On the morning the Small Council convened, inside the king's study in the Tower of Maegor.
King Viserys I sat at the head of the long table.
Aemond stood one step to his father's side, his gaze calmly sweeping across the faces on both sides of the table.
These people were the core that now kept the Seven Kingdoms running.
Hand of the King Otto Hightower sat in the first seat to the king's left.
Opposite Otto sat Master of Coin Lyman Beesbury. The old man, already past fifty, hailed from House Beesbury of the Reach.
Beside Lyman sat Master of Laws Jasper Wylde, a balding, slightly stout nobleman.
Master of Whisperers Larys Strong sat midway along the table. Known to men as "the Clubfoot," he was leisurely sipping the wine in his cup.
But when Aemond's gaze passed over him, Larys lifted his eyes slightly and met the prince's look, a courteous smile on his lips.
Aemond looked at the cripple and sneered inwardly.
This was the Lord of Harrenhal—Larys Strong.
A year ago, his father, Lord Lyonel Strong of Harrenhal, had still been the Hand of the King.
His elder brother, Harwin Strong, had been Princess Rhaenyra's lover—the true father of those three bastards.
House Strong had also been a steadfast supporter of the Blacks.
But a sudden fire had consumed Harrenhal. The old lord and his eldest son Harwin both perished, and the second son, Larys, smoothly inherited the lordship.
And soon after, under the promotion of Otto Hightower—newly returned to the office of Hand—he entered the Small Council as Master of Whisperers.
Ruthless enough, Aemond thought.
Kinslayer and fratricide. He had removed the Blacks' most important pillar on the council, inherited Harrenhal for himself, and cleared the path for Otto's return as Hand.
Now House Strong had already turned to the Greens.
Master of Ships Tyland Lannister sat opposite Larys. The brother of the Lord of the Westerlands, he was around forty years of age.
Yet among the men under his command in the royal fleet, more than half had been won over by the former Master of Ships, the "Sea Snake" Corlys.
A Master of Ships stripped of real authority.
Lord Commander Ser Criston Cole of the Kingsguard stood not far from the doors.
Grand Maester Mellos sat at the end of the long table. As a scholar, he was always prepared to offer counsel to the king.
"Let us begin," Viserys broke the silence in the chamber.
The Hand spoke first. "Your Grace, first regarding the cultivation of the Crownlands…"
The meeting ground on in dull fashion.
Taxes, grain reserves, road repairs, disputes among the Crownlands' lords…
Trivial yet tangled affairs of state came surging toward the Small Council like an endless tide, wave after wave.
Aemond stood in silence, occasionally handing his father documents that required signing, or offering him a cup of warm water mixed with honey when Viserys coughed.
"…Therefore, I propose reducing the mill tax on the south bank of the Blackwater Rush by thirty percent, to encourage more farmers to reclaim wasteland." Lyman Beesbury finished his long-winded report and looked up at the king.
Viserys rubbed his temple and nodded wearily. "So be it. Anything else?"
"Your Grace," Lyman hesitated, his gaze shifting to Aemond. "There is one more matter… Prince Aemond came to me yesterday and applied to draw one hundred thousand gold dragons from the treasury."
The council chamber fell silent in an instant.
All eyes turned to Aemond. One hundred thousand gold dragons was no small sum—enough to equip a thousand elite troops, or to build a medium-sized castle.
Viserys also turned his head, curiosity in his eyes rather than reproach. "Aemond? What do you need so much coin for?"
Aemond met his father's gaze and explained, "I want to expand the estate you granted me, Father."
"It lies close to the Kingswood, and the terrain is excellent, but the existing buildings are far too crude. I plan to build a castle there."
Aemond said it lightly, but Hand of the King Otto knew well enough.
Not long ago, Aemond had indeed demanded fifty thousand gold dragons through Ser Kade, the Hightowers' man in King's Landing.
After that, his riverside estate began recruiting workers. More than five hundred men were already laboring there, including experienced stonemasons, carpenters, and blacksmiths.
House Hightower had also, at Aemond's request, sent several knights to be stationed there, to train those men.
He was building his own power base, and Otto was pleased to see it.
"A castle…" Viserys mused.
His eyes grew somewhat complicated as he looked at this second son, but then he thought of the son who could master two dragons…
The king raised his head and looked to the Master of Coin. "Lyman, then allocate two hundred thousand gold dragons."
