Dawn had only just broken, yet the harbor of New Valyria had never been as crowded as it was that day, not even on the day the capital was moved.
The harbor was already as bright as day, but the light came not from the rising sun, but from the countless torches in the soldiers' hands, bathing the entire stretch of sea in red.
At the docks, warships stood in orderly rows, their masts a forest, while the Three-Headed Fire Dragon Banner snapped in the sea breeze. The dragon's three heads faced different directions, symbolizing the power to command all.
Viserys stood atop the highest tower of the Valyrian Freehold, looking down at the bustling harbor in the distance. Rhaenys stood beside him in black-and-red Dragonriding Garb, her long black hair streaming in the morning breeze.
Dark Sister hung at her waist, its blade shimmering darkly. Viserys had given it to Rhaenys after bringing it back from the Wall. After all, it had always been a sword suited to a woman.
"Rhaenys, are you nervous?" Viserys turned to look at her as he asked.
Rhaenys shook her head, but her hand gripped the sword's hilt tightly. "I've waited a long time for this day, brother. To avenge my parents and my little brother."
Viserys studied her closely. The fifteen-year-old girl had long since shed her childishness, and her features now held a measure of resolve. Her purple eyes were fixed on the harbor, burning with the fire of vengeance.
"Then let's go," he said, reaching out to take Rhaenys's hand and steady her. "Let our enemies in Westeros see for themselves that the Targaryens have returned."
Before long, daylight had fully broken. Workers on the docks were still carrying the last of the supplies aboard, while soldiers boarded in orderly