141-145

Chapter 141: Detaining Daemon

The roar of dragons echoed across Driftmark, alarming everyone within the castle.

The banquet hall was already in chaos, a complete mess.

Daemon, who had hit the back of his head on the ground, was dazed. Clutching his legs, he hunched over in pain, cold sweat dripping from his brow.

He had been careless.

He hadn’t expected Ser Harwin Strong to teach his nephew so well that even he would suffer such a defeat.

“You’re getting old, uncle.”

Rhaegar leaned against the table, sneering as he looked down at the fallen man.

He was no longer a child. Even without relying on Cannibal, he wasn’t afraid to take on his uncle, the so-called Rogue Prince, in a one-on-one fight.

“Grrr…”

The roar of dragons reverberated. Rhaegar, panting heavily, pushed his disheveled hair back from his face.

He could feel the rage and terror of Cannibal.

Caraxes had been defeated, but this had triggered an all-out dragon brawl.

“Prince, listen to the dragons outside! What should we do now?!”

The dragon fight intensified, and Corlys Velaryon’s eyes were filled with worry as he questioned angrily.

Dragons were not like men; they were fierce, temperamental beasts.

When they fought in earnest, it was a battle to the death, and injuries—or even fatalities—were inevitable.

The death of any dragon would be an irreparable loss, whether for House Velaryon or House Targaryen.

“Lord Corlys, the priority right now is dealing with Daemon. The dragons will not settle immediately.”

Rhaegar, still connected to Cannibal through their bond, knew the dragon was unharmed for the moment. The immediate issue was quelling the unrest among the people.

“Daemon is already gravely injured. What more threat could he pose?”

Corlys, anxious and on edge, exclaimed, “One dragon is enough to destroy a town! Who knows how many are fighting out there—they’ll destroy Driftmark!”

“House Velaryon tamed dragons and kept them on Driftmark. That is a risk your house must bear.”

Having resolved a feud that had plagued him for years, Rhaegar’s mind was uncharacteristically calm, completely indifferent to Corlys’ shouts.

“Rhaegar, I can feel Vhagar’s rage—she’s joined the fight.”

Laena Velaryon, cradling the dazed Daemon, urgently warned.

As Vhagar’s rider, she could clearly sense the ancient dragon’s fury.

Vhagar had entered a frenzy, and even she could no longer control her.

“Cannibal is the one fighting Vhagar—I am well aware of that.”

Rhaegar remained unmoved, his gaze fixed on Daemon. He declared resolutely, “Right now, I only care about him!”

Laena’s face turned pale as she pleaded, “He came here seeking forgiveness—he didn’t mean to offend your authority.”

As his wife, she understood her husband well.

Beneath his roguish exterior, Daemon regretted his past sins and wanted to atone by serving the realm.

“But he should not have appeared before me in this manner!”

Rhaegar glanced at Laenor Velaryon and commanded, “At dawn, you will personally escort him back to King’s Landing.”

“Yes, my prince,” Laenor replied solemnly, taking the assignment seriously.

Daemon was the king’s younger brother, and the prince couldn’t execute him personally, as it would stain him with the crime of kinslaying.

Besides, Daemon still held value.

Imprisoning him in the dungeons of King’s Landing would ensure that Laena and their twin daughters followed.

This would serve as an excellent bargaining chip to control House Velaryon.

Laenor, decisive in action, instructed his attendants to summon the royal maester and guards to swiftly take Daemon away.

Laena, distraught, tried to stop them but was held back by Corlys.

As mere vassals, House Velaryon could not prevent the heir to the throne from arresting a criminal.

The dragons on the island were still wreaking havoc, and this was no time to argue over one man.

“This farce is over—I’m going outside to see what’s happening.”

Rhaenys Velaryon, who had remained seated throughout, finally rose, her expression grim as she strode toward the door.

She disliked the arrogant Daemon and was equally displeased with her husband’s greed.

As a woman, her heart was filled with both frustration and inner turmoil.

She couldn’t meddle in politics, but she could take control of her dragon.

Meleys had also been dragged into the dragon fight, and Rhaenys could feel her agitation. She needed to act quickly to intervene.

As Daemon was carried away by the guards, Rhaenyra let out a sigh of relief. Grasping Rhaegar’s hand, she asked, “Syrax has joined the fight too. What should we do?”

Her dragon was still young, with little combat experience.

This left her deeply worried.

For a moment, everyone’s eyes turned to Rhaegar, except for Rhaenys, who had already left.

Rhaegar scanned the room, meeting each person’s gaze before speaking firmly: “Dragonriders, follow me. Cannibal still listens to my commands—I will stop the dragon fight.”

Then, he turned to Corlys and issued a direct order: “Send men to maintain order on the island and seal off all information about tonight’s events.”

With war looming, spies could be hiding in the shadows.

The realm was already at the brink of conflict; news of internal strife could not be allowed to spread.

---

*"As you command. I hope you can successfully stop Rhaenyra."*

Corlys was deeply troubled. Tidetop Isle was the foundation of his family's legacy—it had to be protected.

