The sea breeze blew in from the east across Blackwater Bay, carrying the salt tang of the Narrow Sea and brushing every sail in the Royal Fleet. The fierce afternoon sun turned the water into a field of shattered gold.
In the distance, the fleet was already half a day's sail from Driftmark, its black banners with their red dragons snapping from the masts.
"Skrraa-"
Meanwhile, an old dragon with a dark green body suddenly wheeled around in the opposite direction, letting out a low roar like muffled thunder as she turned back toward Driftmark.
Vhagar's enormous silhouette slowly banked across the sky. Her amber, slit-pupiled eyes swept over the fleet below, and every beat of her wings sent ripples rolling across the sea.
A graceful figure with long, curling silver-gold hair was just visible on her back-Laena Velaryon. Having finished seeing Aegon off, she was now riding Vhagar back to Driftmark.
Aegon watched that immense dark green shape recede into the distance and disappear into the clouds.
Laena's enticing offer before she left still lingered in his ears-"Let me take you to Dragonstone. Vhagar hasn't visited the Dragonmont in ages anyway"-and it had taken every scrap of reason he possessed to force himself to politely decline.
He knew that "bad woman" all too well. If he really let her take him to Dragonstone, she would probably find an excuse to stay a few more days once they reached the foot of the Dragonmont. By the time he returned to King's Landing from the Stepstones, Rhaenyra would explode.
Besides, he had only just managed to soothe his sister and fiancée over the past few days. He couldn't afford any fresh complications.
Speaking of soothing Rhaenyra-Aegon drew his gaze back from the distant clouds and stared speechlessly at his rebel brother,