The next day,
A large Lysian ship sailed out of the Mud Gate. Its sails were adorned with three red dragons, and they rustled in the wind.
Daemon stood on the dock, gazing at the ship as it receded. He whispered, "Brother, are you still so hard-hearted?"
"No!"
Viserys shook his head and replied solemnly, "I am trying to right a wrong.
"More than atonement, I want the chance to start over."
Daemon's face hardened, and he turned and walked back in a gloomy manner.
He looked furious.
Viserys, with a complex look in his eyes, refused the cloak offered by the Kingsguard and returned to the White Wheel.
It was Daemon's mistress and bastard son who were sent away.
This time, Daemon was honest and sent them back to Lys without any trouble.
But beneath this calmness, he always sensed a deeper rift.
At the city gate,
Aemon stood on the parapet, watching the two men.
"Uncle is still too indecisive."
If he had suggested it last night, things wouldn't be so awkward now.
Laena stood by his side, gently soothing him. "Dissolving an engagement is no small matter. The king may have his reasons."
"Daemon made a wrong bet this time."
Aemon didn't want to argue; he simply stated the facts.
Daemon thought that returning home with his family in prosperity would win back his brother's favor and give him a chance to start over.
However, his brother had long lost patience with him and was perhaps seeking petty revenge for Daemon's past.
He was unwilling to grant his wish.
Laena sighed softly and placed a hand on Aemon's shoulder.
She knew the real reason Aemon had gone to the king last night.
The ultimate purpose of the proposal was to test the king's true intentions.
As it turned out,
Viserys couldn't bring himself to harm Daemon. Unable to swallow his anger, Viserys agreed to Daemon's dissolution and embraced his actions.
"Actually, I agree with Daemon getting a divorce and remarrying."
Aemon turned and leaned his back against the parapet with a look of resignation on his face.
He had already achieved a crushing victory by force.
Vermithor led the battle, accompanied by Silverwing and Gray Shadow.
Vhagar and Meleys were also on his side.
Daemon could only offer one "Bloodworm," Caraxes, and even a one-on-one duel with Vermithor was uncertain.
At best, he could have a few children and hatch a few dragonlings in ten years.
That wouldn't be enough. Direct warfare was just a toy for the adult dragons.
This advantageous situation allowed Daemon to establish a new family and expand his lineage, which would definitely outweigh the risks.
The worst that could happen if the conflict proved too great was that the father would be killed and the son would remain.
Aemon would naturally inherit Lys and control his half-brothers.
The Targaryens were few in number, and their bloodline needed to be strengthened.
Furthermore, dragons were scarce.
Including the family's unowned, wild, and young dragons, there were barely thirteen.
Even after Aenar the Exile migrated to Dragonstone, the family had only five dragons, compared to the mid- and lower-ranking Dragon Lords of old Valyria.
The current Targaryens were undoubtedly stronger, rivaling the mid-ranking Dragon Lords.
However, the situation required a rational assessment based on context.
Old Valyria once boasted forty Dragon Lords. Understandably, the Targaryens could not compete with the other Dragon Lords, and their lack of development was unacceptable.
Now that Old Valyria has fallen, the Targaryens are the only remaining Dragon Lords.
There's no competitive pressure or existential crisis.
The family's dragons shouldn't be so scarce.
They need to hatch the eggs and cash in on the newborns.
"You're a step behind Rhaenyra,"
Aemon said with a sudden smile, pinching Laena's slightly bulging belly.
The emerald skirt fit her figure, accentuating her curves.
"Aemon!"
Laena snapped, slapping away the mischievous hand and blushing, which was rare for her. She was so angry!
It was midday.
The sky was perfectly clear and brilliantly blue with drifting white clouds.
From Maegor's Holdfast, one could occasionally spot a flock of seabirds circling the domed dragon's lair and forming various formations.
"Prince Qoren Martell wishes to claim the Iron Throne and arrange a marriage between his eldest daughter, Alexandra Martell, and a member of the royal family,"
Taelan reported cautiously during the royal council meeting.
"Have you agreed?"
Viserys frowned and leaned back in his chair, ready to accuse Taelan.
Taelan winced and chuckled. "Prince Qoren is very enthusiastic. It's really impossible to refuse."
"How can a Dornishman with such ambitions be worthy of my son?"
Viserys sneered.
The ministers remained calm and discussed the matter one by one.
After all, they weren't marrying a foreign princess, so there was no need to worry about saving face.
The prince's marriage was a win-win for us.
"Uh, here we go again,"
Aemon slumped in his chair, listening wearily to the back-and-forth.
He had just finished discussing the transformation of Slaver's Bay and was exhausted.
In a sense, he had abandoned Slaver's Bay.
Slaver's Bay was a mixed bag of city-states.
Astapor and the newly rising New Ghis—two of the three great slave city-states—were his staunch supporters, and they followed his orders without question.
However, Meereen's passive liberation left its people unstable.
Even if the slave owners were slaughtered, many of the common people, nostalgic for slavery, would secretly cause trouble.
