Baelon took the note and read it carefully.
?!
What did it mean…
Rhaenyra and Ser Cole were openly fooling around in the Godswood?!
And Ser Harrold caught them?!
For heaven’s sake, couldn’t you at least find somewhere private?!
Baelon calmly finished dealing with matters at the factory before setting out for the Red Keep.
Along the way, he instructed the knight who had brought him the message, “Arthor, continue purchasing grain from across the Narrow Sea.
“You can also send men to the Riverlands to buy a moderate amount. Just be careful not to drive up grain prices.”
Arthor Celtigar removed his helmet, revealing the youthful face of a man around twenty years old.
Silvery-gold hair and violet eyes.
Arthor Celtigar was the second son of Bartimos Celtigar, Lord of Claw Isle.
Like the Velaryons, House Celtigar was one of House Targaryen’s oldest allies, as well as one of the four great houses that had first rallied behind Aegon the Conqueror.
They had certainly earned their place through service to the dragons.
And yet…
To this day, they were still tucked away on Claw Isle!
Perhaps Westerosi customs were simply different from those of Britain as he had known it in his previous life.
The royal family seemed naturally reluctant to elevate new nobles.
Arthor’s expression turned solemn as he nodded firmly.
“I understand, Prince.”
In this world, food was the foundation of everything.
As for whether Baelon, by stockpiling grain without frantically raising armies, might simply end up becoming someone else’s granary…
Baelon: …
He nearly burst out laughing.
To avoid congestion, he took the longer route along the riverfront and entered King’s Landing through the King’s Gate.
He skirted the foot of Visenya’s Hill, passed through Hook Alley, and made his way to Aegon’s High Hill.
The Red Keep stood atop Aegon’s High Hill.
From his squire, Baelon learned that Viserys and Rhaenyra were in the King’s Tower and had already been alone together for some time.
Baelon exhaled.
Fine.
Baelon, family mediator, reporting for duty.
Then he suddenly remembered something.
After quietly giving Ser Uther an instruction, he hurried toward Viserys’s bedchamber.
Ser Uther nodded, gestured with one hand, and led fifteen knights away in the opposite direction.
Before Baelon could reach Viserys’s bedchamber, however, he encountered Lyonel Strong.
“Prince Baelon!”
“Lord Lyonel.” Baelon stopped and returned the greeting with a nod before continuing forward.
“Prince, I have something important to tell you!” Lyonel stepped into his path, urgency in his voice.
Baelon stopped.
He knew Lyonel well enough to understand that the man was normally reserved and never one to speak without good reason.
As for Rhaenyra’s romantic scandal?
That was hardly a serious matter.
Viserys was no Jaehaerys.
Even if he learned about Rhaenyra and Ser Cole, he would never send his daughter away to become a Septa.
In truth, even if the rumors spread across all Seven Kingdoms, they would still mean little to her.
Her father was Viserys I, and her father loved her.
And she rode a she-dragon.
Dragons, power, succession, and self-interest.
All of them unquestionably outweighed chastity and honor.
Rhaenyra would suffer no real harm from this.
The only person truly affected was Ser Cole.
He had broken his vows and stained the honor of the Kingsguard.
At worst, Viserys and Rhaenyra were bound to have a fierce quarrel.
That was why Baelon had spent the entire journey back expecting nothing more than to serve as a mediator once he reached the Red Keep.
But now Lyonel had come looking for him.
Anyone could tell that whatever Lyonel had to say was more important.
Viserys and Rhaenyra were only having an argument.
“What happened?”
Baelon composed his face into a calm expression, trying to make himself look a little more mature.
“The fate of the Seven Kingdoms and the lives of countless people now hang upon your words, Prince.” Lyonel Strong’s expression was grave.
The two moved to a secluded open space and made certain no one was close enough to overhear them.
Lyonel immediately told him everything that had happened that day.
Baelon’s expression grew steadily darker.
Viserys had suddenly been seized by ambition, as though possessed by Aegon the Conqueror himself, and had decided to wage war against Dorne?!
What was he thinking?
Did the fleet assembled by the “Triarchy” around the Stepstones simply not exist?!
Or was he planning to fight a full-scale war on two fronts at once?!
More importantly…
Baelon frowned deeply.
“This is terrible.”
Lyonel breathed a sigh of relief.
So Prince Baelon was on his side!
Just as expected of the “Merciful” Prince Baelon.
As long as the prince was willing to dissuade the king, peace in Westeros could still be preserved.
Baelon immediately pressed him.
“What do we do if the Dornish refuse battle again?!”
Just as the Yellow Toad had dealt with Aegon the Conqueror.
Had Aegon faced any meaningful resistance during his conquest of Dorne?
No.
He had seized Dornish territory with ease.
He took Skyreach by storm, captured Yronwood after a siege, and claimed Tor without even fighting a battle.
As for Wyl, Sunspear, and Ghost Hill…
Those had been easier still.
He had not even encountered a Dornish army!
At Sunspear, Aegon received the Dornish nobles, declared Dorne part of the unified realm, and announced that he would rule it as king.
Not a single person present had objected. This chapter was taken from g.com without permission.
Everything had gone almost frighteningly smoothly.
But once Aegon left, Dorne erupted in revolt.
Lyonel: That wasn’t right.
Why was he already thinking about how to deal with Dorne?!
The smile that had barely begun to form on Lyonel’s face froze.
A terrible premonition rose within him.
Then he heard the gentle voice of the “Merciful” Prince Baelon.
“The Dornish will not submit easily. Is Father prepared to kill every Dornish noble?”
W-what?
Lyonel could scarcely believe his ears.
Kill every Dornish noble?!
He stared at Baelon in horror, regarding him with an expression he had never worn before.
“Ahem.” Baelon’s eyes shifted awkwardly aside.
It seemed the people of Westeros were not especially receptive to the idea of destroying an enemy root and branch.
He immediately tried to explain himself.
“Once, Meria Martell declared to Queen Dowager Visenya that she would sooner see all her subjects dead than allow them to become slaves to the Targaryens.”
“Visenya promised to grant her that wish.” Baelon clenched a fist and struck it against his chest.
“For Queen Dowager Visenya, and for Aegon the Conqueror, I am willing to fulfill the promise of our ancestors.”
Nothing showed on Baelon’s face, but inwardly his astonishment was endless.
Who would have thought Viserys would suddenly decide, without the slightest warning, to start a war?
Baelon folded his arms.
He had originally intended to spend some time developing industry first, then begin a massive reconstruction of the old districts of King’s Landing.
At the very least, once he had enough money, he could tear down Flea Bottom.
A whole mass of poor people with nothing to their names, living closer to the Dragonpit than anyone else.
Far too dangerous.
Better to turn them into displaced residents and corrupt them with money and prosperity.
Unfortunately, events never unfolded according to Baelon’s plans.
Circumstances shifted quietly in the background, only to suddenly spring some enormous disaster on him the moment he stopped paying attention.
Chaotic and utterly unpredictable.
He had assumed that if war came, Westeros would first go to war over the Stepstones.
Instead, one sudden decision from Viserys had brought war with Dorne to their doorstep.
Baelon’s original plan had been to travel to Dragonstone when he turned seven and tame a dragon.
But now it seemed that plans truly could not keep pace with change.
His journey to Dragonstone would have to be moved forward.
Baelon was genuinely baffled.
He had not even been away for a full day.
How had everything suddenly turned into this?
There was no doubt about it.
He was being bullied!
Viserys and Rhaenyra.
The two of them had secretly held a magnificent bout of Targaryen madness inside the Red Keep.
And guess who had not been invited?
Him and Daemon.
He and Daemon had been left out.