The letters soon reached Aegon.
He opened Luciana's first.
The governor of the Narrow Sea Domain had always written concisely, and just a few pages gave him a clear account of the recent situation in the three cities.
Lys, Tyrosh, and Myr... the three former Free Cities had become the war machine driving his Western Expedition, its gears turning without pause.
Lys was his purse, sending a steady stream of gold to Westeros; Tyrosh supplied his troops, training and organizing new recruits before shipping them across the sea to reinforce the various fronts.
Myr was his arsenal, where craftsmen worked day and night forging weapons, armor, and siege engines, supplying the lifeblood of his armies.
Aegon's gaze paused on one passage in the letter.
Luciana had mentioned Daenerys. Her three young dragons were growing remarkably fast. Though they could not match his King Ghidorah, they were changing by the day, growing noticeably larger every few days.
They could already be ridden.
Daenerys had ridden Balerion, the largest, on a successful circuit above Lys and landed safely.
As Aegon read this, the corners of his mouth lifted slightly despite himself.
She had done it.
The once-timid girl had now become a Dragonrider herself.
Aegon set Luciana's letter down and sat in silence for a while before picking up Daenerys's.
The handwriting on the envelope was neat and meticulous, each stroke seemingly set down only after careful consideration.
He opened the envelope, drew out the letter, and unfolded it.
She made no mention of the dragons, of her newfound ability to ride them, or of any affairs of state.
She only asked whether he was well and eating on time. She said the climate in the Westerlands was unlike that of Lys at the southernmost end of Essos, and that, with the