Before leaving the Dragonpit, Rhaenyra gathered the crowd once more.
“Today’s reward is not the last.
If you serve well, there will not only be fine wine and good food, but silver stags and gold dragons.
As princess, I never break my word.
It all depends on your loyalty.” “Long live the princess!” “Princess, rest assured.
I will not fail in my duties!” The crowd stirred.
Nearly two hundred men and women, large and small, raised their voices with renewed vigor.
Rhaenyra cast a glance of approval at Arryk Waters, who had called out the loudest.
She nodded with satisfaction and turned to leave.
Behind her, unseen by the princess, Criston Cole glanced back with a displeased look at the young man.
Arryk Waters was still basking in Rhaenyra’s attention when one of his companions nudged him, gesturing toward the knight’s warning glare.
By the time he snapped out of it, Rhaenyra was already far away.
As she walked, Rhaenyra reviewed her actions.
She let out a long breath, pleased with how the Dragonpit visit had gone.
Hearts and minds did not win themselves.
If you did not reach out, they would never come to you.
A reputation as a merciful princess was far better than being remembered as “Maegor’s teats,” the mocking name the smallfolk would one day give her predecessor.
Maegor, after all, had been one of the most infamous tyrants in Targaryen history.
Being kind to the people was also Rhaenyra’s genuine wish.
She understood clearly that if she wanted to survive, if she wanted to be queen, cruelty and tyranny would not be the path.
The Dragonpit was also a backup plan.
If all else failed, she could always take to the skies on Syrax and flee.
That was why she had devoted so much care to the Dragonpit.
And she had further plans for it.
Once she held full power, she would establish a Dragon Affairs Bureau to oversee the royal dragons.
Anyone who wanted to claim a dragon egg, raise a hatchling, or tame an elder dragon would need her approval!
Think about it: dragons were the emperor’s elite guard, the most elite of all.
Since when did an emperor hand over his finest troops to other royal family members?
Uncles, aunts, cousins, half-brothers, all wanting to ride dragons against her?
She would make sure their applications got lost in bureaucratic limbo for years!
That, of course, was a matter for the future.
Rhaenyra coveted the dragons in the pit, but for now, she could only build good relations with the people and beasts there.
A rider could bond with only one dragon.
If only she could tame more…
Then she alone would be an army.
Who would dare oppose her?
“Princess?” Elly’s voice cut through her reverie, concern flickering in her eyes at Rhaenyra’s distant, dreamy expression.
Rhaenyra snapped back to reality and dabbed at the corner of her mouth, where no drool had actually gathered.
“Elly, part of today’s rewards will come from the princess’s allowance.
The rest will come from my private treasury.” The Red Keep allocated a generous allowance to the princess, after all, she was the king’s only living child.
The finances of King’s Landing and the Crownlands primarily served the affairs of the Seven Kingdoms and the crown, administered by the Master of Coin.
Tournaments, military defenses, all fell under his purview.
Of the seven kingdoms of Westeros, only the Crownlands answered directly to the crown.
The other realms, the North under the Starks, the Westerlands under the Lannisters, and so on, paid taxes to the crown but kept the remainder to govern their own lands and enrich their houses.
The Lannisters of the Westerlands were famously wealthy, and the Reach was not to be underestimated either.
When the crown faced bankruptcy, they would often appoint a lord from one of the wealthier regions as Hand.
The princess’s allowance came from a portion of the Crownlands’ revenues and the Kingswood, disbursed by the royal chamberlain, outside the Master of Coin’s jurisdiction.
In addition, Rhaenyra owned a grain store at a King’s Landing port and an inn in the city, inherited from her mother, the late queen.
When she was ten, her uncle Daemon Targaryen had offered her a gambling den, but she had refused it.
Even so, the minor lord who ran it sent half the annual proceeds to the Red Keep.
Her maternal grandfather, Lord Rodrik Arryn of the Eyrie, and her uncle had both passed away, and her cousin Jeyne now ruled.
Though she and Rhaenyra were not particularly close, the Eyrie sent an annual shipment of Vale specialties, wheat, pumpkins, cardamom, and gold dragons, to the queen, and Rhaenyra received a share.
That was the entirety of Rhaenyra’s private treasury.
Elly had always managed these accounts.
There was another handmaiden, Yelena, but Rhaenyra had never paid much attention to her finances before.
Now, she would need to ensure all her servants were trustworthy.
She decided to keep Yelena at arm’s length for the time being.
Elly understood the arrangement without further explanation.
Rhaenyra nodded approvingly.
It was good to have someone she had grown up with by her side.
The old Rhaenyra had never noticed the talent around her, but now she would carefully select those worthy of her trust.
Today’s rewards had cost little, but the future would require more: bribes and gifts for the smallfolk, knights, and soldiers of King’s Landing.
She needed to prepare in advance.
For now, her mother had just passed.
The succession remained unresolved.
King’s Landing was not yet hers.
She would have to wait for the right moment.
Elly, for her part, took Rhaenyra’s actions in stride.
She had always known the princess to have a mind of her own.
Whatever Rhaenyra commanded, Elly obeyed.
Criston Cole, who had witnessed the entire affair, was privately astonished.
The princess was no longer the carefree, innocent girl he remembered.
She now seemed like a creature of politics.
The handsome knight frowned, but then reminded himself that the queen’s death must have been hard on Rhaenyra.
She was growing up, forced to mature by grief.
His concern softened once more into sympathy.
Rhaenyra, of course, had no idea what the knight behind her was thinking.
Even if she had, she would not have cared.
I just want to survive!
Who wants to be eaten by a dragon?
As she walked through the city, Rhaenyra looked around.
King’s Landing had grown safer under her uncle Daemon’s harsh rule, but it still appeared filthy, chaotic, and squalid.
A stench hung in the air, thick and cloying.
Not even the seasonal winds from the harbor could disperse it.
The streets were crowded.
People poured out of Flea Bottom and filed into septs.
Others haggled at markets over goods brought from outside the city walls.
For now, King’s Landing was peaceful enough, but Flea Bottom still teemed with paupers.
Ragged figures lurked among the crowds, and pickpockets slipped through, lifting purses from unsuspecting merchants.
The guards walking ahead shouted for the commoners to clear the way.
Rhaenyra immediately called them off.
When the people recognized the princess, they bowed.
Rhaenyra greeted them with warmth and instructed the soldiers not to harass the passersby.
Cheers rose from the crowd.
Commoners and merchants alike came forward to pay their respects.
Rhaenyra let out a soft sigh.
Sometimes, a ruler did not need to be wise or brilliant.
Merely showing kindness was enough to earn the people’s acclaim.
In this age, when lords towered above commoners, she felt there was so much more she could do.
She noticed the city’s drifters, young men without clear purpose.
Some were from merchant families.
Others were urban poor, tied to the city’s life but without land or noble birth.
Nobles did not rely on these city folk; they had their own castles and serfs.
Rhaenyra considered the future.
When war came, refugees would flood the city.
These ordinary people would have no way to feed themselves or their families.
King’s Landing was prosperous, but it was a fragile bubble.
No wonder the city would descend into chaos during the later conflicts.
If she took control of King’s Landing, she would need to restructure its economy and improve productivity.
Otherwise, any ambitious schemer could light a spark, and the Red Keep would fall.
There were noble spies in the city, secret cults lurking in the shadows, and the ever-present threat of the poor turning to violence.
So many problems!
After walking through the city, Rhaenyra felt her head spinning with all the tasks ahead.