The Golden Eagle's Ambition

On the evening of their second day in Gulltown, the sea breeze carried the distinctive salty stench of Crab Bay through the courtyard of House Shett.

The bonfire in the courtyard crackled, illuminating the eager faces around it. Daemon sat at the head of the table, with Gael to his left and Lord Grafton to his right. Across from him sat the head of House Shett and the head of House Arryn's Gulltown branch.

"Your Highness, try this." The head of House Shett was a short, stout middle-aged man dressed in a brown fur robe embroidered with nine white seagulls. He handed Daemon a roasted seagull. "It is House Shett's finest specialty. Outsiders cannot get a taste of it even if they want to."

Daemon accepted it with a smile and took a bite. The meat was somewhat tough, but the flavor was rather unique. "Not bad."

"I'm glad Your Highness likes it." The Shett lord smiled until his eyes narrowed to slits. He clearly had no great ambitions and merely wanted to please this prince from King's Landing.

In stark contrast to the head of House Shett was Edwin Arryn, head of House Arryn's Gulltown branch. He wore a blue cloak bearing a silver moon and golden falcon. Though merely a branch of the main Arryn line, he carried himself with far more confidence than the Shett lord.

He kept filling Daemon's cup, shrewd light glinting in his eyes.

"Your Highness, what do you think of our Gulltown?" Edwin Arryn asked, with a hint of carefully concealed probing in his tone.

"It is lively and prosperous," Daemon replied mildly. "Worthy of being the Vale's gateway to distant seas."

"Your Highness flatters us." Edwin Arryn smiled. "But compared to prosperity, I admire Your Highness's valor even more. I heard that on the Crab Claw Peninsula, you repelled the Wildlings with only a few dozen men? And brought House Bren and House Crabb to heel as well?"

Daemon did not answer directly, merely raising his cup. "Everyone fought bravely. I was simply fortunate."

"Your Highness is too modest." Edwin Arryn leaned closer and lowered his voice. "A talent such as yours ought to accomplish far greater things. You see, though House Arryn of Gulltown is a branch line, we are still descendants of true Andal nobility. In those days, our ancestor Atis Arryn I was the hero who united the entire Vale."

He paused, sweeping his gaze over everyone present before letting it settle on Daemon. "A pity that the Eyrie is now controlled by a woman and an old stubborn fool. Lady Jeyne Arryn is young, while that old relic Yorbert Royce uses the title of regent to seize the Vale's authority. He does not regard us true Arryns at all."

Daemon's heart stirred, and he immediately understood the intent of this Arryn branch lord. He wanted to win Daemon over against Yorbert Royce and perhaps even seize rule of the Vale through this opportunity.

"Lord Yorbert Royce is the Vale's regent and Warden of the Mountains. That is recognized by His Grace the king," Daemon said without revealing anything. "As members of the royal family, we ought to respect the lords and traditions of every land."

Edwin Arryn had clearly not expected that answer. He froze for a moment, then smiled again. "Your Highness is right. I merely feel that a young hero such as yourself deserves greater support. House Arryn of Gulltown may not compare to the main line at the Eyrie, but we do possess some resources. If Your Highness has any 'undertakings' in need of support, we are willing to offer our modest aid."

He clapped his hands, and a boy of about ten approached. He wore a suit of exquisite silver armor and had delicate, handsome features, resembling Edwin Arryn somewhat. "This is my eldest son, Esenbar Arryn."

Edwin Arryn introduced him, "He has liked handling account books since childhood and has read quite a few books. If Your Highness does not mind, would you let him serve as your squire? He could gain experience following Your Highness."

Esenbar Arryn immediately dropped to one knee and offered up a small sword with both hands. "Please take me in, Your Highness!"

Daemon looked at the expectation in the boy's eyes, then at Edwin Arryn's determined expression, and could not help finding it amusing. This head of an Arryn branch had truly paid a high price to win him over.

"Esenbar is adorable, and he seems clever as well." Daemon helped the boy up and patted his head. "But this journey of mine will be dangerous, and bringing along a child would be inconvenient. Once I return to King's Landing, if you still wish it, have your father send you to the Red Keep to find me."

Esenbar Arryn's eyes instantly lit up. "Really? Thank you, Your Highness!"

Though Edwin Arryn had failed to make his son Daemon's squire immediately, he had gained a promise. A satisfied smile appeared on his face. "Thank you for granting this, Your Highness."

Seeing this, the head of House Shett hurriedly added, "Your Highness is truly kind. House Shett may not have much money, but if Your Highness has any commands, we will certainly spare no effort."

Daemon merely smiled without speaking. He knew that most of these nobles' overtures were driven by considerations of profit. Though he disliked it, before the coming storm, one more friend was still better than one more enemy.

The banquet did not end until late into the night. When Daemon returned to the quarters Lord Grafton had arranged for them, Gael and Mysaria were already asleep. He sat by the window, gazing at the moonlight outside as countless thoughts ran through his mind.

He thought of Edwin Arryn's words, of Yorbert Royce, and of Jeyne Arryn. The situation in the Vale seemed more complicated than he had imagined, hidden away in corners unrecorded by history.

Thinking of the troubles between his namesake great-grandfather's "cousin," Daemon Targaryen, and Rhea Royce only made his head ache worse.

"What a nuisance," Daemon muttered. He knew Rhea Royce's temper. Her character was like an unyielding stone; even someone as unruly as Daemon Targaryen had been helpless against her.

At the thought of seeing her again, Daemon's scalp tingled. He even felt as though he were about to meet Lady Jocelyn Baratheon again—the widow of Prince Aemon. Though gentle, she possessed an almost motherly authority in her gaze that made him somewhat uneasy.

"Enough of that." Daemon shook his head and cast those troublesome thoughts aside.

Tomorrow, they would leave Gulltown for Runestone. Whatever awaited him there, he had to face it.

Early the next morning, the party was ready to depart. Lord Grafton, the head of House Shett, and Edwin Arryn all came to see them off.

Lord Grafton gave Daemon an exquisite dagger. Its sheath was set with sapphires and was said to glow in the dark.

Edwin Arryn, meanwhile, pressed a purse full of gold coins into Daemon's hands, saying it was a "meeting gift" for Esenbar.

Though the Shett lord had no valuable gifts to offer, he prepared ample dried provisions and water for the party.

"Take care on the road, Your Highness." Lord Grafton clasped Daemon's hand. "House Royce of Runestone may be stubborn, but they are reasonable enough. So long as you respect their traditions, there should be no trouble."

"I will." Daemon nodded. "Thank you, my lord, for your hospitality these past days."

"You are too courteous, Your Highness." Lord Grafton smiled. "Once your journey is over, you are welcome to visit Gulltown again."

Daemon swung into the saddle and rode alongside the party, looking back once at the bustling city.

Gulltown's walls gleamed gray in the sunlight, ships still crowded its harbor, and the white buildings of Maris Sept shone in the distance.

"Move out!" Daemon gave the order, and the party slowly left Gulltown, heading toward Runestone.

Glutton and Dreamfyre circled high above, releasing deep dragon roars as though escorting them on their journey.

Daemon looked at the winding road ahead, and a sudden premonition arose within him: the journey to Runestone would likely not be as peaceful as Gulltown had been.

The party gradually traveled farther away, while Gulltown grew smaller and smaller behind them before finally vanishing beyond the horizon.

Daemon tightened his grip on Blackfyre. The warmth of its hilt seemed to remind him that his journey still had a long, long way to go. And his own story had only just begun.