In the hall.
"What… do you mean?" Rhaenyra asked softly.
"The plain meaning." Corlys set down the wine jug. "They are no longer your children, Rhaenyra Targaryen, but my grandsons, the lawful sons of Laenor Velaryon."
"Their name is Velaryon. Their inheritance lies on Driftmark, no longer the Iron Throne."
Daemon's eyes lit up. He had not expected Corlys to make such a sacrifice.
Given the present situation, it would be fortune enough if they did not turn upon one another.
Rhaenyra fell into thought, her gaze flickering. "But they… their looks…"
"There have been those of different hair within House Velaryon," Corlys said evenly.
"So long as I, the Lord of Driftmark and head of House Velaryon, yet live and openly proclaim them Laenor's lawful sons, none among the house will dare question it."
"At the same time, I have already spoken to part of the house of my intent, and they are in accord."
"Of course, the condition is that you, Rhaenyra, are willing to pay the price."
"What price?"
"I would have you swear it by the blood of Targaryen and by the Seven."
Rhaenyra did not swear in haste. She watched Corlys in silence.
Corlys spoke each word with care. "First, once the betrothal of Jacaerys and Helaena Targaryen is fulfilled, their heir must wed a maiden of House Velaryon, so that the blood of Velaryon may return."
Rhaenyra frowned but said nothing. This was better than sending Jacaerys to the Wall.
"Second," Corlys continued, "your son Aegon, the future heir to the Iron Throne, must also take a Velaryon bride."
Rhaenyra did not object.
He fixed his gaze upon the two who stood in silence. "And third… their dragons."
Daemon cut in, "What do you mean? Those three hatchlings?"
The hall fell silent once more.
Corlys leaned back slowly in his chair. "If there is not sufficient return, then however fond I may be of Jacaerys and the others, I cannot continue to stake all upon them."
"Rhaenyra, Daemon—you both know what I seek."
Rhaenyra drew in a sharp breath and looked at him. "You want those three children… and the three dragons?"
Corlys no longer concealed his ambition. Coldly, he said, "Four, including Helaena's Dreamfyre."
"When you become queen, they shall all belong to Velaryon."
"House Velaryon will bear all for you, Rhaenyra. This is the return we demand."
Daemon closed his eyes.
This was the most crucial and the most perilous step.
Dragons were the very foundation of Targaryen power. For a thousand years, never had a house of non-Targaryen blood been formally permitted to possess dragons.
Even if the Velaryons bore Valyrian blood, even if they had long intermarried with the Targaryens, so that their descendants temporarily possessed the blood to ride dragons—
Even so, that was but borrowed.
Now Corlys demanded sovereignty over four dragons: three hatchlings and one full-grown great dragon, Dreamfyre.
And four bloodlines capable of riding dragons…
It was difficult to imagine to what heights House Velaryon might rise in the years to come.
Daemon opened his eyes. "Do you know what this means?"
"It means House Velaryon will become the second most powerful force in the Seven Kingdoms," Corlys replied evenly. "It means that any who would move against Driftmark must first weigh the wrath of four dragons."
"And it also means… that Targaryen will no longer hold a monopoly upon the power of dragons."
Corlys paused. "But you may rest assured—if you agree, I shall have all within my house swear a blood oath that the descendants of Velaryon shall never usurp the Targaryen throne."
"The aim of our house lies with the Triarchy upon the eastern continent. We shall remain vassals beneath Targaryen, and in time become kin…"
Hearing Corlys lay bare his true thoughts, Daemon at the side gave a short, humorless laugh.
"My lord, you dream grandly indeed—would you take such advantage of House Targaryen?"
"I have only spoken plainly what I desire." Corlys turned to Rhaenyra. "This is the best course."
"The blood within Velaryon that may one day ride dragons shall descend from you."
"I am also willing for Velaryon to become a branch of Targaryen… rather than remain as we are now—mere vassals…"
"When Jacaerys and the others are grown, I may rely upon dragons and a vast fleet to crush the Triarchy."
"Velaryon shall take Lys, Tyrosh, and Myr—those Free Cities."
"Your sons will become kings there. Of course, they must bear the name Velaryon."
"In this way, you may name Aegon as your heir, and none shall question your succession. All shall be lawful; your crown secured, and Velaryon receive its due recompense."
"We have shed enough blood for the Iron Throne. It is time we reclaimed something in return."
Rhaenyra walked to the window and gazed toward the dark edge of the Dragonmont.
Upon the Dragonmont, Jacaerys was playing closely with his hatchling, Vermax.
Her eldest son—the child who, since boyhood, had awkwardly sought to comfort her whenever she was troubled.
The boy who, after losing an eye, had grown only more resolute…
If she agreed, he would become heir to Velaryon, Lord of Driftmark, yet forfeit his claim to continue toward the Iron Throne.
House Targaryen would lose possession of four dragons…
But if she refused…
She thought of the letters of rebuke her father Viserys had sent through the years, of the nobles' scornful barbs laced with mockery—and of Alicent's triumphant smile.
And there was Daemon's warning—that these children might one day be left to the mercy of others…
"I…" Rhaenyra's voice trembled. "I need some time to consider."
"Rhaenyra, you have no time left." Corlys rose to his feet. "Lord Boremund's naming feast is in five days."
"The lords of the Stormlands, the Reach, and the Crownlands will all be in attendance."
"Rhaenyra, if you cannot give me your answer before the feast, I shall take it that you have chosen the other path."
"And House Velaryon will have no choice but to reconsider its stance."
Daemon narrowed his eyes. "Are you threatening us?"
"I merely offer the best course, Prince Daemon."
"So long as you agree, even in such a situation, Velaryon will still stake itself upon Rhaenyra."
"Surely you would not have us pay so dear a price and take nothing in return?"
He strode toward the door, pausing upon the threshold. He looked back at Daemon. "Daemon Targaryen, you owe my son his life. You owe House Velaryon an answer."
"If this renewed alliance succeeds, our debts are settled."
The door closed. His footsteps faded.
Only the crackle of the hearth and the moan of sea wind through the stone windows remained in the hall.
Daemon walked behind Rhaenyra and set his hands gently upon her shoulders.
This time she did not shrug him off. In a low voice, she said, "This is the best choice."
"At least the children will live. They will have rightful standing, and a fair future."
"These children all bear my blood… Now that Targaryens are few, our Aegon will one day need the support of these kin."
"Just as Aegon the Conqueror created House Baratheon, I too am creating a new branch of kin."
Seeing that Rhaenyra meant to agree, Daemon spoke in urgency. "Velaryon has its own legacy!"
"When Aegon the Conqueror raised that Targaryen bastard, Orys Baratheon, he did not grant him a dragon!"
"And now you would give Velaryon sovereignty over four dragons! This may change everything!"
"Have you considered that harmony may last only for these few generations—but what of those to come?"
"We may be fashioning, with our own hands, a rival to Targaryen—a house equally able to command dragons."
Rhaenyra shook her head.
"I do not care for the future. I care for the present."
She clasped Daemon's hand tightly and looked at him.
"Daemon, you will help me, will you not?"
Hesitation and uncertainty crossed Daemon's face.
Mad though he might be, even he felt that in this moment he could not match the recklessness of his wife, Rhaenyra.
"Daemon… I beg you. Help me."
"If even you will not stand with me, then what is to become of our children…?"
At last, Daemon clenched his jaw and gave a tight nod.
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