King’s Landing was one of the most prosperous cities in Westeros and the capital of the Targaryen dynasty.
On the fifteenth day of every month, countless impoverished commoners would enter the city in the hope of receiving the provisions distributed by the king twice a month as part of his “penance for his eldest son.” For many of them, those rations were the only thing keeping their families fed.
“Roar—!”
High above King’s Landing, the golden Syrax swept rapidly over Flea Bottom, heading toward the Dragonpit.
“It’s the princess’s dragon!
The princess is back!”
The sight was hardly unusual to the people of King’s Landing.
As the capital of the Targaryen dynasty, the occasional dragon flying overhead was simply a part of everyday life.
“How are you holding up, Baelon?” Rhaenyra asked with concern.
“Sister, can we sleep first and then go see Father?”
Baelon was exhausted and drowsy, and his voice grew quieter with every word.
He could not deny that flying on dragonback was thrilling, but surely it was unreasonable to let him rest for only three hours before spending the entire day flying!
Rhaenyra spoke with a trace of guilt.
“It’s because I wanted to get you home as quickly as possible.
Once we’re in King’s Landing, it doesn’t matter whether they’re Hightowers or Greens.
They can all get out of our way!”
“Roar—!”
Syrax slightly turned her head as though answering Rhaenyra.
“All right, all right, you win.
Let’s land already.”
Baelon closed his eyes and answered perfunctorily.
Rhaenyra gave a soft little snort before urging Syrax toward the Dragonpit.
A few minutes later, the golden dragon reached the entrance, where the dragonkeepers guided her inside.
Syrax slowly crawled deeper into the Dragonpit to rest.
The dragonkeepers, were mostly descendants of Valyrians who had served House Targaryen for generations.
They were fluent in High Valyrian and responsible for the dragons’ daily care, including feeding and tending to them.
“Prepare enough sheep for my dragon,” Rhaenyra ordered.
“Yes, Princess,” one of the dragonkeepers replied respectfully.
Before long, a luxurious carriage came to a halt beside the road.
A white-cloaked knight had been waiting there for some time.
“Princess, welcome home.
However, the king is quite angry that you left King’s Landing without telling him.”
The speaker was one of the Kingsguard, Ser Erryk Cargyll.
At the same time, Erryk noticed the golden-and-silver-haired little boy standing beside the princess.
The child looked utterly exhausted.
“My younger brother, the eldest son of King Viserys I, the future and only heir to the Iron Throne, Prince Baelon Targaryen.”
Rhaenyra introduced him proudly.
The moment Erryk heard the boy’s identity, he dismounted from his white horse and hurried over.
He bowed respectfully before Baelon.
“Welcome back to King’s Landing, Your Highness.
I am Ser Erryk of the Kingsguard.”
“Thank you, Ser Erryk.”
Baelon forced himself to summon a little energy and replied in his usual calm manner.
After exchanging a few pleasantries, Baelon and Rhaenyra climbed into the royal carriage and prepared to return to the Red Keep from the Street of the Silent Sisters.
As they passed through Flea Bottom, Rhaenyra took the opportunity to give Baelon a brief overview of the Red Keep’s size and layout.
Baelon struggled to remain awake as he listened to his sister’s explanation, comparing every detail with the plans of the Red Keep he had already constructed in his mind.
When they finally returned to the Red Keep, Rhaenyra suggested that Baelon change into fresh clothes so that he could meet their father, Viserys, in the best possible condition.
Baelon immediately refused.
“Sister, let’s go see Father first.”
“I imagine he, along with the members of the Small Council, will be very eager to meet the king’s eldest son after six years without seeing me.”
Baelon’s voice was perfectly calm, but Rhaenyra had spent more time with him than anyone else.
She knew exactly what that expression meant.
“All right, all right.
I’ll listen to you.”
Rhaenyra took Baelon by the hand and led him straight toward the Small Council chamber.
Inside, King Viserys, now in his thirties, was speaking amiably with each of the members of his Small Council.
He was widely regarded by both his lords and the common people as a king whose kindness and mercy were matched by few.
Such a reputation was exceedingly rare among the rulers of the Targaryen dynasty.
Yet at that moment, the king’s expression was anything but pleasant as he listened to the report from Corlys Velaryon, the Sea Snake.
“Four ships have been attacked.
The last of them flew my own banner.”
“The Stepstones have become a grave threat to the realm, and you are still sitting here arguing over trivial matters of court!”
The Sea Snake’s voice was filled with anger as he challenged the king.
“If you have an important matter to report, Lord Corlys, His Grace will surely—” Otto began.
Corlys had no patience for his empty words and interrupted him directly.
“I want to know what is to be done about my ships and my men.”
Otto calmly replied, “It is very simple, Lord Corlys.
The crown will compensate you for your ships and your losses, and appropriate compensation will be paid to the families of the dead.”
“I don’t want compensation!”
Corlys turned toward Viserys.
“I want the crown to conquer the Stepstones by force and burn that Crabfeeder to ashes!”
“Throughout the history of the realm, no king has ever dared go to war with the Free Cities.
I do not wish to be the first.”
Viserys was a kind and merciful king.
He hated war with all his heart and had no desire to plunge the realm into unnecessary bloodshed during his reign.
“But a man’s ambition and greed do not disappear simply because there is peace, Father.
They only grow worse.”
Baelon was leaning against the door, having heard the entirety of his father’s argument with the Sea Snake.
“You agree with the Sea Snake?”
Rhaenyra looked somewhat surprised.
Like her father Viserys, she disliked war and believed that it brought nothing but suffering and misery.
Baelon shook his head.
“I’m merely looking at the matter objectively.”
“The Stepstones are an extremely important port.
Westeros lies to the west, while the Free Cities lie to the east.”
“Whoever controls the Stepstones can collect countless tolls from the ships passing through them.”
“Baelon, you’re only six years old.
How did you manage to analyze all of this?”
Rhaenyra was genuinely astonished by Baelon’s abilities.
“Read more books and study more maps.
Then, Sister, perhaps you’ll become as knowledgeable and learned as I am.”
Baelon was clearly very proud of his own learning.
His judgment and knowledge told him that the more he understood about this world, the more easily he could place himself in an unbeatable position.
“Baelon, our family already produced one learned dragonless man in Vaegon.
I certainly don’t want you becoming a second one.”
Rhaenyra spoke seriously.
Vaegon was the fourth son of their great-grandfather, Jaehaerys I.
He had little interest in riding dragons and even less interest in spending time with his brothers and sisters.
All he wanted was to remain in the dull Citadel, buried in books.
“How could I?
I only read to pass the time.”
Baelon smiled as he explained.
“Regardless, you need to read fewer books from now on.
I’m doing this for your own good!”
Rhaenyra stubbornly insisted.
Baelon knew better than to argue with her.
He could only nod repeatedly in agreement.
Before long, the argument in the Small Council chamber came to an end.
The Sea Snake had suffered a crushing defeat and stormed out of the chamber in anger.
Rhaenyra and Baelon seized the opportunity to enter.
“Father, I’m back.”
Viserys frowned.
The anger in his voice was impossible to hide.
“My dear daughter, do you have any idea how worried you made me when you left King’s Landing without saying a word?”
“Now, return to your place as my cupbearer.
We are about to discuss the royal hunt.”
Rhaenyra smiled and took a step backward, pushing Baelon gently forward until he stood before her.
“Father…”
Baelon looked at the king.
“Do you still remember me, My Grace?”
His smile was extremely forced, while the exhaustion in both his voice and expression was impossible to conceal.