. "Why aren't you getting out? Earl Yobert is getting impatient."

"I'll wait for you to pinky swear!" Jeyne held out her little finger, her eyes sparkling. "I made a promise with Gael last night that I wouldn't leave unless you saw me off."

Daemon smiled and hooked his little finger around hers, his fingertip touching her cold hand. He instinctively wrapped his palm around it. "Okay, pinky promise. During this Joint Fleet training exercise, I'll take the opportunity to ride the Glutton to Eyrie to see you, and take you to see the snow in the Mountains of the Moon, okay?"

Jeyne nodded emphatically before allowing William House Royce to carry her out of the car.

She walked over to Rhea, tilted her head back, and whispered in the other's ear, "Rhea, will you keep a close eye on Uncle Big Daemon this time? Don't let him make you angry again."

Rhea paused for a moment, then smiled. She crouched down and gently patted Jeyne's head. "Yes, I will make him chop wood and feed the horses. If he dares to slack off, I'll hit him on the head with my runestone greatsword."

Daemon Targaryen listened with a grimacing expression, but dared not refute him—he was afraid that if he opened his mouth, Baelon would really tie him to Vhagar.

A hint of relief flashed in Baelon's eyes as he looked at the scene before him.

He gently embraced Yobert: "Be careful on the road. If anything goes wrong, send a raven with a message immediately."

Yobert bowed and turned to the Vale troops, shouting, "Let's go!"

The bronze runic sword gleamed coldly in the morning light. Jeyne clung to Rhea's saddle, still waving to Daemon: "Little Daemon, you have to come to the Eyrie!"

Daemon waved in response, only turning his gaze away after the bronze-armored figures in the Vale's ranks disappeared outside the Iron Gate.

Gail walked over to him and handed him a piece of breakfast. "Luckily you made it in time. Just now at the Gate of the Gods, Earl Grafford of House Tully asked you why you seemed distracted."

Daemon took the honey cake, took a bite, and the sweet aroma spread across his tongue.

He was indeed absent-minded when he saw off the Riverlands troops, but his mind wasn't on Jenny. Instead, he was worried that Damon Targaryen might act the same way he did when he welcomed them. Luckily, Leon and Harlan were quick-witted enough to chat with the Tullys about the Allied Fleet, which prevented Lord Grave from noticing anything amiss.

Rewinding to the moment just now, at the Gate of the Gods, Grover Tully's trout flag was flying over the carriage. Lysa Tully stood beside her father, glancing occasionally toward the Iron Gate. She had heard last night that His Big Daemon would be escorting the Vale caravan, and she felt a pang of disappointment. If her father hadn't urged her on, she would have loved to wait a little longer.

"Your Highness Daemon," Grover greeted him immediately, grasping Daemon 'Daemon hand with gratitude in his voice, "During your last tour of the Riverlands, thanks to your mediation of the long-standing feud between House Bracken and Blackwood, the Riverlands remain peaceful today, and you deserve much of the credit."

Daemon smiled and shook his head, "Your Grace, you're too kind. I was just doing what I was supposed to do. Once the Joint Fleet is formed, the coastal areas of the Riverlands will naturally be jointly protected by the Joint Fleet. Don't worry."

He looked at Lysa, who had her head down and was clutching a silk handkerchief embroidered with trout patterns in her hand. He said softly, "Miss Lysa, my cousin, His Highness Big Daemon, was just joking during the last team competition. Don't take it to heart. Although he's a carefree man, he means no harm. If I have the chance, I'll advise him to handle your relationship with Miss Rhea better, so it won't cause trouble between the Vale and the Riverlands."

Lysa's face flushed instantly. She looked up, a hint of surprise flashing in her eyes, then lowered her head again and whispered, "Your Highness has gone to so much trouble. I—I just think Miss Rhea is very brave."

Grover looked at his daughter and smiled helplessly. He took a parchment scroll from the carriage and handed it to Daemon: "This is a map of the Riverlands, marked with shallows Ironborn can be easily hidden. It might be useful to the Joint Fleet."

Each household in the Riverlands has also sent twenty archers, who will assemble at Blackwater Bay next month to be under the command of Prince Baelon.

Daemon took the map and carefully put it away. "Thank you, Duke. I will give it to Uncle Baelon."

Rayford Rosby and Myles Rivers approached, Rayford holding a list in his hand. "Your Highness, the House Tully's team is ready, and Colin is giving instructions to the House Blackwood's sons. If you're in a hurry to escort Duchess Jeyne, you can leave this to us."

