On the final night of the royal hunt, King Viserys personally raised his cup and announced to all those gathered that, under the blessing of the King of the Forest, the White Hart, his eldest son Baelon had fully recovered.
To dispel any remaining doubts, Viserys summoned two of the most respected maesters in attendance and had them personally confirm his words.
This was more than a joyous announcement.
It was also a warning to every noble with designs of their own.
The position of heir to the Iron Throne would belong to Baelon Targaryen, and Baelon Targaryen alone.
During the feast, Prince Baelon sat in the first place to the king’s right, receiving the congratulations and blessings of the assembled nobles.
After several rounds of wine, Baelon could no longer tolerate the mixture of perfume and alcohol hanging in the air.
He quietly excused himself and went outside the encampment, settling beneath a tree to rest.
“Your Highness, allow me to congratulate you.
Your position as heir is now as secure as the mountains themselves.”
Larys Strong approached, leaning upon his cane, and offered the prince his most sincere congratulations.
Baelon held his glass and took an unhurried sip of grape juice.
“I accept your congratulations, Ser Larys.”
“I remember that your skills in interrogation are quite exceptional.
The Street of the Flea Bottom in King’s Landing has produced no shortage of criminals lately.
I shall suggest to Father that you be appointed as an interrogator.”
“Thank you very much, Your Highness.”
Larys’s voice trembled with excitement.
“In return, I shall provide you with intelligence from every corner of the Stepstones as proof of my loyalty and trust.”
With that, Larys immediately threw himself into the work that awaited him.
Baelon leaned against the tree trunk, his fingers lightly tapping against his glass.
He understood perfectly well that Larys was an extremely capable man, and an ambitious one besides.
But so what?
A person without ambition or desire was like a hard, foul-smelling stone.
There was nothing interesting about such a person.
Larys, however, was different.
Once he believed that he had found someone powerful enough to serve as his patron and began climbing toward greater heights, he would eventually understand one simple truth:
Personal loyalty must always come before one’s own ambition and desires.
…
After the royal hunt ended, Viserys returned to King’s Landing with his family.
Without question, the greatest beneficiary of the hunt had been Prince Baelon, whose health had been restored.
Westeros was a realm where strength mattered.
The king’s eldest son and heir to the Iron Throne could not merely be a learned scholar.
He had to be accomplished in both letters and arms.
Viserys took this extremely seriously.
He specifically ordered Ser Harrold Westerling, Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, and the highly skilled Ser Criston Cole to train Baelon systematically.
For the next month, apart from the essentials of reading, eating, and sleeping, nearly all of Baelon’s remaining time was spent training with weapons.
Rhaenyra did not have it much easier.
Viserys punished her by requiring her to continue serving as cupbearer while also seriously studying the history of Westeros.
For that purpose, Viserys specifically assigned two highly respected maesters to personally instruct her.
And so the siblings were kept busy from morning until night, barely finding time to see each other except during meals.
…
A month and a half later.
The Small Council convened as usual.
The matter before them was simple:
Should the crown send troops to support the war in the Stepstones and enter open conflict with the Triarchy?
Besides King Viserys and the members of his Small Council, both his eldest son and eldest daughter were present.
Rhaenyra needed no explanation.
She was already serving as cupbearer.
Baelon, as the king’s eldest son, had been granted an exception and was permitted to attend as the second cupbearer.
Strictly speaking, his presence was somewhat unconventional.
But he was the king’s firstborn son and the future heir of House Targaryen.
There was nothing unreasonable about Viserys allowing him to sit in on matters of state.
For once, the members of the Small Council did not unanimously object.
“Very well.
Let us begin.”
Viserys sat at the head of the table and formally opened the council.
Lord Tyland Lannister, the Master of Ships, was the first to rise.
“Your Grace, according to the latest reports from the Stepstones, we currently have sixteen to eighteen warships capable of putting to sea, seven hundred soldiers, and approximately sixteen knights.”
“Our provisions are being consumed rapidly.
Even if we supplement our supplies by fishing, it will not solve our immediate difficulties.”
“House Velaryon has appealed to Your Grace for assistance and asks that the crown immediately send forces to resolve the war in the Stepstones.”
Viserys’s expression remained calm.
He turned toward Otto, the Master of Whisperers.
“Apart from their request for royal assistance, what intelligence have we received from House Velaryon?”
Otto answered respectfully.
“Your Grace, Lord Corlys has already called upon his own family for reinforcements.
Their additional warships will not be able to reach the Stepstones for at least another two weeks.”
“However, the combined forces of Prince Daemon and Lord Corlys have already been reduced to little more than a leaf trembling in the wind.
Their position could collapse at any moment.”
At once, Lord Lyonel Strong, the Hand of the King, rose to offer his recommendation.
“Your Grace, this war has continued for far too long.
It is time for the crown to send troops and settle the matter in the Stepstones.”
Lord Lyman Beesbury, the Master of Coin, rose after him.
“Your Grace, I agree with the Hand.”
“Now that House Velaryon has decided to send its own fleet in support, the crown cannot afford to fall behind.” The source of this chapter is g.com.
Both men were loyal to House Targaryen.
Lord Lyman Beesbury in particular had served the crown faithfully since the days of King Jaehaerys I.
Otto placed both hands upon the table and calmly challenged them.
“If the realm commits its forces to the fighting, the Triarchy and Dorne on our southern border will undoubtedly resist us with everything they have.”
“It would be wiser to seek peace with the Triarchy and temporarily abandon the Stepstones.”
Grand Maester Mellos, the Master of Laws, sided with Otto.
“Your Grace, I agree with Lord Otto.”
“If the Triarchy and Dorne enter the war, our position will become extremely difficult.”
A simple discussion before the Small Council was enough to send the factions supporting war and peace into open conflict.
The council chamber instantly became a battlefield of arguments.
Viserys frowned deeply, seemingly struggling to decide which path the realm should take.
Rhaenyra stood quietly to one side, dutifully pouring wine for the councilors.
She had grown accustomed to this.
Perhaps it was more accurate to say that this was what the Small Council was like every day.
Arguments and opposing opinions had become the normal state of affairs.
Baelon sat quietly nearby, silently committing the arguments and positions of both sides to memory.
Half an hour later, the Small Council finally came to an end.
King Viserys accepted Lord Lyonel’s recommendation and decided to send troops to support the war in the Stepstones.
Lord Lyonel personally wrote to Prince Daemon, informing him that ten royal warships and seven hundred soldiers would be dispatched to the Stepstones as quickly as possible.
The councilors left the chamber one after another.
Only the exhausted King Viserys remained behind, drinking wine as he attempted to soothe his troubled mind.
“Father, you should drink less.
Too much wine isn’t good for your health.”
Baelon approached and gently patted Viserys on the back like a concerned adult.
Viserys smiled and lowered his wine cup.
He placed one hand upon Baelon’s shoulder.
“My child, after listening to today’s Small Council, what did you understand?
What did you make of it?”
Baelon did not answer immediately.
He thought carefully for a moment before giving his father an answer that was far sharper than Viserys expected.
“I don’t think the war will end even if you send troops to support the Stepstones.”
Viserys was genuinely surprised.
He looked at his eldest son with obvious excitement.
“Why do you think that?”
Baelon pointed toward the map spread across the table.
“The Stepstones occupy an extremely important geographical position.”
“Whoever controls them can collect an incalculable amount of revenue from the ports.
More importantly, they can effectively contain both the Triarchy and Dorne.”
“Therefore, even if this particular war ends, their attacks and harassment against the realm will not.”