Viserys said sternly, "Baelon!"
"Daemon is my brother."
"He will always have a place in my court."
Daemon smiled coldly and asked, "You don't need a dragon connected by blood, but instead you want to win over an outsider with ulterior motives?"
Baelon did not respond to Viserys.
He raised his head and looked directly at Daemon, "Otto holds diplomacy and combat plans. Once he becomes dissatisfied and takes refuge in Free Cities, that will be a threat to us..."
"Is he comparable to a giant dragon with blood connections?!"
Daemon raised his voice, and the roar almost made the flames on the torch sway, "You are very close to him, but you ignore me!"
"You are worried about his rebellion, but aren't you worried about my rebellion?!"
Baelon subconsciously blurted out, "You are different from them, you can't possibly..."
"Why isn't it possible?"
"You are Daemon·Targaryen, you love..."
Baelon suddenly lost his voice.
Like a summer lightning flash across the clouds in the night sky, it instantly illuminates the dark clouds.
He suddenly realized.
He can treat Otto and Larys with courtesy, but why can't he treat Daemon?!
Daemon has more destructive power than them, and rides "Blood Worm" Caraxes on its crotch.
He wasted six years, indulged in family emotional games, disturbed by unnecessary emotions. He should have treated Daemon like Larys and Otto.
suddenly.
Daemon raised his head and glanced at Baelon quietly.
Baelon It's hard to describe the complicated emotions at that glance.
The two people fell silent at the same time, and the wind blew loudly and passed between them, just like the long wind surrounding a giant dragon that was lazily resting after spewing out flames.
Daemon paused, not knowing what he was thinking.
He suddenly smiled, and a few seconds later, he smiled again.
He turned around and walked a few steps to the open window sill, facing away from everyone.
The sun was setting in the west, and the clouds were glowing with rose and gold light.
Daemon suddenly had no desire to get angry, he just felt funny and ironic.
Why treat him differently than Otto?
It turned out to be because Baelon subconsciously was so sure of his character and trusted his loyalty so much.
But it happened that this familiarity breeds neglect, trust breeds arrogance, and his loyalty makes Baelon unscrupulous.
Baelon looked at Daemon's back and listened to the strange laughter he made from time to time, and couldn't help but fall into silence.
He thought that even if Daemon loved Viserys, he would at least crave territory and power. This is human nature.
He thought he and Daemon were competing for power in the imperial court, but it turned out... that it was a family ethics drama?
Baelon's back relaxed, and he felt as if he was just competing with the air and a fool.
The afterglow of the setting sun shines into the house, making Council Chamber feel warm.
Viserys sighed inwardly, "Baelon, Daemon is your uncle."
Among Council Chamber, Daemon is leaning on the window sill with a casual posture. Behind him, at the long table, Baelon hangs his head stubbornly, his expression unclear.
Viserys and Rhaenyra happen to be on the left and right, standing between them.
At dusk, the messy Council Chamber was especially quiet after the loud noise.
Rhaenyra took a deep breath, took a few steps forward, and was about to speak to persuade his uncle.
Baelon suddenly spoke, "I understand, father."
"I am not targeting Daemon. I propose to promise Otto a city because I am afraid."
Baelon bent down, picked up the dinner plate and put it back on the table.
He lowered his eyes. Did he want to be tough and arrogant and win the verbal battle with Daemon?
That is meaningless, winning the war is meaningful.
Baelon sighed long and opened his heart, "I want Stepstones so much, I want to win so much, but I have never participated in a war. Deep in my heart... I am actually afraid."
"I am afraid that there are hidden dangers that I have ignored that will lead to failure. This thought is lurking in my mind, buzzing in my ears like a gadfly."
"I'm afraid that Otto and Corlys will betray us because of their own selfish desires and personal honor and disgrace."
Daemon There is no looking back.
Baelon paused and continued, "But I have never had that kind of fear towards you, not even once, uncle."
Daemon chuckled and turned around.
Baelon heard the laughter filling the air, and he tightened the raised corners of his mouth.
As long as Daemon is treated equally with Larys and Otto, it will be clear how to obtain the power of Caraxes.
Daemon sat back on the chair.
He sipped the golden wine and cleared his throat, "We will win."
"And..."
