Game of Thrones: I Am The Heir For A Day

Chapter 367: The Spring of Viserys

King's Landing

News of Myr's victory spread like wildfire as the ravens returned to the city. Princes, nobles, and commoners alike found new confidence in the Battle of the Narrow Sea. The dragons and princes of House Targaryen had claimed a vast territory for the kingdom.

Red Keep, Council Hall

Viserys was beaming, clutching a letter he had read over and over. He had braced himself for worsening circumstances, but to his surprise, in less than half a month, his eldest son had led the army to capture Myr—one of the most esteemed free-trading city-states in the world.

When the Triarchy rebelled during the reign of Jaehaerys, achieving a fleeting peace had come at a great cost, including the assassination of his Uncle, Aemon Targaryen and the suspected poisoning of his father, Baelon Targaryen.

Now, his eldest son had captured Myr, intending to dismantle the Triarchy's kingdom. "Hahahaha, Myr's lace and dye are the best, and now it's all Targaryen's!" Viserys laughed, his face full of triumph as he glanced at the group of royal advisers. He was eager to announce his son's achievements to the seven kingdoms.

A tall and thin maester in the corner, smiling, said, "Maester Munkun, record the Myr attack in ten thousand details in the brief history of the palace, without a single omission."

A hint of a smile appeared on Munkun's serious face as he answered, "Yes, Your Grace." Opening the heavy palace brief history, he began to write, starting with highlighting the reigning king as "Viserys I," followed by the Regent Prince's invasion of Myr with the dragon.

Viserys was pleased to have Munkun record this event, appreciating his loyalty and diligence compared to that old greaseball Mellos and the mute, uninteresting Orwyle. He often wondered why the Citadel's bookworms hadn't elected Munkun as a Maester.

Flattening the slightly creased letter on the desktop, Viserys raised an eyebrow and looked to the Hand of the King at his left, saying loudly, "How are the preparations of the ports and fleets of the realms? We must not delay the battle at the front."

Lyonel, sitting critically, replied sternly, "White Harbor and Three Sisters Island have formed an interceptor fleet, tightly controlling half of the Narrow Sea and blocking Braavos' fleet and trade. House Grafton in Gulltown has prepared ample supplies and ships to support the prince to reclaim the Stepstones Islands."

Viserys nodded repeatedly, satisfied with the thorough preparations. In the past, war preparations would have caused him a headache. But now, hearing all this made his blood boil, and he wanted to ride Vermithor to the battlefield, spray dragonfire, and return to the Red Keep to enjoy himself.

Lyonel continued, "Lady Jeyne of the Eyrie places great importance on the Narrow Sea War, summoning the Vale bannermen to personally sit in Gulltown, forming a second line of maritime defense with the Celtigar fleet of Claw Isle."

Viserys smiled broadly, saying, "Of course Lady Jeyne values this. House of Arryn never betrays its loved ones."

"Yes, Your Grace," Lyonel agreed.

A flash of helplessness crossed Lyonel's eyes as he said, "The fleets have been leaving for some time. They should arrive one after the other in about half a month."

"Very well." Viserys felt immensely relieved.

Otto, sitting in the first position to his left, suddenly spoke, "Your Grace, I think you should be aware of the situation in the Stormlands and Dorne."

"What's the problem?" Viserys was taken aback, then a little nervous.

There had been times when he faced two particularly troublesome issues: Corlys the Sea Snake and Prince Qoren of Dorne.

With his eldest son, Rhaegar, now carrying the Targaryen banner, and Alicent having given him four children, the Velaryons were no longer a threat. But the Martells of Dorne were perpetually troublesome, often keeping him awake at night with worry.

Otto's eyes deepened as he glanced at Tormund, who sat across from him, and reported, "Prince Aemond is at Storm’s End, yet House Swann of Stonehelm and House Dondarrion of Blackhaven are not following orders."

"Are those two houses still bickering over the matter of the bastards?" Viserys frowned in displeasure.

Throughout the Stormlands, Stonehelm and Blackhaven were key border defenses. One defended the sea lanes of the Cape Wrath, while the other had guarded the treacherous Boneway for generations. fɾeewebnoveℓ.co๓

Otto nodded, "The two families oppose Lady Cassandra's succession to Storm's End. This act is unlawful and deserves severe punishment."

Viserys hesitated and subconsciously looked at the Master of Whisperers seated to his right.

Tormund, smiling softly, said, "Your Grace, these houses resisted Storm’s End's orders but have strictly followed Prince Rhaegar's defense commands. They are diligently guarding Cape Wrath and the Boneway. It’s not as dire as Lord Otto suggests."

Houses with long heritages often adhered strictly to rules and beliefs. It was their duty to guard their territories and the kingdom, and they wouldn't endanger their families by defying orders.

Relieved by Tormund's words, Viserys smiled, "That's good. Let's wait until the war is over to address other issues."