*"Damn Daemon!"*

He cursed inwardly, turning to deploy his soldiers.

If it weren’t for Daemon’s sudden appearance, he could have approached King’s Landing negotiations in a much stronger position.

Now that Daemon had been captured, his daughter and wife would take the opportunity to grow closer to the royal family, greatly weakening his own influence.

*"Laenor, come with me. We’ll try to take control of Vhagar."*

Watching Laenor’s grief-stricken expression, Rhaegar sighed. His husband and father were both ambitious men—what choice did he have?

Rhaegar was the first to step out of the castle, and the others quickly followed.

They could all feel the dragons' restlessness, each one gripped by fear.

*"Screeeeech..."*

In the night sky, six dragons clashed in pairs.

Meleys circled above, toying with the reckless Sunfyre, unleashing bursts of crimson dragonfire.

Sea Smoke and Syrax were locked in a fierce struggle, biting and clawing at each other mid-air.

But the most intense battle belonged to the two true giants.

The Cannibal’s pitch-black body weaved through the clouds, spitting green flames like falling comets.

Vhagar, even larger in size, soared through the sky with hurricane-like force, its slitted eyes reflecting only the Cannibal.

A closer look revealed that a massive chunk of flesh had been torn from Vhagar’s neck.

Had it been any other dragon, such a bite would have been fatal. But its immense size had saved it from instant death.

The Cannibal, however, was in worse shape.

Two massive gashes had been ripped open in its underbelly, and scalding dragon blood rained down from above.

Its fearsome head bore deep claw marks, with a bloody wound running across one eye—fortunately, its green pupil remained intact.

Below, the streets of High Tide were in chaos. Soldiers rushed to mobilize, hurrying to deliver messages to the two towns on the island.

*"Meleys! Stop fighting and leave the battlefield!"*

By the light of the torches, Rhaegar spotted Rhaenys standing beneath the stone archway, calling up to the sky.

Among the battling dragons, aside from the unrelenting clash between the Cannibal and Vhagar, most were still engaged over High Tide.

The roars of dragons were deafening, drowning out Rhaenys’s desperate shouts.

*"Screeeeech..."*

Meleys, known as the Red Queen, was a dazzling sight to behold. She and Quicksilver had hatched from the same clutch of eggs.

With her incredible speed, she darted unpredictably through the sky, playing Sunfyre like a fool.

Daemon had to be imprisoned, the Sea Snake needed to be taught a lesson, and the dragons had to be claimed by the royal family.

Rhaegar carried a heavy burden.

(End of chapter)

Chapter 142: The Dragons Halt Their Fury

Many years ago, Meraxes had been hailed as the fastest dragon in the history of Westeros, effortlessly outpacing Caraxes and Vhagar in the skies.

During tonight’s dragon duel, it perfectly demonstrated its remarkable speed.

Sunfyre couldn’t even touch it, trailing far behind as if a cat was toying with a mouse.

“Meraxes, stop fighting!”

Rhaenys continued shouting, her face heavy with concern as she watched the chaos of the dragons above.

“Screeeech...”

Amid her repeated calls, it seemed Meraxes had heard her voice.

The red dragon ceased its attack on Sunfyre, its vertical pupils scanning the skies above High Tide for the figure of its rider.

Rhaenys was overjoyed and waved her torch while shouting, “Leave the battlefield, Meraxes!”

“Screeeech...”

Meraxes keenly spotted its rider and unleashed a burst of dragonfire to repel the pursuing Sunfyre.

Sensing Rhaenys’s will, its pupils flickered with a trace of laziness, and with ease, it shook off Sunfyre and vanished into the night.

This was a naturally indolent dragon with a deep bond with its rider, obeying her command to retreat from battle.

“Screeeech...”

Deprived of its opponent, Sunfyre roared in helpless rage. Its gaze fell on Seasmoke, who was locked in combat with Syrax. Without hesitation, Sunfyre lunged forward.

Its golden scales, blackened by Meraxes’s flames, radiated its fury, and it made Seasmoke its next target.

“Syrax!!…”

Rhaegar and the others emerged from the castle, and Rhaenyra immediately saw Syrax drenched in blood. She cried out in alarm.

Syrax seemed to sense its rider’s emotions, and for a moment, its vicious biting paused.

“Screeeech...”

In the blink of an eye, the enraged Seasmoke struck Syrax with its wing, sending it reeling before resuming its ferocious assault.

Sunfyre charged in and slammed into Seasmoke, turning the fight into a chaotic melee of three dragons. Dragonfire rained down from the skies.

“Haha, well done! Sunfyre, tear it apart!”

Watching his dragon fight, Aegon was thrilled, clapping his hands with wild laughter.

“Shut your foul mouth!”

Seeing the dire situation, Rhaegar kicked Aegon to the ground, wishing he could sew his lips shut.

Aegon rolled twice on the ground, glaring at Rhaegar in fear while silently gritting his teeth.