Daemon nodded and waved gently to Grover: "Your Grace, have a safe journey. See you again in our Joint Fleet."

Grover bowed and watched Daemon ride off towards the Iron Gate on his Glutton before saying to Lysa, "Let's go, Lysa, we should head back to Riverrun."

Lysa nodded, glanced one last time in the direction of the Iron Gate, and then followed her father into the carriage. The trout flag fluttered in the wind and gradually disappeared into the tree-lined path Gate of the Gods.

Watching the departing procession, Rayford said to Myles, "His Highness seems quite fond of Duchess Jeyne. Last night, Duchess Jeyne went to Princess Gael's room, saying she wanted to sneak into His Highness's room, and Princess Gael actually took her there. The two of them made a pinky promise at the door and didn't go back until midnight."

Myles laughed heartily, "Our Highness is just too soft-hearted with children. Last time at Eyrie, when Duchess Jeyne wanted to ride the Glutton, His Highness actually lifted her onto the dragon's back, scaring Earl Yobert so much his face turned pale."

Their laughter echoed through the Gate of the Gods. The morning light spilled over the Oak Shield, gradually erasing the traces of the Riverlands' army, leaving only the faint scent of the river in the air, as if concluding this farewell.

Daemon changed horses and headed towards the Red Keep. Glutton circled high in the sky, their black dragon wings sweeping across the city walls, attracting the attention of the commoners of King's Landing.

Gael rode her Dreamfyre beside him, her light purple skirt fluttering in the wind like a blooming flower.

"Jeyne's eyes lit up when she pinky-swore with you just now," Gael said with a smile. "She also told me that when you go to Eyrie, she'll take you to see the prisoners in Eyrie's dungeon, saying that they tremble with fear at the sight of the Glutton."

Daemon couldn't help but laugh, "This little girl is even bolder than Earl Yobert. Last time at Eyrie, she insisted on touching the Glutton's scales, which nearly made Yobert Earl."

As they talked, the two approached the Red Keep. Prince Baelon and Daemon Targaryen were standing at the Red Keep. Baelon's expression had improved considerably, while Daemon Targaryen looked aggrieved, clearly having been scolded again.

"You're back?" Baelon said with a smile when he saw Daemon. "When Jeyne left, she was asking you when you were going to Eyrie. Earl Yobert said he would reserve the best room for you Eyrie."

Daemon nodded. "I'll go as soon as possible. After the Joint Fleet training is over, I'd also like to go back to Crab Claw Peninsula and the Vale to check on the defenses there."

Baelon nodded in satisfaction. "Good, I support you. You understand military affairs better than Viserys, and you know better than Big Daemon. The future of the family needs someone like you."

Daemon Targaryen muttered from the side, "I know about military matters too, you know. Last time I went on a solo mission to Tyrosh, I even killed three pirates—"

Baelon glared at him, and he immediately shut up, but secretly gave Daemon a wink, as if to say, "Let's go to the Narrow Sea together next time."

"By the way, why didn't I see Viserys and Aemma carrying Rhaenyra to see Jeyne and the others off today?" Daemon suddenly remembered that he hadn't seen the family of three today.

But no sooner had Daemon finished speaking than he saw Baelon's beaming face and Daemon Targaryen's winking.

"We might be going to be uncles again, you know. Little Daemon, you and Gael better hurry up!" Daemon Targaryen revealed the truth, then skipped over himself and Rhea House Royce, teasing his cousin and aunt of the same name.

However, this provoked a blushing Gael to chase after him, "frightening" Daemon Targaryen into fleeing.

Daemon watched this scene, shaking his head with a smile. He looked up at the Glutton in the distance, its dark dragon silhouette appearing particularly majestic in the morning light.

He knew that this parting was not the end, but the beginning of the Joint Fleet protecting the Seven Kingdoms, and the beginning of him, Gael, Jeyne, and all their followers protecting this peace together.

The wind carried the roar of dragons from their Dragonpit, mingling with the tolling bells of the Red Keep, like a war hymn for the future. Daemon gripped the Blackfyre at his waist, the hilt's coolness bringing a strange sense of peace to his heart.

He must not only stop the Dance of the Dragons and defend against the threat of the White Walkers, but also uphold the promises he made to them, and preserve the warmth and peace of a century ago.