And Don't Marry Someone Too Strong-Willed

The banquet hall of High Tide blazed with candlelight, the air rich with the buttery scent of roasted lobster and the mellow aroma of Essosi red wine.

Corlys Velaryon raised his cup and smiled at the Braavosi merchants who had been invited in for drinks before their departure. "Gentlemen, my wife's younger brother is visiting today, and family matters are keeping us busy. How about we discuss the spice trade in detail another day?"

The merchants rose to bid farewell, not forgetting to nod respectfully to Daemon on their way out. Clearly, the story of this Targaryen prince riding the Black Dragon alongside Prince Baelon and his namesake cousin to burn the fleets of three cities had long spread throughout the Free Cities, making him a celebrated figure on both shores of the Narrow Sea.

Once the last merchant disappeared through the doors, Corlys immediately set down his wine cup and let out a long breath. "At last, I can speak freely."

Rhaenys snorted with laughter, utterly unconcerned about exposing Lord Sea Snake's true nature. Having just placed a slice of lemon cake onto Laena's plate, she said, "You've been pretending to be refined in front of merchants all day. Aren't you tired?" She turned to Daemon, mischief glinting in her eyes. "Speaking of which, King's Landing has been quite lively lately. I heard Big Daemon got beaten up by Baelon? Just because he dragged you off to Silk Street?"

Daemon was peeling lobster shells for Gael when his hands paused. "Sister, your information travels quickly."

"The whole Crownlands knows by now." Rhaenys took a sip of red wine, her tone growing more animated. "Some say that after you came back from Silk Street, you seemed like a different person. Even King Jaehaerys praised you for becoming more composed. It seems Big Daemon, as a cautionary example, did manage to do one good thing."

Gael's cheeks turned as red as ripe apples, and she gently tugged at Daemon's sleeve. Outside by the shore, Dreamfyre let out a low rumble. Her pale blue scales reflected the candlelight like scattered diamonds.

"Speaking of dragons," Rhaenys said, turning to Gael, "our little princess aunt is truly remarkable. You actually tamed Dreamfyre. When I tamed Meleys back then, it took far more effort than that."

Laena suddenly raised her hand. "Mother, I want to ride a dragon like Gael!"

"When you're a little older." Rhaenys smiled and ruffled her daughter's hair. Her gaze circled between Daemon and Gael before she suddenly dropped a bombshell. "Come to think of it, I once planned to wait until Laena grew up and marry her to Little Daemon. Looks like there's no chance now—my little Daemon has completely fallen beneath Aunt Gael's pomegranate skirt, hasn't he?"

The banquet hall instantly fell silent.

Gael's face flushed scarlet in an instant, even the tips of her ears turning pink. She wanted nothing more than to bury her head in her plate.

Seven-year-old Laena covered her face in embarrassment as well, peeking at Daemon through her fingers as she softly called, "Mother..."

Daemon choked violently on the bread crumbs in his mouth, his face turning bright red.

Mysaria hurriedly rose to pat his back and bring him a cup of water, nearly knocking over the wine jug in her fluster.

The most miserable of all was Corlys—he sprayed out the red wine he had just swallowed, splattering it across his own silver-gray brocade robe. Several drops landed with perfect accuracy on Laenor's silver hair beside him.

"Waaah—" Four-year-old Laenor, who had loved cleanliness since birth and had never been "treated" like this before, took one look at the wine stains in his hair and burst into tears.

"Corlys Velaryon!" Rhaenys's furious roar exploded through the banquet hall. Looking at her husband's disheveled state and then at her son's tear-streaked face, she trembled with rage. "Look at what you've done!"

This family dinner ended hastily amid Rhaenys's fury. The maids carried away the wailing Laenor, while Corlys tried to slink off to change clothes, only to be scolded by Rhaenys for half an hour.

Daemon seized the chance to sneak back to the guest rooms with Gael and Mysaria. Rhaenys's roaring could still be faintly heard behind them.

High Tide was especially quiet late at night, with only the sound of waves crashing against the reefs.

Daemon had just coaxed the little princess—who claimed she was scared, brought little Mysaria along to keep her company, and had "secretly slipped" into his room before expertly curling up in his arms—into a half-asleep state. Mysaria had curled into a ball beside them as well when a soft knock suddenly sounded at the door.

"Who is it?" Daemon asked warily.

"It's me, Corlys." The Sea Snake's helpless voice came from outside. "Could you open the door?"

Daemon gave Gael and Mysaria a reassuring look, gently lifted the covers, got out of bed, and opened the door a crack.

There stood Lord Sea Snake Corlys, already past forty-five, wearing nothing but a thin white nightshirt wrapped in a wool blanket. His hair was a mess, and none of his daytime vigor remained.

"It's so late. Is something wrong?" Daemon asked quietly.

"You're going to Crab Island in a few days, right?" Corlys squeezed through the opening and lowered his voice. "I happen to be sailing for Braavos. I can give you a lift for part of the journey. Let's go inside and talk..."

His words abruptly caught in his throat when he noticed Daemon staring suspiciously at his nightclothes.

Corlys's old face reddened, and he simply came clean. "Rhaenys threw me out. She said she wanted to sleep with Laena and Laenor. She ordered the steward and guards not to let me leave the castle, and not to open any other rooms for me. I truly had nowhere else to go, so I could only come to the guest rooms."

Daemon raised a brow. "Sorry, that's not very convenient."

Corlys froze for a moment, then understood. A knowing look appeared on his face.

He cleared his throat and put on the solemn air of an elder. "I've been young myself... Though I'm a devout follower of the Seven Gods, I'm not some old-fashioned prude. Still, there are matters where one must know restraint. Having a child before marriage is absolutely unacceptable. It would harm the lady's reputation..."

"You should go next door." Daemon cut him off directly, pointing to the neighboring room. "That's Gael's guest room."

"No, no!" Corlys waved his hands repeatedly. "If Rhaenys sees me coming out of Gael's room tomorrow, she'll kill me!"

Daemon sighed helplessly and woke Gael and Mysaria. The two girls rubbed their sleepy eyes, and when they heard they were going to Gael's room, Gael's face reddened again.

"You'll have to make do for one night." Daemon pushed Corlys into his own room, then said to the awkward-looking Gael and Mysaria, "We'll go to your room."

Corlys looked at the blushing Gael and Mysaria with the expression of someone who had been there before. Still, he quietly muttered that youth was truly something, then silently gave them a thumbs-up.

Daemon could not be bothered with him and slammed the door shut with a bang.

The room Rhaenys had arranged for Gael was slightly smaller than Daemon's, but more exquisitely decorated. Pale blue tapestries hung on the walls, and the air carried the fragrance of lavender.

Gael soon fell asleep again, her little head resting against Daemon's chest, her breathing even.

Mysaria also slept soundly beside them, her platinum curls gleaming softly in the moonlight.

Daemon looked at the moonlight outside the window, thinking of Rhaenys's forcefulness earlier and Corlys's current predicament. He could not help murmuring, "Rhaenys was right after all... Don't marry someone too strong-willed either, or life will be impossible..."

Moonlight filtered through the window lattice, casting mottled shadows across the floor like a silent song, slowly flowing through High Tide's deep night alongside the breathing of the three of them.