“Vhagar has lost control; all that’s left in its heart is rage,” Laenor said as he approached, his face distraught.

“It’s fine. Vhagar’s weakness is its speed,” Rhaegar said, his expression grim as he stared at the younger, more agile Cannibal breathing fire in the night sky.

The Cannibal was younger and more flexible.

As long as it didn’t engage in close combat with Vhagar, it wouldn’t be in grave danger.

Rhaegar closed his eyes slightly, concentrating on establishing a connection with the Cannibal to end this chaotic dragon battle as quickly as possible.

“Screeeech...”

High above, Seasmoke’s anguished cries echoed.

Syrax and Sunfyre, brother and sister, had ganged up on it.

In just moments, Seasmoke was left covered in wounds.

“Rhaegar, command your dragon to stop this madness! Seasmoke can’t hold on much longer,” Laenor pleaded, pacing anxiously.

Seasmoke was his dragon, his companion of more than a decade. He could feel its pain.

“Calm down! The Cannibal needs to first shake off Vhagar’s pursuit,” Rhaegar snapped, his tone sharp as he struggled to communicate with the Cannibal.

He didn’t want this spectacle to end with a dragon’s death either.

Every dragon in the sky belonged to House Targaryen.

The death of any dragon would be a devastating loss for their family.

“Screeeech...”

Finally, the Cannibal sensed its rider’s will and roared as it scanned the ground below.

The pain from its wounds only fueled its anger.

“Cannibal, lure Vhagar away!”

The moment he established a connection, Rhaegar instinctively shouted, his eyes locked on the old dragon in the sky.

That ancient dragon had gone berserk.

If the fight continued, it would only end in mutual destruction.

“Screeeech...”

The Cannibal unleashed a jet of dragonfire, then sped into the clouds, heading toward the waters beyond Driftmark.

Having wreaked havoc on Dragonstone for years, the Cannibal was not only physically formidable but also cunning.

Though seething with rage, it knew better than to continue fighting the elder dragon, though its desire to tear it apart burned fiercely.

The dragon flames couldn’t harm the thick-scaled elder dragon, and close combat proved equally disadvantageous.

Vhagar, blinded by rage, focused solely on chasing down the Cannibal, its massive body struggling to keep up.

By the time it pursued the Cannibal out of Tidetop Island, the latter had already disappeared into the night, vanishing without a trace.

“Hiss-screech...”

Frustrated at losing its target, Vhagar grew increasingly irritable, spewing flames wildly and flaring its nostrils in search of a scent.

After a while, it seemed to catch a whiff of the Cannibal’s lingering blood scent and set off in the direction of the Narrow Sea.

With two colossal dragons leaving Tidetop Island, the remaining three continued their fierce battle.

Sunfyre appeared to have gone berserk, relentlessly spewing flames and indiscriminately attacking both Seasmoke and Syrax.

The two naturally vicious dragons turned on Sunfyre together, biting at its neck and hind legs, intending to eliminate the reckless beast first.

“No! Sunfyre, run!”

Sensing the danger, Aegon scrambled to his feet and shouted desperately toward the sky.

He couldn’t afford to lose Sunfyre here.

“Rhaegar, Syrax is tied up. It and Seasmoke are going to tear Sunfyre apart.”

Rhaenyra, able to communicate with Syrax, couldn’t fully control it in the chaos of battle.

“Don’t worry. The Cannibal will be back soon!”

Rhaegar, holding a torch, gazed out into the murky night sky.

“Hiss-screech!!”

No sooner had he finished speaking than a shadow emerged from the other side of Tidetop Island, hurtling toward the three entangled dragons.

Boom—

A jet of green dragonfire sprayed from afar, engulfing the trio in a torrential blaze.

All three dragons suffered injuries, their wounds crackling under the scorching flames, releasing the acrid stench of burning sulfur.

The enormous black shadow followed the flames with a charge, slamming into the three dragons and scattering them apart.

“Hiss-screech…”

Seasmoke, being the closest, bore the brunt of the impact and was instantly flung against the cliffs below, letting out a miserable wail.

Sunfyre, stunned by the collision, shook its head in confusion and screeched feebly.

As the green flames subsided, the Cannibal’s form became visible. Its eyes gleamed with menace as it fixed its gaze on the two golden dragons.

Having been by the Cannibal’s side for years, Syrax was well aware of its terror. Following its rider’s command, Syrax fled in panic.

Sunfyre, still dazed and oblivious to the situation, let out a defiant roar at the Cannibal.

Boom—

Before it could finish roaring, the Cannibal dove down, reversed mid-air, and lashed out with its thick tail like a whip, striking Sunfyre.

Without even a chance to scream, Sunfyre was sent flying, landing on the nearby shallow beach.

At that moment, it recalled its fear of the Cannibal and immediately regained its senses.

Twisting its body, it burrowed into the mud and sand to hide from the Cannibal’s view.

The Cannibal’s slit-pupil eyes locked onto Sunfyre, watching to see if it would continue resisting, ready to vent its fury.

