"What's the situation with King's Landing?" he asked, his eyes still fixed on the few lines of data on the grain storage of Dorne on the last page.
Mesalia stood behind him, with her hands folded in front of her, her posture dignified and respectful.
Her voice is soft and clear, and every word is like silverware that has been carefully polished, clean, precise, and without any unnecessary modifications.
"Everything is almost as expected by His Highness." Mesalia's voice was smooth and smooth, as if she was reading a report that had been proofread repeatedly, "King Viserys's health has recovered well, and he returned to Small Council the day before yesterday.
He didn't seem to have anything unusual, he was gentle to everyone and spoke very appropriately, as if nothing had happened."
She paused, and then continued, "But that night he wrote a letter to Oldtown's Otto·Hai Tarth. Although the wording in the letter was polite, the core meaning was very clear - he invited Otto to come back."
Redd tapped his fingers on the window sill twice. "Has the letter been delivered?"
"Sent it out. Early this morning, it came out of the side door of Red Keep. It was led by a messenger wearing ordinary merchant clothes and left King's Landing mixed in with the caravan leaving the city."
Mesalia answered with a hint of pride in her tone - not the kind of pride that seeks credit, but the calm determination that a person who feels confident in her own intelligence network would have when showing the results to her master. "What do you mean, Your Highness?"
Redd turned around, and the morning light shone from behind him, casting his figure on the wall of the study. The shadow was stretched very long, extending from the ground to the ceiling, like a slowly growing black mountain peak.
He walked to the desk and sat down, casually placing the stack of parchment on the table, raising his head and looking at Mesalia.
"Viserys," he said, his voice as calm as if he were discussing the heat of a dish, "I'm going to change my mind."
He stood up, walked to the window, and looked in the direction of King's Landing again.
The gray-white line was still in the distance, a little brighter than before, as if someone had lit a lamp on the sea through a gauze curtain.
His fingers tapped on the window sill twice more, the rhythm faster than before.
"My son must ride Iron Throne."
When he heard himself say these words, what emerged in his mind was not a picture, but a weight - a heavy feeling that surged up from deep in his chest, as if he was being suppressed by something.
His son Jaehaerys, the little thing who was born in his marriage to Rhaenyra and who is already walking now, is a named, living person who needs to be protected by him.
Redd took his hand back from the window sill, clenched it into a fist, and hung it by his side.
His eyes passed through the mist on the sea, through the clouds and the wings of seagulls, through the invisible horizon that separated Dragonstone and King's Landing, and landed on the red castle that symbolized the highest power of Seven Kingdoms.
"Your Highness," Mesalia's voice came from behind, with a cautious and tentative tone, "What are you going to do?"
Redd was silent for a moment. He heard King Ghidorah's snoring coming up from the courtyard. The giant beast didn't know what it was dreaming about in its sleep. It let out a low, hiccup-like grunt, then turned over, pulled out a head from the neck of its companions, and changed the pillow at a more comfortable angle. Those small sounds fell on his ears, making the entire study seem particularly quiet.
"It's time for me to go King's Landing." He said.
Mesalia's pupils shrank slightly. Her eyes fell on the side of his face - the face that was plated with a golden edge in the morning light, without any expression, as calm as a bottomless pool of water. You can never see what is at the bottom of the pool, so you can never guess what will emerge from it in the next second.
"Ring the bell for Viserys," Redd continued with a calm voice, "Let him wake up. Also remind the queen, don't think that her and her father's little tricks can be hidden from everyone."
He paused, and then when he said the last few words, his tone became calmer, as calm as if he came up from a very deep place, "At the same time, I also want to confirm Rhaenyra's attitude again."
He turned around and his eyes fell on Mesalia's face.
Mesalia lowered her head slightly under his gaze, her posture was respectful and docile, but her eyelashes trembled imperceptibly when his gaze swept across her.
"Will she think that I am here to support her, or will she think that I am here to cause trouble for her? This is a question she needs to figure out now, and it is also a choice she must make on her own."
Mesalia's mouth opened slightly, as if she wanted to say something, but in the end she just nodded.
She knew what Redd meant and why Redd said these words in front of her.
He doesn't need her advice and opinions, he just needs an audience to confirm the weight of the decision he is about to make.
"Should His Highness's ship be prepared? Or should we just fly there on a dragon?" Her voice became smooth and professional again, as if she was dealing with a daily official business. "If you are riding a dragon, it is recommended to set off in the evening."
The visibility at dusk is best for the defenders above King's Landing, but if His Highness wants to show strength, it won't be a big deal."
Redd said nothing. He turned around again, with his back to Mesalia, and his eyes fell on the sea in the distance, on the clouds that were constantly changing their shapes, and on the gray-white line that was slowly moving between the sea and the sky.
"Ride a dragon." He said, "We set off in the evening and go straight into the city when we arrive. There is no need to inform, ask for instructions, or wait for anyone's permission."
Mesalia bowed slightly and was about to turn around and leave when she heard the voice of Redd coming from the direction of the window sill again.
"By the way, let Douglas prepare Dragonstone's fleet. There is no need for them to go to sea. You only need to let them park in the port and hang up the flags so that people on the island can see them and the merchant ships passing by can also see them."
The corners of Mesalia's mouth raised slightly. "Your Highness, are you going to knock the mountain to shake the tiger?"
"Knock on the mountain to shake the tiger." Redd repeated the word, and raised the corner of his mouth slightly, but without a smile, "Show the people over there at King's Landing how powerful the island is and how close it is to them.
If anyone plans to play any tricks on me, they should first consider whether the cards in their hand are strong enough."
He turned around and walked towards the door of the study, his pace was calm and calm, but deep in those black eyes, something was burning slowly and steadily - it was flame, it was magma, it was the fire where destruction and rebirth coexisted, death and hope were one and the same.