Fortunately, the Dothraki received sufficient compensation and spared the Meereenese civilians, harboring no deep hatred.
The liberated slaves were deeply grateful to Aemon, the Breaker of Chains.
However, Aemon discerned Meereen's deep-seated problems from subtle details.
Slavery was ingrained, the population was overcrowded, and jobs were scarce.
Properly governing Meereen would require at least ten years of painstaking effort.
Clearly, Aemon was unwilling to waste his energy on Meereen, which was thousands of miles from home.
After achieving several significant goals—retrieving the dragon egg, pacifying the civilians, freeing the slaves, and sending the Dothraki away—he withdrew from Meereen.
Astapor was governed by a small council, with Meereen acting as its proxy.
Neither Aemon nor the Dothraki wanted a city-state, so the small council's rule over Meereen was a desirable outcome.
However, Aemon believed this rule would be short-lived.
Once Meereen's problems became apparent, a wave of independence would inevitably ignite, ending foreign rule.
Then, Slaver's Bay would once again see the three city-states checking and balancing each other.
The difference was that Astapor would become a free-trading city-state, while Meereen would be mired in internal conflict.
The liberated slaves were unwilling to return to enslavement, yet without new options, their survival was uncertain.
Ultimately, they veered from one extreme to another.
Yunkai remained a slave city-state, sandwiched between two liberated city-states.
Aemon could have liberated Yunkai, too, but it wasn't necessary.
A slave-based Yunkai was the only useful Yunkai. After all, they were all liberated. Without anyone to compare themselves to, who would remember the prince's kindness?
They were all liberated. There were too many liberated slaves, with over half starving. Rather than reminiscing about the good times when they were beaten and scolded by their owners, the slaves denigrated the prince who had liberated them.
Why bother? Things were good as they were.
The two liberated city-states were hostile toward the slave city of Yunkai, and Meereen was at odds with Astapor, creating a three-way confrontation.
Once Slaver's Bay was depleted, Aemon, the revered Breaker of Chains, would raise his hand, and Slaver's Bay would fall into his arms.
Then, he would have a child. He would arrange for his heir to govern the city-states and easily reclaim Valyria's homeland.
"Having promised Qoren Martell, which of my sons should marry a Dornish woman?"
Viserys argued with his ministers while Aemon acted out.
From what he said, it was clear that he genuinely disdained the Dornish.
Lyonel hesitated for a moment, then bravely said, "Aegon is the eldest prince and might be a good choice."
A marriage could resolve the war, so why wouldn't Viserys agree? Besides, Prince Aegon wasn't the heir.
Viserys flew into a rage, his eyes wide open, ready to curse.
"I agree with Lord Lyonel."
Otto raised his hand, his expression relaxed and his heart brimming with satisfaction.
Rhaenyra's succession was a foregone conclusion, and the Hightowers alone couldn't change that.
Securing a powerful foreign ally for his grandson would be a remarkable feat indeed.
"Dorne is so appealing to you?"
Viserys's face flushed and his fingers trembled as he turned to survey the other ministers' expressions.
Needless to say, the Sea Snake was one of the instigators of this usurpation.
Leaning back in his chair, he remained unafraid of the king's sullen gaze.
Grand Maester Melos and Otto were wearing the same trousers.
With his head drooping, he feigned death, his eyes fixed on his nose, his nose on his heart.
Only Linman furrowed his forehead and muttered, "I hear Dornish women are promiscuous before marriage. They might not be good matches."
Viserys felt relieved, but it had no real effect.
Most of the ministers present supported the marriage, believing it would maximize benefits.
"If all else fails, Aemond is also a good choice," Otto suggested. "Aemond and Alexandra are a better match in terms of age."
Viserys remained silent, his refusal evident.
"A second son is still a son!"
"Your Majesty..."
Lyonel began, about to persuade him.
Knock, knock, knock—
The hall door rang, and a Kingsguard entered.
"Your Majesty, Prince Daemon has departed on his dragon."
Startled by this news, Viserys asked, "Where could he have gone?"
The Kingsguard hesitated, then confirmed, "Judging by the direction he flew, it seems to be the Vale."
Heading to the Vale meant traveling north, which was clearly different from the eastward journey to Dragonstone and Lys.
"When did he leave?"
Viserys's mind flashed with shock.
Bang!
Elsewhere, Aemon slammed the table, leaped to his feet, and rushed out the door with a murderous look in his eyes.
Daemon!
If my mother loses a hair, I will kill you.
"The dragon handlers are coming from the dragon pits, which means Prince Daemon has been away for some time."
Intimidated by the prince's aggressive tone, the Kingsguard quickly specified the details.
Aemon rushed down the stairs, heading straight for the dragon pits.
"Aemon."
Viserys stared at his nephew's back, stunned.
The next day, dawn broke.
As the sun rose, a massive bronze dragon blocked out the sunlight and circled over Runestone City in the Vale.
With a rumble—
—Vermithor folded his wings and landed with a thud.