Seeing Sunfyre cower in terror, the Cannibal growled lowly, shifting its attention to Seasmoke.

Seasmoke had just managed to stand, its scales shattered in many places, dragon blood scorching the grass beneath it.

“Hiss-screech…”

Feeling the killing intent radiating toward it, Seasmoke ignored its pain and desperately spread its wings, fleeing back to its nest on Tidetop Island.

---

*Dragon Battle Outcome:*

- Blood Wyrm: severely injured

- Sunfyre and Seasmoke: critically injured

- Syrax, Vhagar, and the Cannibal: lightly injured

- Meleys: fled

This result was determined by each dragon’s personality under the condition of not having undead dragons.

The dragon battle is merely a means, not the end goal.

(End of Chapter)

*Chapter 143: The Turmoil Continues*

Staring at the retreating figure of the battered Seasmoke, the Devourer snorted disdainfully, its vertical pupils brimming with contempt.

Aside from the old dragon who fought with unyielding resolve, not a single dragon on the entire island posed a threat.

Turning its gaze toward the distant night, a trace of unease flickered in its eyes.

With a beat of its wings, it whipped up a howling gale and descended toward High Tide City below.

By the stone archway, clusters of torches were lit.

Looking at the Devourer's silhouette, Rhaegar's expression remained calm, though waves of turmoil churned in his heart.

Tonight’s banquet had been disrupted by Daemon's unexpected arrival.

The battle between uncle and nephew, coupled with the chaotic clash of dragons, shattered the fragile façade of peace, leaving the situation beyond repair.

“Sigh, truth only reveals itself under dragonfire...”

Rhaegar sighed inwardly, his gaze sweeping subtly over the Velaryon crowd as he silently plotted his next move.

As the chaos subsided, Rhaenys’ expression eased somewhat. She was the first to speak:

“Rhaegar, your dragon is truly extraordinary.”

With decades of experience as a dragonrider, she could barely establish a connection with Meleys strong enough to guide her dragon out of the fray.

Yet that pitch-black behemoth had not only abandoned its fight with Vhagar but had also managed to divert Vhagar’s attention, forcing the other dragons to retreat.

This level of mastery was far beyond what ordinary dragonriders could achieve.

With the dragons’ fighting ceased, the others finally breathed a sigh of relief.

Although several dragons had sustained injuries to varying degrees—Seasmoke and Sunfyre most notably, having been heavily damaged by the Devourer’s assault—they had at least escaped with their lives.

“Aunt, tonight’s trouble is far from over,” Rhaegar said, lowering his gaze while secretly communicating with the Devourer.

“Rhaenys, the dragons have flown off. Is everything resolved now?”

Corlys Velaryon strode forward in light armor, leading a squad of guards as he anxiously addressed his wife.

During the dragon brawl, as expected, disturbances had erupted across the island.

Corlys had already dispatched men to quell the unrest, raising the island’s security level to the highest alert.

Seeing her husband’s worried face, Rhaenys hesitated, her expression conflicted.

“Corlys…”

Before she could finish speaking, a thunderous roar echoed through the air.

A sudden gust of wind swept down on High Tide City, extinguishing clusters of torches.

“Stand ready!”

Corlys' face changed dramatically as he hurriedly relit the torches and shielded his wife behind him.

Though he dreamed of House Velaryon possessing more dragons, he, like Viserys, harbored a deep, inexplicable fear of their power.

Years of seafaring had taught him that the forces of nature were vast and uncontrollable; even the most steadfast sailors could do little but avoid them.

In Corlys’ eyes, dragons were beings beyond human control—useful, yet dangerous.

The guards quickly formed a protective circle around Rhaegar and the others, fumbling to rekindle the torches.

The renewed glow of the flames drove back the darkness once more.

At last, a shadow emerged, casting half of High Tide City into its massive outline.

“Lord Corlys, it seems that aside from discussing the matter of the Triarchy, the invitation to King’s Landing may also require a conversation about the ownership of dragons.”

Rhaegar’s calm voice echoed, reaching the ears of everyone present.

Corlys, whose eyesight had worsened with age, squinted at Rhaegar beneath the stone archway.

Rhaegar stood with his head slightly lowered, facing away from the crowd, his silver hair dancing in the night wind.

“Prince, all dragonriders in my house carry Targaryen blood. Our two families have been intertwined through generations of marriage,” Corlys said, glancing at his wife. His heartbeat quickened.

As he spoke, a trace of nervousness crept into his tone, as if even he couldn’t fully convince himself of the argument he had just made.

“Oh, is that so?”

Rhaegar’s voice remained indifferent, a faint chuckle escaping his lips.

“In that case, it’s all the more reason to have a thorough discussion and establish a proper system to ensure that no ill-intentioned individuals can undermine the friendship between our two houses.”

While speaking, he slowly turned around.

In the flickering light of the torches, the crowd vaguely saw a massive, pitch-black figure standing behind the stone archway.

