South of King’s Landing, deep within the Kingswood.
At this moment, in a wide clearing at the center of the Kingswood, hundreds upon hundreds of tents were neatly arranged in rows; the size of the tents varied, with those closer to the center being larger and more luxurious, while various family banners fluttered in the wind, silently demarcating the hierarchy of the nobility of the Seven Kingdoms.
At the very center was naturally the three-headed red dragon on a black field banner of House Targaryen, and immediately adjacent to the royal tents were naturally the ducal houses and several of the most prominent noble houses, among which were House Lannister, House Baratheon, House Tyrell, and House Hightower.
Although House Hightower was not a ducal house, it possessed Oldtown, the wealthiest city in Westeros, and its power was no less than that of any duke.
Furthermore, The Citadel and the Starry Sept were also in Oldtown; to say that these two largest organizations in the Seven Kingdoms had nothing to do with House Hightower was something probably no one would believe.
Sunlight filtered through the curtains, shining into the royal tent, which was as spacious as a castle hall.
At this moment, the enormous tent was packed to capacity, with nobles of all sizes rubbing shoulders, treading upon exquisite carpets from Myr beneath their feet, as if they were walking among the clouds.
Dozens of exquisitely dressed attendants stood scattered about, holding trays filled with goblets.
Inside the tent were placed exquisite wooden tables, uniformly covered with damask tablecloths of various colors from Myr, upon which sat delicate vases filled with fresh flowers.
Young and beautiful maidservants walked lightly among the long tables, serving various delicacies from all over the realm onto the tables.
Bacon-wrapped roast trout, roast swan stuffed with oysters, honey-glazed ham, creamed quail, garlic-honey snails, various fresh fruits, and countless exquisitely shaped pastries.
This was a hunting celebration held by Viserys I to celebrate the second nameday of his eldest son, Aegon Targaryen.
Soon, a prepared Viserys appeared on the high platform.
He was the fifth king of House Targaryen, dressed at this time in luxurious black leather attire, with the banner of House Targaryen on his chest, a head of iconic silver-gold hair, and a slightly stout body, known as the “Young King”.
Some nobles off the platform pretended to casually glance at the King’s left hand.
Viserys was wearing black leather gloves on his left hand at the moment because it had once been cut by the Iron Throne, and the maesters were helpless against it.
To prevent the rot from spreading further, the maesters ultimately had to amputate his pinky and ring fingers, which was why the nobles often whispered among themselves in private.
When Viserys finished his speech and sat back down upon the throne, the nobles present offered warm applause one after another.
Attendants walked steadily among the various nobles, handing goblets to each lord one by one, and then all the nobles raised their goblets high and congratulated in unison:
“To His Majesty the King!”
“To Prince Aegon!”
The grand banquet was also officially declared open.
A striking figure slowly threaded through the crowd, giving one a sense of being out of place here; it was none other than Rhaenyra, the Princess of Dragonstone and heir to the Iron Throne at this time.
Because of Aegon’s birth, she had gradually felt her status as heir being shaken, especially since her father Viserys was celebrating Aegon’s second nameday so extravagantly, which made her feel all the more that Viserys wanted to replace her as heir, and furthermore, those nobles, big and small, actually strongly supported Viserys in replacing the heir.
Thinking of this, Rhaenyra felt even more vexed, and as she walked and walked, she arrived at the pavilion where Queen Alicent was located.
This was a small circle enclosed by thin gauze, where Queen Alicent and a group of noble ladies were chatting leisurely, the conversation gradually turning to the war on The Stepstones.
A plump noble lady whispered her insights: “Lady Lannister, my husband once said that no one can tame The Stepstones for long; it is a desolate place fit only for pirates to survive.”
“Lady Hightower, although The Stepstones are desolate, they are the only strait connecting the Narrow Sea and the Summer Sea; whoever can control this place can possess endless wealth simply by collecting tolls.”
Lady Lannister was an elderly woman with white hair and a dignified, graceful demeanor.
“The premise is that they must win first; the Triarchy is not your ordinary band of pirates, and this time Prince Daemon and the others are likely to run into trouble, and perhaps even drag us down with them!”
The one speaking was none other than Lady Redwyne from the Arbor.
Ever since the end of the Conquest, House Tyrell had re-carved a piece of territory in The Reach to grant to House Redwyne.
After more than a hundred years of development, House Redwyne had rebuilt its own castle there—the Arbor—and relied on its heritage to recover its vitality once again, though compared to before, there was still a huge gap.
Rhaenyra, standing nearby, was just about to open her mouth to mock Lady Redwyne when beside Alicent, a delicately carved and jade-like beautiful young girl suddenly stood up.
She wore a pure white long dress, her silver-gold long hair bound behind her head by a silver circlet crown, and around her neck she wore an exquisite Valyrian steel necklace.
Tall and slender, at only thirteen years old, she was already unanimously hailed by everyone as the “First Beauty of the Seven Kingdoms”, and she was the second daughter of Viserys, Rhaenyra’s full sister—Gael Targaryen.
She shouted with dissatisfaction: “Ser Talvey will definitely win, you are not allowed to talk nonsense!”
Although this group of noble ladies were sometimes unbridled in speech and somewhat self-righteous, they were definitely not fools, and everyone held a deep fear and awe for House Valthorn behind Talvey.
Although members of House Valthorn had not appeared much in King’s Landing for decades, their might was still firmly remembered in people’s hearts.
This prestige originated from Talvey’s grandfather—Lord Iseorn Valthorn.
In his youth, Iseorn had lived through the Maegor’s Reign, the Faith Militant uprising, and the tyranny of Lord Rogar Baratheon, ultimately escorting and supporting the “Old King” Jaehaerys I to sit securely upon the Iron Throne, relying on nothing else, but rather true, decisive slaughter and an iron-fisted approach.
Ever since then, Lord Iseorn had been called the “Lord of Wrathful Flames” and the “Kingmaker”, thus establishing the might of House Valthorn that made it famous throughout the continent of Westeros.
“Giggle, giggle, Princess Gael, we all know that Ser Talvey is your betrothed, but you don’t have to be so excited, do you?”
“Indeed, indeed, we certainly didn’t speak ill of Ser Talvey.”
“Come to think of it, Princess Gael has also reached the age to be married.”
…
Gael’s pretty face turned flushed from the teasing of the noble ladies, but it could be seen that she still enjoyed these remarks quite a bit, and the smile in the depths of her eyes could hardly be concealed.
“Sit down quickly, Gael, the ladies are just chatting idly, but we still have to hope that Daemon can win. Am I right, my ladies?”
Queen Alicent said with a smile, then pulled Gael, signaling her to sit down quickly.
“The Queen is right, after all, they are all His Majesty’s vassals!”
“What the Queen said is correct.”