These words are like a carefully adjusted ruler, every inch is measured extremely accurately, and every scale corresponds to a node of Viserys's mental state.
Her father is a precise chess player. He is not eager for success or greedy for success. He makes every move steadily and places every chess piece in the most appropriate position.
She only needs to follow her father's chess rules.
There is no need for innovation, no need to take risks, no need to make any earth-shattering moves on the chessboard that will make your opponent exclaim "wonderful move".
She only needs to walk step by step and steadily on the road that her father has paved for her, and reach the position that her father wants her to reach.
That position is called "Queen".
She is not the queen of Viserys - she is already one. She is the future queen of a certain king, the real queen with real power.
She is the queen of Aegon, the mother of the next king of House Targaryen, and the most powerful woman in this Seven Kingdoms besides the king himself.
She closed her eyes.
The moonlight outside the window is getting darker and darker. The moon has moved to the edge of the sea level and will sink soon.
Blackwater Bay On the sea surface, those sparkling light spots also disappeared one after another, as if someone was blowing out candles one by one in a distant place.
There was a cry from the distance that she didn't know what it was. It was long and low, like the roar of a dragon, the sound of the wind, or just a hallucination she had when she was about to fall asleep.
Tomorrow, Viserys will write a letter. The day after tomorrow, the letter will be sent to Oldtown. The day after tomorrow, her father will receive the letter.
She knew what her father would look like the moment he received the letter - his dark blue eyes would light up like two polished sapphires; a determined, almost greedy smile would appear on his face that had been carved with countless wrinkles by time;
He would stand up, walk to the window, open the window, and let the Oldtown sea breeze flow in, blow on his face, blow on his white hair, and blow on his dark green robe embroidered with the tower emblem.
He would take a deep breath, taking the salty wind with the smell of sea water and seaweed into his lungs, and then slowly exhale it.
He has been waiting for this day for a long time.
So does she.
Dragonstone's morning started with King Ghidorah's snoring.
The three heads Dragon were curled up in the open space in the center of the castle courtyard, their bodies coiled into a huge golden ring, and the three heads were pillowing each other. The middle one was on the left neck, the left one was on the right neck, and the right one was pillowed back on the middle neck, forming a perfect, closed triangle.
Its breathing was low and long, and each exhalation brought with it a warm, sulfur-scented air current, blowing away the dust from the flower beds and stone pillars that it had crushed in the courtyard.
Occasionally, a head would move slightly in his sleep, his eyelids would twitch, and he would make a vague grunt, as if he was talking in his sleep, and then become quiet again.
Redd has been awake for a long time. He stood in front of the tower window at the highest point of the castle. The sea breeze poured in through the open window and blew on his bare head. The morning light coated his outline with a dark golden edge.
He was wearing a black, soft linen robe, without any emblems or decorations on the robe, and a leather rope was casually tied around his waist. He looked like an ordinary person who had just woken up and had not yet decided what to do today, not the Dragon King who made the whole Westeros and Essos tremble.
But those eyes betrayed him. Those black, bottomless eyes, like two ancient wells forgotten in the mountains, were staring at the faint, gray-white line on the sea in the distance - that was the direction of King's Landing.
Of course, the outline of King's Landing cannot be seen from this distance. We can only see the blurry line where the sea and the sky meet, which is darker than the sky and lighter than the sea, like a light ink-like trace spread by water.
But he didn't need to see King's Landing. He had already seen everything from the information Mesalia sent every morning.
Mesalia came to his room every morning and was never late.
No matter how late she stayed with him the night before, no matter how tired her body was, no matter whether she took a bath in the warm water or not,
On that soft bed, in his arms, in those moments that made her blush and make her heart beat, made her forget her name, and made her feel like there were only the two of them left in the world,
Forgetting that she still had a job to do, she would appear at the door of his study on time the next morning, Dawn when the first ray of light entered the window.
Today, Mesalia wore a dark blue long dress. The neckline of the dress was opened lower than usual, revealing a piece of snow-white skin that was slightly shiny by the morning light, as if it were gelatin.
Her hair was tied back and fixed with a silver hairpin inlaid with pearls and sapphires. A few loose curls were attached to her ears and neck, swaying gently with the rhythm of her walking.
She had a just right, gentle smile on her face, as if saying "Good morning, my master", but in her hands she held a stack of thick parchment paper, with uneven edges and densely written small words that required a magnifying glass to see clearly.
intelligence.
Redd didn't look back, he was still looking out the window in that direction.
King Ghidorah's snoring came from the courtyard, occasionally mixed with a long, vague sound like a hiccup in a dream, adding some embellishment between him and the sea breeze.
Mesalia walked behind him, bowed slightly, and placed the stack of parchment on the windowsill.
She didn't speak - she didn't need to speak, Redd knew she was there, she knew Redd knew she was there, the tacit understanding between them had gone deep into their bones, and it was superfluous to communicate with words.
Redd stretched out his hand, picked up the top piece of parchment, and unfolded it.
His reading speed was extremely fast, and his pair of black eyes swept across the paper quickly, like two shuttles gliding on the ice, passing by, capturing every word, every punctuation, every information hidden between the lines, and stuffing them into the "drawers" in his brain that had been divided and corresponded to different City-States, different families, and different characters.
It took him less than half a cup of tea to read all the information - not because he read quickly, but because he had to read and process this information every day. Those names, those events, those numbers and dates were so familiar that he could close his eyes and draw a complete, ever-changing, dynamic map of the Seven Kingdoms power structure in his mind.