Rhaegar swept his gaze over the assembled Velaryons and said calmly, "What do you think, Lord Corlys?"

Whoosh—  

As his words fell, a fierce gust of wind accompanied them. The Devourer unfurled its broad wings, its bloodied dragon head towering as high as the spires of High Tide. Its green, slitted pupils surveyed everyone below.

Corlys Velaryon’s eyes narrowed as he swallowed hard and gripped his wife's hand tightly.

No one could ignore the presence of a dragon staring them down.

Rhaegar clasped his hands in front of him, advancing step by step, and asked, "Aunt Rhaenys, you are a princess of House Targaryen. Do you support my proposal?"

"Rhaegar, I am but a woman. I cannot determine the fate of an entire family."

Rhaenys held her head high, meeting her nephew’s gaze without a hint of fear.

She was a sharp and wise woman.

Since the day she first rode a dragon, she had experienced marriage, childbirth, competition for the Iron Throne, and countless battles, both large and small.

But the world does not always bend to one’s will.

In Westeros, men held the reins of power. Simply because she was a woman, her voice was always weaker than a man’s.

She became a pawn in her family’s marriage alliances, a subordinate to her husband.

Though she held the title of the "Queen Who Never Was," she could only live a slow, stagnant life on Dragonstone, much like her dragon, Meleys the Red Queen, lazing away in a confined space.

Day after dull day passed by.

"Aunt, being born a woman is not your fault. You possess wisdom that rivals that of Queen Visenya herself."

In their brief interactions, Rhaegar was convinced that Rhaenys’s loyalty still lay with House Targaryen. Thus, he tried to persuade her:

"When I return to King’s Landing, I will secure a position for you on the Small Council. The dragons of House Targaryen must remain within the family, under Targaryen leadership."

He intended to form a Dragonrider Corps.

This plan would not only gather the Velaryon dragons but also prevent future complications arising from marriage alliances, where dragons would leave with daughters married into other houses.

"What position do you intend to give Rhaenys?"

Hearing talk of a Small Council seat and the issue of dragon ownership, Corlys was filled with suspicion.

Rhaegar glanced at him but did not reply.

Corlys frowned at the silence, wanting to press further.

“Screeech—”  

The Devourer raised its head and roared, green dragonfire shooting into the sky, casting the entirety of High Tide in an eerie emerald glow.

As the flames blazed, the temperature climbed higher and higher, making everyone feel as though they were trapped in a raging inferno. The suffocating heat was almost unbearable.

Standing before the Devourer, Rhaegar’s skin reddened slightly, his body radiating intense heat.

Fueled by boiling blood, Rhaegar seemed unfazed as he issued a warning:

"Lord Corlys, dragons are the wealth of House Targaryen. It is not your place to interfere!"

His father had been too weak, allowing Corlys and House Velaryon to grow increasingly bold in dismissing the royal family.

Initially, Rhaegar had not decided how to reclaim the Velaryon dragons.

Now, a strategy that had appeared in his dreams provided him with the solution.

When the time was right and his strength was sufficient, he knew he would have to act decisively to avoid future disasters.

"Enough! They can’t endure this heat any longer, Rhaegar!"

The air grew hotter and hotter, nearly unbearable. Rhaenys supported her husband, who was struggling to breathe, and pleaded with her nephew.

She bore the blood of the dragon, as did her children.

But her husband was merely a Valyrian descendant. If the dragonfire continued, his aging body would not survive.

"Aunt, do you agree with my proposal?"

Rhaegar ignored her plea, repeating his question instead.

Tonight was an excellent opportunity. The Velaryon dragons were scattered or fleeing, their spirits low.

He would not let this chance slip away.

Rhaenys was truly a remarkable woman, possessing both wisdom and courage.

But unlike Rhaenyra, she never had the same opportunities. She was always caught between House Targaryen and her husband’s family.

I’ve noticed that in the TV adaptation of House of the Dragon, women are often constrained by circumstances beyond their control, left powerless to choose their own paths.

---

(End of Chapter)  

*Chapter 144: Shelltown*

“Rhaegar, do you truly intend to grant me power?”

Rhaenys, her eyes lined with wrinkles, stared at her nephew in disbelief.

How she longed to wield authority—to change her husband’s mind and ease the tensions between the Targaryens and the Velaryons. But she never expected the opportunity to arrive in this manner.

“You are a princess of the royal family. In honoring our great-grandfather Jaehaerys’ legacy, I trust you.”

Rhaegar admitted this without a change in expression.

Everyone harbors doubts.

As the matriarch of House Velaryon, Rhaenys was no exception—he couldn’t trust her completely.

Yet, it was precisely because Rhaenys bore the dual bloodlines of Targaryen and Velaryon that she could serve as the glue between them, achieving his goals without bloodshed.

Hearing Rhaegar’s affirmation, Rhaenys glanced down at her husband’s pained expression, and a decision formed in her heart.

Raising her head again, she looked directly at Rhaegar and solemnly declared, “I accept your proposal. Of the three surviving houses descended from Old Valyria, only unity can ensure enduring strength.”