Aemon, anxious, leaped from the dragon's back, stomping a deep pit in the grass with his toes.
Man and dragon flew for a day and a night without resting.
He dared not slow down.
Daemon's pride had only been vaguely understood in the past.
Now, with Daemon pushed to this point, who could guarantee that he wouldn't do anything?
"Hiss... Gah!"
Suddenly, a sharp hissing sound emanated from outside Runestone City.
Aemon turned sharply.
Beneath the thick, moss-covered walls, Caraxes craned his neck in his direction.
Caraxes recognized him.
His eyes seemed to say, "I let you touch them when we were little."
Aemon's heart sank. He hadn't expected Daemon to be one step ahead of him.
"Your Highness."
"Your Highness..."
Aemon entered the Runestone City gates. The old men in the castle saw him and greeted him from a distance.
This gesture reassured him slightly.
The appearance of peace meant that Daemon hadn't shown hostility upon his arrival. It was better than the charred corpses he had encountered earlier.
As he neared the chimney-like castle, Aemon remained silent, his hands resting on the hilts of the Lady of the Void and the Lament.
The guards clicked crisply and slightly unsheathed their blades.
Since neither side had dragons, they could have a show of skill.
It might even prevent a dragon fight.
"Your Highness."
The guard noticed him and was about to open the gate.
Just then, the gate swung open.
A spacious hall was revealed, and a figure stormed out.
"Daemon!"
Aemon shouted, rushing forward.
Daemon was startled by the shout. Seeing who was approaching, he frowned and asked, "Why are you here?"
"I should ask you that question,"
Aemon replied, his face cold as he unsheathed his swords.
"Boy, don't be impulsive."
Daemon glanced at him, his expression calm but his tone impatient.
He'd had enough of the humiliation today.
"I'll take you down, and then we'll get to the bottom of this."
Aemon didn't have time for any more nonsense.
"Damn it! What's wrong with you?"
Daemon cursed, gripping the Dark Sister, his family sword, at his waist.
The three Valyrian steel blades gleamed coldly, ready to clash and spark.
"Stop!"
A sudden, delicate cry interrupted the impending fight.
Aemon looked over, surprised. "Mother?"
Lady Rhea appeared in the doorway, her brows furrowed as she looked the two silver-haired men over with the same disdain.
"Are you all right, Mother?"
Aemon checked to make sure they were unharmed.
"What do you think?"
Lady Rhea folded her arms in disgust and pointed a finger at Daemon. "He had the nerve to threaten me in Runestone City."
"As long as you're all right,"
Aemon retracted his blade and chuckled.
"Idiot!"
Daemon's face darkened as he sheathed his sword and tried to leave again.
Aemon's smile vanished, and he raised his sword to block his way.
"How could I let you go without explaining things clearly?"
He looked up at his mother, his eyes asking what had happened.
"He came to discuss a divorce with me."
Lady Rhea remained calm, her words dripping with sarcasm. "If it were possible, I would have wanted to do so long ago, and I would have gladly introduced him to a sheep from the Vale."
That meant the negotiations had fallen through.
Aemon guessed what was going on.
Lady Rhea gave a direct answer: "Years ago, I repeatedly filed for divorce on the grounds of widowhood, but the king always found excuses to reject them."
Queen Alysanne had drafted the Widow's Law, which amended some marriage laws.
Infidelity and abandonment by the original wife were permitted, but most women couldn't survive without their husbands, so these were rare exceptions.
Upon hearing this, Aemon felt completely relieved and dismissed the "Lady of the Void" that had been blocking his path.
Daemon had come to seek a divorce, nothing more.
"Let him go."
Lady Rhea turned her head away, indicating that she didn't want to see Daemon.
At the same time, she breathed a sigh of relief.
Only God knew the immense pressure she had been under.
Daemon had married and had children in Lys, but the king refused to acknowledge his subsequent marriage, citing his original wife.
Under these circumstances, there was only one way for Daemon to give his wife and children legal status.
She gave up her position.
The king wouldn't agree to a divorce, so...
Lady Rhea's expression shifted. Her hands, clasped together, clenched lightly; a thin layer of sweat formed on her palms.
The moment she saw the slender, snake-like, scarlet dragon, she had Jansif thrust into the tomb.
Her mind and body were constantly on edge. Even when Daemon broke down and was about to leave, she didn't let up at all.
Only when she saw her son's face did her heart settle down.
"No problem,"
Aemon nodded gently.
Daemon snorted dismissively, not wanting to argue with the "bronze bitch."
Aemon raised his hand again to stop him and simply asked, "Have you eaten?"
Daemon glanced at him, not knowing what to say.
"I'm hungry. Let's eat together?"
Aemon looked him straight in the face.
This was only the second time the three of them had been together.
The last time was when they first met Daemon.
Although his mother and Daemon had a rocky relationship, she had made a good impression on him.
This reunion left him with a new appreciation.
He had actually learned to negotiate with his most hated wife.
Aemon wanted to talk to him.
If only he could talk.
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