Viserys took a closer look at Tormund. Dressed in black and white robes, with a young and soft face, the White Falcon and Black Raven stood on his shoulders. His appearance and demeanor starkly contrasted with the older advisers like Lyonel and Otto, yet his competence was undeniable.

Otto frowned slightly, the king's words cutting off any further discussion. Viserys, now satisfied that there was nothing of great importance left to address, decided to end the meeting.

Before leaving, Otto hesitated but still said, "According to my brother Ormund, the Ironborn are prowling the waters between Lannisport and Seagard. This could be problematic."

Viserys waved dismissively, "Lord Jason of Casterly Rock will drive away those pirates."

...

King's Chambers at Nightfall

The bed frame creaked and shook with the rhythm of their movements. After about half an hour, all was quiet again.

Viserys leaned back against the bed, draped in a white-speckled robe, sipping cold water with a flushed face. He felt exceptionally well today; his back did not hurt and his legs were not sore. He wondered if his brother Daemon had already finished his errand.

"Husband~"

Alicent's voice was crisp and clear as she buried her head in her husband's arm.

Viserys put down his glass of water, stroked his wife's locks, and smiled, "Just tell me what's on your mind."

Alicent raised her face, her white skin translucent with a layer of redness. "The Narrow Sea War isn't over yet. Do you think Rhaegar will be able to bring down all three Free Trade city-states?"

"Who can say what the gods have in plan?" Viserys smirked. "But Myr is already in our hands, isn't it?"

There were nine free-trade city-states that controlled half of the richest coastal lands on the continent of Essos. The Triarchy was located in the disputed land, and its overall strength was second only to Braavos. The prestige, population, and wealth of each of the three city-states were comparable to Westeros.

In Westeros, only the Crownlands, the Riverlands, and the Westerlands were truly wealthy. The Vale and the Riverlands were the richest, while the Northern Realm was the most bitter and cold.

Alicent's eyes twinkled as she murmured, "War brings disaster, but I hope Rhaegar can bring down the Triarchy so that the royal family can have more territory."

Though the royal realm was small, the Targaryens were not lacking in territory. What they really lacked were rich lands that could produce enough wealth.

Otherwise, a Targaryen prince of noble birth might be driven out of King's Landing to live frugally in the countryside. It was better to stay in King's Landing and enjoy the honor brought by the royal family.

"Didn't you hate war and killing?" said Viserys in surprise at the implication, looking down at his wife.

"But the war has already begun, and it's not something I, a woman of the court, can control," Alicent said quietly.

Viserys smiled and didn't mind. Even if the Triarchy were defeated, the distribution of the city-states would not be up to him. It would still have to be discussed by Rhaegar and the Small Council.

The couple embraced, each lost in their own thoughts. After a moment of silence, Alicent suddenly said, "Aegon has come of age, and his marriage is still undecided."

Viserys sighed, "That boy doesn't like Helaena. We shouldn't force our children to marry."

It was different from when they had forced Rhaenyra to marry a great noble when she was still the heir. That was to maintain the royal family's rights. Now, Viserys preferred to follow his children's wishes, or at least ensure that their marriages would last. Aemond was another matter, always bullying his fiancée Cassandra—a troublemaker like Daemon.

Alicent sighed lightly, "I know, Aegon is a prodigal son, and Helaena..."

She trailed off, not wanting to speak more about her only daughter. As a mother, she was keenly aware that Helaena had no feelings for her siblings beyond kinship. Instead, she had an inexplicable adoration for her half-brother, Rhaegar, since childhood. It drove her mad!

Viserys wondered, "What's wrong with Helaena?"

He had eyes only for his eldest son and daughter, occasionally glancing at Aegon and young Daeron, paying little attention to the rest.

"Nothing," Alicent replied, steering the conversation back on track. "Lord Jason of the Lannisters has a daughter who might be a suitable match."

Viserys sniffed, "Isn't that Lannister girl eight or nine years old?"

"Age doesn't matter; they can be betrothed first," Alicent said.

Viserys shook his head, "No! Aegon is not fit to marry a lord's daughter. You'd better choose someone else."

The Lannisters had always coveted the Targaryen dragons and power. Not to mention that Aemond was already betrothed to the Lady of Storm's End, and Aegon would be content to marry a common noblewoman.

Alicent didn't give up. "What about Margaery of Highgarden? The Tyrells?"

"I heard the old Lord of Highgarden took a new wife," Viserys said playfully.

During the Tournament of God's Eye Lake, the old Tyrell lied about his health and sent his daughter Margaery to represent Highgarden, while he stayed behind to marry a minor lord's daughter in hopes of producing a male heir. Margaery's path to emulating Jeyne and Cassandra was now ten thousand times harder.

Alicent's eyes flickered for a moment before she said casually, "House Hightower. One of my cousins has a daughter who is well-read and of the right age."

"Hightower?" Viserys hesitated, confused.

He had already married a Hightower and wasn't keen on his second son marrying another. It wasn't that Hightower women were bad - they were very considerate of their husbands. It was just that the second son should marry a daughter of another family to create more potential allies for the royal family.

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