“A wise choice, Aunt,” Rhaegar said, satisfied with her response.

He clapped his hands together, the sound crisp and clear.

“Shriek!”

The gluttonous dragon ceased spewing flames, roaring toward High Tide before soaring into the sky.

The ancient dragon could return to Driftmark at any moment, so vigilance was necessary.

As the dragonfire dissipated, the temperature began to drop, and the air once again became breathable.

The Sea Snake opened his mouth wide, greedily gulping down fresh air, his dim eyes regaining their focus.

Moments ago, he had felt as though he were facing the Stranger.

It was a sensation he had rarely experienced in his long life—only once before, during his youth when a storm capsized his ship on a voyage to Asshai, dragging the entire crew into the waves.

Rhaenys gently caressed her husband’s cheek, her gaze resolute as she urged him, “Corlys, we must reconcile with the royal family.”

After many years of marriage, she couldn’t bear to watch her husband stray further down the wrong path.

“Fine, I’ll do as you say,” Corlys Velaryon replied, gasping for air, fully aware of the differences between King Viserys and his son Rhaegar’s methods of governance.

He decided to abandon his original plans and reconsider the future of their house.

“It’s good that you’ve come to terms with this. We missed our chance, and it’s time to let it go,” Rhaenys said, referring to their loss at the Great Council of 101 AC.

The Sea Snake had long been bitter about that event, believing his wife deserved to be chosen as the heir, which would have elevated House Velaryon’s status significantly.

This sense of loss had been one of the key reasons for the rift between him and the crown.

Laenor and Laena approached their parents, the family’s mood somber.

Meanwhile, Rhaenyra walked toward Rhaegar.

Seeing this, Aegon clenched his teeth and stood behind Rhaegar as well.

Under the flickering light of the surrounding torches carried by guards, the two families stood clearly divided.

“The danger has passed, and this banquet should now come to an end,” Laenor finally broke the silence, forcing a smile toward Rhaegar and his siblings.

“It’s late. You should all rest,” the Sea Snake said, his legs weak as he struggled to maintain his dignified demeanor, inviting Rhaegar and his siblings to return to the castle.

At this point, House Velaryon couldn’t possibly risk rebellion and mutual destruction against the crown.

Having traveled the world and clawed his way to prominence, Corlys had developed a broad perspective.

One setback was not enough to blind him with rage.

“Thank you, Lord Corlys. You and your house are indispensable friends of the crown,” Rhaegar replied with a respectful nod, signaling the conclusion of the matter.

---

*Three days later.*

The island of Driftmark buzzed with activity as guests arrived from far and wide. Ships filled the harbor, all coming to celebrate Rhaenys’ name day.

The celebration banquet was held in grand fashion, meeting the expectations of the guests.

As the host, the Sea Snake welcomed guests from all over the castle, accompanied by his eldest son, Laenor.

Two days earlier, Laenor had already returned to King’s Landing, escorting a tightly bound Daemon aboard the ship.

Rhaenys volunteered to go along, bringing her two children with her to King’s Landing.

Vhagar had not yet returned, though fishermen claimed to have spotted it at sea.

The Sea Snake did not stop Rhaenys from making this decision.

He had already resolved to partially align with the crown’s rule and was not concerned that Viserys would make things difficult for his daughter.

Once the festivities concluded, he planned to take his family to King’s Landing as well to discuss the matter of the “Three Daughters” and his wife’s position.

As a politician, Corlys Velaryon intended to make up for the benefits he had lost in other ways.

---

*Shelltown.*

A large theater.

Thanks to the Uncrowned Queen’s name day, many theater troupes and circuses had traveled to Driftmark, hoping to make a fortune.

Rhaegar sat at the edge of the second floor, watching the play being performed below.

It was an outdated production about the Great Council of 101 and the selection of a successor.

As expected, the actress portraying Rhaenys was quickly knocked to the ground by the actor playing Viserys, symbolizing her failure as a contender for succession.

“What a boring performance. Why doesn’t the kingdom ban these plays that mock the royal family?”

Rhaegar ate grapes one by one as he curiously glanced at the seat beside him.

“They’re just a bunch of clowns.”

Rhaenys, draped in a black cloak, sat cross-legged next to him, calmly watching the performance.

She didn’t appear the least bit angry and even criticized the actress for being unattractive and damaging her image.

“Aunt, today is your name day. Are you sure you don’t want to return to the castle?”

Rhaegar asked casually.

Rhaenys shook her head. “I’ve already made an appearance. I don’t want to entertain those ladies any further—it’s exhausting.”

“So, we’re just going to watch this lousy play?”

Rhaegar tried to guess the purpose behind Rhaenys bringing him here.

“What else would we do?”

Rhaenys countered with a rhetorical question before adding, “This is just another example of the kingdom’s prejudice against women. I’m sure Rhaenyra has faced similar depictions in plays.”

“There aren’t many theater troupes in King’s Landing.”