"Two hundred thousand?!" Old Lyman Beesbury nearly sprang out of his chair.
"Your Grace! This… this is far too generous! The treasury may be full, but an expenditure of this size must be weighed with caution!"
"King Jaehaerys and Your Grace's decades of accumulation amount to only a little over three million gold dragons in reserve—taking two hundred thousand at once—"
Hearing the Master of Coin's attempt to push back, Viserys cut him off coldly. "Aemond is my son."
"How can this coin be called generous?"
"My son needs a castle worthy of his station."
"And this land will become his domain as well."
He paused, his gaze sweeping over the long table. "As for his current lands, their extent could be expanded somewhat…"
The moment those words fell, the entire council was shaken.
An independent domain? That meant Aemond would no longer be merely a prince, but a lord with his own lands, troops, and fiscal authority.
Hand of the King Otto Hightower did not speak, clearly avoiding any appearance of partiality.
Master of Laws Jasper Wylde spoke up at once. "Your Grace is wise! Prince Aemond is exceptionally gifted and truly worthy of such an honor."
Master of Whisperers Larys Strong gently set down his cup and added with a smile, "Your Grace, this will also strengthen the royal family's power around King's Landing."
Master of Ships Tyland Lannister hesitated for a moment, then nodded as well. "I also support Your Grace's decision."
Grand Maester Mellos frowned slightly. It was plain enough that Viserys was indulging Prince Aemond too much, but he did not voice an opinion on the matter.
Only Lyman Beesbury objected. "Your Grace, even if lands are to be granted, due consideration is required."
"The area near the Kingswood is indeed royal land, but it has long served as a royal hunting ground. If it is granted as Prince Aemond's domain, what of the other members of the royal family?"
"Other members of the royal family?" Viserys' voice suddenly turned cold. "My eldest son Aegon is on Driftmark, my eldest daughter Rhaenyra has Dragonstone, and my youngest son Daeron is with House Hightower."
"Aemond is the only child at my side. If I grant him lands near King's Landing, what is wrong with that?"
He did not allow Lyman to say another word and declared his decision. "My mind is made up. The riverside estate and the surrounding lands, extending roughly thirty miles, shall be designated as Aemond's domain."
"Thank you for the reward you have bestowed, Your Grace," Aemond said, bowing and offering his thanks sincerely.
Hearing this, Viserys turned to him and asked, "As for your domain—have you decided what it will be called?"
Aemond smiled and replied, "Then I ask that Your Grace grant it a name."
"Very well," the king said. "Let it be called Dragon's Roost. Lyman, allocate two hundred thousand gold dragons from the treasury for the castle's construction."
"Otto, and Jasper as well—draft the formal writs. Inform the Seven Kingdoms and establish Aemond's lordship over Dragon's Roost."
At this, Aemond smiled as he looked toward the Master of Coin, Lyman Beesbury.
Even His Grace favors me now.
Everyone on the Small Council is on my side.
What do you have to contend with me?
And he had Rhaenyra to thank as well—she, the named heir of the realm, burdened by her long-standing enmity with Queen Alicent.
And the rumors of bastards, and those biting, mocking whispers about her.
Because of all that, she could not bear it. She lingered day after day between Dragonstone and Driftmark, rather than remaining in King's Landing, at the king's side.
Sensing the prince's gaze upon him, Lyman felt a measure of helplessness.
Aemond himself had not expected matters to proceed so smoothly. Two hundred thousand gold dragons, together with the fifty thousand obtained from House Hightower, would suffice for the time being.
Dragon's Roost… the name was acceptable enough.
The council fell into silence. There seemed to be nothing further to discuss.
Viserys looked around at the assembled councillors. "Is there anything else? If not, we will conclude for today—"
"Your Grace," Hand of the King Otto Hightower spoke up suddenly. "There is one more matter."
"The envoys of the Three Cities Alliance have been waiting for some time. You agreed yesterday to receive them."
Viserys paused, then said, "My memory fails me… I nearly forgot. Let them enter."
Otto nodded toward Ser Cole, who stood at the door.
Cole pushed the doors open and announced to the hall, "By order of the king—the envoys of the Three Cities Alliance!"
Outside, the sound of footsteps drew nearer, approaching from afar.
---
I will post some extra Chapters in Patreon, you can check it out. >> patreon.com/TitoVillar
---