New chapter is live.
Settle in, take your time, and let’s see what waits in the dark 🖤 ✦ The man hurried in, visibly alarmed.
He crossed quickly to Viserys and handed over a letter.
Aelor studied him openly.
The man had blond hair combed neatly back and a well-groomed beard.
He looked polished, proper, and every inch a courtier.
Viserys took the letter and read it, frowning.
“A plea for aid?
That does not sound like something Daemon would do.” Tyland Lannister inclined his head and sighed.
“The letter was sent by Ser Vaemond Velaryon, the Sea Snake’s brother.” “I knew it.” Viserys smiled knowingly.
“That arrogant bastard would never write to me himself, brother or not.” He soon finished reading.
The change in his expression was slight but clear.
He looked over the lords in attendance.
“The war in the Stepstones has reached a stalemate.
The fool they call the Crabfeeder refuses open battle, and Daemon and Corlys are pinned in place.” The lords exchanged glances and began offering advice.
It amounted to two choices: send troops to support them, or sit back and let Daemon and the Sea Snake’s forces fail.
Viserys pinched the bridge of his nose, headache settling in.
He hated war.
This war over the Stepstones had been started by Corlys, who had urged Daemon into acting without the crown’s command.
Now that they were trapped, they had written to him for aid.
Was he supposed to clean up the mess for men who had ignored their king?
“Rhaenyra, take your brother out,” Viserys said at last, kissing Aelor’s forehead before passing him to his daughter.
“This discussion will not end quickly, and I do not want him tired.” Knowing the matter was complicated, Rhaenyra did not object.
She took Aelor by the hand and led him from the chamber.
Outside the council room, the siblings stopped before a tall window in the corridor.
Rhaenyra looked through the colored glass and asked, “Do you think Uncle Daemon can defeat the Crabfeeder?” “Dear sister,” Aelor said, glancing down at himself, barely high enough to reach her hip, “your younger brother has only just turned six.” After a brief silence, Rhaenyra slapped a hand to her forehead, defeated by her own foolishness.
“I am an idiot.
I keep treating you like a little adult and forget you may not even know who the Crabfeeder is.” “If I had not heard Uncle Daemon call me the one-day heir, I might not even know I had an uncle.” Rhaenyra had no answer to that.
Aelor tilted his head and said quietly, “I noticed that Father is missing two fingers.” “He is ill.
The Grand Maester has been treating him.” Rhaenyra stroked the top of his head, answering in a soothing voice.
She thought Father’s wound had frightened him.
Aelor only looked at her.
Then he caught her hand as she ruffled his hair, pinched a tender bit of skin between two fingernails, and squeezed hard.
“Ah!
What are you doing?
That hurts!” Rhaenyra snatched her hand back.
A red mark rose across the back of it, thin and beaded with blood.
Under his sister’s angry stare, Aelor said seriously, “A tiny cut made you cry out.
Father has lost two fingers, and perhaps there are other wounds on his body.” He paused, then continued, “He is the king.
He cannot weep.
He cannot show weakness.” “As his children, what we should think about is not a war one man started on his own, but how to become strong enough to help our father.” Rhaenyra stared at him, then pointed at her brother and stammered, “You…
you just told me you were six, and now you turn around and lecture me?” Aelor answered as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
“Age limits what I have seen.
Books sharpen what I can understand.” “Sister, you should read more.
Do not spend all day riding dragons and brooding over every rumor.” Aelor made a grand show of trying to pat Rhaenyra on the shoulder.
Sadly, even on tiptoe, he could not reach.
He settled for patting her slender waist instead.
Then he turned and walked away with great dignity.
Rhaenyra stood frozen in the corridor for a long time.
Only when a cold draft passed through did she snap awake.
In the next moment, her roar echoed down the entire hall.
“Aelor!
How dare you disrespect your own sister?
Prepare to face the wrath of a sleeping dragon!” Two days later, a lavish wheelhouse rolled along the road toward the Kingswood, followed by lines of guards and attendants.
Inside the broad carriage sat the king’s family.
Viserys sat in the center.
Queen Alicent and Rhaenyra sat facing one another on either side.
Beside Alicent sat Aegon and Helaena, and in the queen’s arms was a baby.
Naturally, Aelor sat beside his sister, bored as he watched the baby.
“So small,” he muttered under his breath.
“And when he cries, he does it as if his life depends on it.
Terrifying.” He made a face at the baby.
Alicent smiled as kindly as ever.
“Aemond is not used to the carriage yet.
He has been crying terribly.” Viserys laughed.
“A cry that strong means he will grow into a brave warrior.” Alicent smiled sweetly and brought the baby toward Aelor.
“Would you like to hold him?” “I can try.” Aelor took baby Aemond under both arms and let him flail and kick while he held him up for a little while.
Well.
He had to admit, there was something amusing about it.
In the years to come, if Aemond ever turned those teeth on him, Aelor would be ready.
The corner of his mouth lifted as he imagined teaching Aemond a lesson one day.
Before long, Aemond had suffered enough and returned crying to his mother’s embrace.
Viserys watched the scene, and the tension that had creased his brow in recent days eased.
His wife beside him.
A fine carriage beneath him.
His children gathered around him.
What could be better?
Noticing his father’s good mood, Aelor chose the moment carefully.
“Father, is that Blackfyre beside you?
Aegon the Conqueror’s sword?” Viserys smiled and lifted the sheathed longsword beside him, pride plain on his face.
“It is.
Blackfyre, the symbol of royal power.
The Conqueror carried it through the wars that brought six of the Seven Kingdoms beneath his rule.” “May I see it?” Aelor’s eyes shone as he looked at Blackfyre.
Viserys started to hand the sword over, then stopped midway.
Looking at Aelor’s frail body, he said regretfully, “Not yet.
Blackfyre is a blade steeped in blood.
You must be older before you can hold it.” “I want to try.” It was an inherited sword whose age and history could rival Balerion’s skull.
Aelor did not want to let it pass.
Viserys shook his head, set Blackfyre back in place, and refused.
Aelor lowered his head in visible disappointment.
“If you want to see a sharp blade, this will serve.” Unable to bear his eldest son’s unhappiness, Viserys unfastened a dragonbone-handled dagger from his belt and tossed it to Aelor with a mysterious smile.
Aelor caught it in a clumsy rush and looked at his father in confusion.
Viserys smiled.
“This dagger once belonged to Aegon the Conqueror as well.
Before him, it belonged to Aenar.” “Oh.
That is old enough.” Aelor sounded properly impressed and drew the dagger from its sheath.
Steel flashed.
The blade came free like a streak of cold light.
Aelor narrowed his eyes slightly.
The dagger was etched with delicate patterns, and both its material and workmanship were flawless.
“Is that Valyrian steel?” Rhaenyra asked, drawn in at once by the blade.
Viserys nodded.
“Things passed down by our ancestors always have their own wonders.” At the same time, the system’s voice sounded beside Aelor’s ear.
[Explorer System] Lost relic detected.
Trace magical residue detected.
Scanning automatically…
“Magic?” Aelor’s spirit sharpened.
The system spoke again.
Scan complete.
Relic identified: Aegon’s dagger, bearer of the Song of Ice and Fire.
Begin exploration?
✦ ✦ ✦ Want to keep going?
I hope this chapter gave you another reason to stay with the story.
There’s still plenty ahead, and things are only starting to unfold.