Rhaegar turned his head and made an unrelated remark.

After being named heir to the throne, King’s Landing had been flooded with plays depicting baby dragons defeating the “Light of the Realm.”

Those plays were performed during the day, and the actors had their tongues cut out that same night.

No one knew who was responsible, but one thing was certain:

After that, the number of theater troupes in King’s Landing dwindled to a handful, and they only dared to perform lowbrow comedies to make a living.

Rhaenys had heard some rumors and couldn’t help but admire Rhaenyra for having such a supportive brother. She asked, “Do you plan to claim Laenor and Rhaenys’s dragons?”

Rhaegar shook his head. “Once a dragon chooses its rider, it won’t accept another.”

“Back in Old Valyria, forty dragonlord families maintained their glory for thousands of years by adopting a council system.”

“Westeros only has one dragonlord family—the Targaryens. I’ve decided to form a corps of dragonriders, bringing non-Targaryen dragonriders under royal command.”

“So that’s why you’ve pushed me to the forefront?” Rhaenys wasn’t surprised but sighed nonetheless.

“The Targaryens’ rule is based on dragons, and only dragons can destroy dragons.”

Rhaegar quoted his great-grandfather Jaehaerys’s famous words.

“I’ll advise Corlys to let go of his unrealistic ambitions.”

Rhaenys sighed and leaned back in her chair, slowly closing her eyes.

Seeing that his aunt had lost interest in continuing the conversation, Rhaegar tactfully stood up, grabbed a handful of dates, and left.

With the celebration over, a negotiation awaited him in King’s Landing.

The “Three Daughters” continued to lurk in the shadows, ready to launch an invasion at any moment.

The kingdom’s internal instability made it impossible to focus entirely on external threats.

The Targaryens’ enemies came from outside—Dorne, the Iron Islands, the Free Cities…

But the internal power struggles would continue, though it wasn’t yet time for open conflict.

---

(End of Chapter)  

Chapter 145: The Vanguard of the Three Daughters

After leaving the theater, Rhaegar wandered aimlessly through the streets, taking in the sights and culture of Shell Town.

Living on an island where land is scarce, most people made their living through handicrafts.

Street vendors were everywhere, their stalls lining both sides of the streets.

In addition to traditional industries, there were many lucrative trades:

gambling halls, brothels, and fighting pits...

Rhaegar, dressed in elegant black attire, his silver hair flowing behind him, and his handsome face, drew a lot of attention as he walked through the streets.

Many kind-hearted older women standing on the corners approached him, offering to show him some "fun activities."

As an innocent young man, Rhaegar still held a certain sense of wonder about such things.

Though his face remained expressionless, a faint restlessness stirred within him.

As he hesitated, he suddenly heard a familiar humming sound.

Rhaegar raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

"Shh, step aside," he said.

Politely pushing past a particularly bold and generous woman, he approached the entrance to a narrow alley at the end of the street.

"Hehe, you're so soft, my beauty~"

In the alley, a completely naked Aegon was tightly embracing a voluptuous woman, engaged in an intense and sweaty activity.

"Aegon..."

Rhaegar’s eyes widened in surprise. He hadn’t expected his little brother to start indulging in such acts so early.

As a responsible older brother, Rhaegar, though perplexed by Aegon’s enthusiasm for public escapades, chose to be understanding.

Glancing at Aegon’s lower half, Rhaegar’s expression turned playful, and he clicked his tongue.

However, when his eyes fell on the woman’s face, his expression froze, and his mouth dropped open in shock.

"What’s wrong, handsome?"

The woman who had invited him earlier had followed him and, upon glancing at the scene in the alley, chuckled. "That’s my mom. Do you like mature women too?"

"No, no, I prefer young and pretty ones," Rhaegar stammered, flustered and deeply shaken by Aegon’s taste. Without hesitation, he fled the scene.

He swore that the impact of seeing that older woman rivaled the fear he’d felt as a child when encountering a Shadowbinder.

"Seven hells! What kind of lessons did Alicent give her son?!"

Ignoring the string of flirtatious invitations directed at him, Rhaegar made a hasty retreat.

He didn’t want to stay a second longer.

---

By noon, the sun over the island was unbearably scorching, shining so brightly it was hard to keep one’s eyes open.

After escaping the red-light district, Rhaegar overheard from the locals that the area he had wandered into was the largest and most notorious back alley in town.

Having witnessed Aegon’s approach to life, Rhaegar found himself oddly calm, his reason triumphing over desire.

He strolled through town, stopping occasionally, and eventually found his way to Shell Town’s bustling port.

At this time, the port was packed with ships, and groups of dockworkers were tirelessly unloading cargo under the blazing sun.

Just as Rhaegar was about to find a shady spot to rest, a commotion broke out at the port.

"Someone help! A lifeboat just drifted in..."

"There’s a dead man aboard! He’s covered in blood..."

The voices of concerned townsfolk filled the air, and agile sailors jumped into the water to push the lifeboat ashore. The body was quickly brought onto land.

