The faint morning light, like molten gold, gently spilled onto Hela's stern scales.
Ramon had just tightened the leather strap and was about to hang "Breaking Sky" on his waist when his gaze was drawn to the scene outside the window—the manor gate was filled with luxurious carriages, and the councilors' distinctive ornate feathered hats flickered in and out of view in the morning mist.
"Your Highness!" Daemon pushed open the door, his voice clearly excited, "Half of the Elephant Party councilors are blocking the entrance! They hope to be received by you and are shouting to pledge their loyalty to you!"
Ramon subtly scanned the glittering, bustling scene downstairs, pondering to himself. He had expected it to be the Tiger Party, trying to sound him out through Daemon, who was from the Tiger Party. He never thought the Elephant Party would be the first to lose their patience, so eagerly placing their bets.
"Have Roman write down their names," he habitually rubbed his chin, "Tell them I will see them after I return from the Tiger Party manor, after I've finished my business there."
Turning to pick up "Breaking Sky," he looked at the deep purple gem on the scabbard. His voice lowered, as if speaking to Daemon, yet more like he was clarifying his own thoughts: "Coming to pledge allegiance now? Heh... too soon. They are merely testing the waters. The strength of your family and Hela are far from enough to truly subdue these slippery, cunning old foxes. For them to come so early to pledge allegiance..." A hint of mockery played on his lips, "They just want to turn me into their puppet, a living target, like the Sea King of Braavos... merely a consumable."
"You are right, Your Highness!" Daemon immediately bowed, "The Merryweather family will always be your most loyal followers..."
"I know, and I have always trusted you..." Ramon's gaze meaningfully swept over Daemon, but his thoughts had already turned to the unspeakable bond. After awakening the bloodline contract with "Black Lightning," the Merryweather family indeed had no room for betrayal whatsoever.
Unless... they were willing to risk the entire family dying out. Valyrian core blood magic had always been so domineering and unparalleled, and it was performed using precious dragon corpses as a medium. How many people could "enjoy" this treatment? One must know... it also bestowed the blessing of procreation... each dragon litter could consistently produce 5 dragon eggs...
Daemon was still nervously chattering, emphasizing how heavily guarded the Tiger Party manor was. Ramon, however, simply put on a comfortable commoner's outfit, hung "Breaking Sky" on his belt, and casually ordered, "Today, let's ride horses there, so we don't scare those old geezers into wetting their pants."
Daemon dared not delay, calling upon his two sons and a full ten of the Merryweather family's most formidable warriors to accompany them.
The procession moved through the streets, the damp cobblestones reflecting their silent and grim figures. A child peered out from the roadside, exclaiming in surprise, "Look, a Dragon Knight!" Before the words were out, his terrified mother clapped a hand over his mouth and forcibly dragged him deep into a dark alley, where they disappeared.
The gate of the Tiger Party manor was surprisingly open. Seven Tiger Party councilors stood on the high steps, like a set of statues. The one leading them was a tall, thin old man, nervously twirling his silver beard. His scarlet robe was exaggeratedly embroidered with a ferocious tiger head pattern, and his deeply set old eyes gleamed with undisguised calculation and naked greed.
"Can we really get the dragon eggs? That kid is as slippery as an eel. I think we'll have to... he won't compromise that easily..."
"Hmph, it's not up to him whether he agrees or not. We can take that Targaryen bitch's life anytime! Unless he's crazy enough not to care about anything..."
"Kill her?! Aren't you afraid of retaliation from the old king on the Iron Throne? No matter how angry he is, she's his daughter, and the only one still alive right now... If she decides to drag us down with her before she dies... who can stop him?"
"Why rush to act? What if that kid agrees? Who would refuse a crown that's within reach? Just like those escaped slaves in Braavos, everyone knows the Sea King is a consumable, yet they still elbow their way in to run for election and die..."
"Enough!" The tall, thin old man interrupted, his voice rough like sandpaper, "More talk is useless! We have archers and three hundred elite armored soldiers ambushed inside. If we're quick enough, it'll be enough to finish off that bastard before the dragon arrives! Then... maybe we can try to tame an adult dragon... Our ancestors were also descendants of Dragon Kings, they just didn't get dragons. Now the opportunity is right in front of us... we can't back down for anything."
A low chuckle, a mix of fantasy and ambition, rippled through the crowd.
Ramon dismounted with practiced ease, his boot casually kicking a lone pebble by his foot, and turned to Daemon, asking, "Daemon, is my memory still good? Excluding those who have already privately expressed their willingness to submit... there are still nine councilors in the Tiger Party, including yourself, right? Oh right... now excluding you, there are eight. Why are there only seven here?"
Daemon quickly moved a few steps closer, his voice low and urgent: "Your Highness, the absent one... he is very close to Princess Saenira... he actually wants to get close to you too, it's just... he's afraid you might mind some things, so..." His words suddenly became hesitant.
This sentence pricked Ramon like a needle, making him feel awkward, discussing his own mother's messy love life with his subordinate...
"Oh?" Ramon's voice suddenly stiffened, "Is it the father of my newly born little sister, or the father of that annoying Joffrey Thorne?"
Daemon lowered his head, silent for a long time, a look of extreme conflict crossing his face before he spoke with difficulty: "It's... it's Joffrey Thorne's father. As for the father of your biological sister..." He secretly glanced up at Ramon's profile, and his words got stuck in his throat again.
Ramon slowly turned his head, his gaze fixed on Daemon, who was full of embarrassment and inexplicable panic. After a moment of scrutiny, an absurd yet clear answer seemed to emerge from the other's discomfited expression.
"Heh..." Ramon let out a short, emotionless laugh, "Alright. Her affairs, I'm too lazy to bother with them now. As for you..." He stopped mid-sentence, a hint of indescribable helplessness crossing his face, "Never mind, we're all adults... everyone has their own 'abilities.'" He lightly shook the reins, as if to shake off some unpleasant thought.
"My deepest gratitude! Your Highness is merciful!" Daemon, as if granted a great pardon, hastily wiped the sweat that instantly beaded on his forehead with his sleeve, cursing inwardly: "You horny fool! Why couldn't you control your damn lower half back then!"