"You don't even have hair, you're only suitable for hiding behind the crowd." He patted Baelon on the shoulder sarcastically, "Who do you think you are when war is your responsibility?"
Baelon:...
The excitement that just arose was extinguished in an instant.
Viserys squatted down and said with emotion, "Baelon, you are the prophesied prince, the extraordinary Dreamwalker, but it does not mean that you are responsible for everything."
Rhaenyra held his hand and said, "I will protect you, don't be afraid."
You can grow up slowly, Baelon.
But when the words touched her lips, Viserys, Rhaenyra finally swallowed the words that she was not qualified to say.
Daemon breathed a sigh of relief and stretched his body, "Brother, lest some people are like timid lambs and fear defeat in a mere Stepstones battle, let Corlys command the fleet."
"Daemon?"
"I will ride the dragon and let the lambs who get into the dragon group see how strong the dragon is."
"In this way," Daemon glanced condescendingly at Baelon, "He will know that as long as we are willing to fight, the enemy will be shattered."
"How powerful we are, nothing can prevent us from winning."
Baelon feels calm, the routine is really popular, and the effect is surprisingly good.
He said, "Uncle, you will receive a war gift that no one else can match. My father left Sunspear..."
"Tsk."
Daemon said disdainfully, "I am not Otto·Hightower. If I want territory, why not stay in Vale?"
"And Free Cities, I have so many friends who are willing to give me luxurious mansions, vast farmland, and groups of servants..."
Daemon also can't understand his own heart.
He was no saint, and he did want land and power, but time and time again he refused the gifts that were offered to him.
They made a big fuss and fought for the command of the fleet, but then gave up easily.
Suddenly, he heard the voice of Baelon.
"This time I went to Iron Islands and I got a sword from a pirate. It's Valyrian steel sword."
"Valyrian steel sword?!" Viserys said in surprise.
There are only two House Targaryen, but Baelon actually got one from a pirate.
Baelon nodded, "I won't admit my mistake."
"It's a half-hand sword. The blade is as wide as a palm and about as long as me."
He looked at Daemon, "It's useless if it's left in my hand. Just accept this sword."
"I know you already have Dark Sister. You can find your Qohor friend and recast it as part of the armor."
He spoke sincerely and confessed, "I relied on my blood and family ties to be arrogant and offended to you. I am willing to let the fire recast Valyrian steel and burn away those unpleasant things."
"Let that sword be a witness to our emotions."
He ordered Ser Harrold to send the nameless Valyrian steel sword.
Daemon raised his eyebrows and drew his sword from its sheath.
Under the blood-red sunset, the sword's blade flashed a dark and deadly luster.
The sword body is wrapped in rough leather, and the hilt is stained with black stains, but Valyrian steel sword is still as sharp as the day it was cast.
"Valyrian steel sword Seven Kingdoms may only have two hundred handles. Do you really want to give it to me?"
"You won't regret it again in a few days, right?"
Baelon smiled and said, "Any gift that is given belongs to the recipient once it is handed into the palm of his hand."
"It would be a shame to take back a gift given."
Daemon returned the sharp blade to the scabbard and threw it into Baelon's arms, "Keep it for yourself, I don't need it."
He stopped looking at anyone and turned to look out the window, "And haven't you already given gifts in return?!"
"When you were three years old, I came back from Free Cities and gave you an olive branch."
"Didn't you also give me a crooked fork in return?"
They had exchanged gifts long ago, witnessed by the king and princess.
Although that time he brought back gold and gems for Viserys, and a sword inlaid with gems for Rhaenyra.
But that olive branch took root and sprouted in Red Keep, and its branches and leaves were luxuriant.
Three years have passed since the crooked head fork lost its luster, but it has not yet decayed.
Baelon remembered that one time Daemon came back from Free Cities and brought him rags again.
In return, he gave Daemon a tableware with a crooked head, a twisted fork, and an unusable cutlery.
"Ho--"
The roar of a strange dragon passed through the sky, tearing apart the calm.
Baelon felt something in his heart and walked to the window.
The red sun had already set halfway, and the sky was dyed a light rose pink. Three giant dragons rushed out of the red sun and circled in the sky.
Baelon stared at the largest dragon, "Vhagar..."
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