Rhaegar glanced at the scene from a distance.

The deceased was dressed in luxurious clothing, with an arrow lodged in his back—a quick death.

Soon, soldiers stationed at the port arrived, carrying the body away and restoring order.

"Something must’ve happened," Rhaegar muttered to himself before quietly heading back to High Tide.

The routes around the Narrow Sea, Stepstones, and nearby waters were generally considered safe.

The lifeboat clearly indicated a pirate attack, likely orchestrated by the Three Daughters.

---

On his way back, Rhaegar encountered a visibly anxious Rhaenys, accompanied by a group of guards.

Rhaenys spoke sternly, "We just received word—pirates have been spotted in the Stepstones, ambushing a Volantene fleet."

"I saw the failed escape of a lifeboat at the port," Rhaegar shared.

"Corlys has already ordered the news suppressed to prevent panic among the guests. We need to return immediately," Rhaenys urged, her tone hurried. She, being impulsive by nature, understood all too well the threat pirates posed.

---

At High Tide, the banquet continued in full swing, with the guests blissfully unaware of the situation.

Rhaenys led Rhaegar through a secret passage into the castle, heading toward the Council Chamber of Nine Walls.

The Sea Snake was seated on the Driftwood Throne, awaiting their arrival.

---

Seeing his wife return with Rhaegar, he quickly stood up to greet them and said in a deep voice, “The scouts have reported back—the pirates from the Kingdom of the Three Daughters launched the attack. It’s likely a pre-war probe.”

“Should we assemble the fleet?”

Rhaenys asked directly.

“No, such a large movement would alarm our guests. The raiding pirates are only a small unit, and the fleet wouldn’t catch them in time,” Corlys replied, his expression serious as he weighed the pros and cons.

The pirates from the Kingdom of the Three Daughters are notorious for their hit-and-run tactics—if they can’t escape, they simply hide.

The Volantis fleet had already been plundered. If they were to dispatch a fleet now, the pirates would be long gone before they arrived.

“After raiding the fleet, they’ll have to transport their loot. That’s a time-consuming and labor-intensive task,” Rhaenys analyzed systematically and then smiled. “The fleet may not be able to catch them, but dragons certainly can!”

Corlys frowned, disapproving. “The pirates from the Three Daughters are well aware of our strength. Their ships are equipped with scorpion ballistae.”

During the last war in the Stepstones, aside from the Crabfeeder’s evasive strategy, the arrows and scorpion ballistae also posed significant challenges to Corlys’s forces.

Even dragons like Caraxes and Seasmoke were wary of volleys from multiple scorpion ballistae during naval battles, avoiding their firepower whenever possible.

“It doesn’t matter. At most, there are only a few pirate ships, so how many scorpion ballistae could they possibly have?”

Rhaenys exuded confidence and said, “Meleys is the fastest dragon—they won’t be able to hit her with scorpion ballistae.”

Hearing this, Corlys hesitated.

His wife was right. Meleys was incredibly fast and could reach the Stepstones in just an hour.

However, they were dealing with ruthless pirates. How could he be at ease letting his wife face them alone?

His eldest son, Laenor, was injured, and Laenor also had to accompany the guests and couldn’t leave.

Worry for his wife outweighed his anger toward the pirates, and Corlys made a decision, firmly refusing, “It’s too risky…”

“Lord Corlys, I can accompany Aunt Rhaenys,” Rhaegar interrupted before Corlys could finish speaking.

Corlys turned to Rhaegar and frowned. “Prince, the pirates of the Three Daughters are not common poachers. You shouldn’t risk yourself.”

After all, the young man standing before him was the king’s eldest son and the heir to the kingdom.

Allowing Rhaegar to confront the pirates of the Three Daughters was a gamble. If anything happened to him, Corlys would bear the blame as the greatest sinner of House Velaryon.

“You needn’t worry. You’ve seen the power of the Cannibal; those pirates are nothing,” Rhaegar said confidently.

Moreover, he was eager to experience the might of the pirates from the Kingdom of the Three Daughters firsthand.

He had grown tired of hearing secondhand stories about them and was curious if they were truly as fearsome as others claimed.

Corlys’s expression darkened. He glanced at his wife, his eyes filled with hesitation and concern.

If it were up to him, he would rather let the pirates go than risk sending both his wife and the heir to the throne into danger.

But alas, the Targaryen bloodline brought them dragons—and also an unyielding courage.

Rhaenys, far from rejecting the idea, assessed Rhaegar with a scrutinizing gaze before proudly saying, “Are you ready to face blood and fire?”

“A bunch of pirates? They’re hardly worth my concern,” Rhaegar said with a light chuckle.

The dragon he rode was none other than the Cannibal, a true, fearsome giant.

A dragon of that size had little to fear on the battlefield—unless, like Queen Rhaenys during the Conquest, they were unlucky enough to have a scorpion ballista hit their dragon’s eye.

That concluded today's writing.

First time on the battlefield—taking a leisurely ride on a dragon.

(End of Chapter)