Chapter 477: Recall All Targaryens

Rhaegar immediately understood.

The Sea Snake had lost his son, and his hatred for Dorne had reached its peak. He had not yet vented his anger.

Rhaegar's knife and fork touched lightly as he thought deeply, muttering, "If the Sea Snake disagrees, how long can House Velaryon hold out?"

On the eve of the Battle of Myr, House Velaryon lost half of its warships. In the subsequent battles of Tyrosh and Lys, the remaining fleet was further diminished by 30%. Currently, the blockade of the Stepstones and the control of the Greenblood River are barely maintained by House Velaryon's fleet carrying the army of the Crownlands.

Despite the losses, House Velaryon reaped many benefits during the months of war. They looted wealthy merchants of Lys and Tyrosh, intercepted cargo ships at the Stepstones, and annexed the private property of Planky Town and Sunspear. These actions allowed them to recover most of their losses.

Moreover, the Triarchy would lower port taxes for House Velaryon in the future and even share some of the rights of Lys. However, the joy of these gains vanished when Laenor was killed, nullifying the benefits.

The Sea Snake lost his most important political asset, the only male heir who could ride a dragon. Now over 60 years old, his time was running out. Once the war ended, House Velaryon would face an immediate struggle for succession.

Viserys listened in silence, pondering the Sea Snake's predicament. Without an heir, the threat only increased.

Rhaegar weighed the situation and said thoughtfully, "A peace treaty is necessary. It's good that the realm will be at peace soon, but it depends on whether all parties can obtain satisfactory conditions."

Internally, Daemon occupied Tyrosh and the Sea Snake shared Lys's rights. These were almost certain. Externally, the new Sealord was sincere in restoring maritime trade in the Triarchy and uniting with Prince Qyle to quash the rebels' ambitions.

But things were not so simple. Daemon might not be honest, and the Sea Snake would definitely stir up trouble over succession. Even within the Targaryen family, with Alicent and Otto in custody, appeasing the younger siblings would be a major challenge. Not to mention Braavos, where merchants never did business at a loss.

Viserys filtered out the difficulties and a gleam of joy appeared in his eyes. "You agree to sign the peace terms?"

The Narrow Sea War was the beginning of everything. Now, the Disputed Lands, including the lower half of the Narrow Sea, were incorporated into the Iron Throne's territory. The rebellion in Dorne had faced two rounds of Dragon's Wroth, causing countless noble casualties and pushing them to recuperate.

As a king with deteriorating health, Viserys sincerely hoped the war would end soon. The credit and glory would be recorded in the family's history, giving a wise and honorable name to future generations.

Rhaegar nodded. "Of course, Dorne is not worth the time. The Disputed Lands have large tracts of fertile land waiting to be developed."

"That's good. During your absence from King's Landing, many nobles and commoners have secretly complained about the harm of war."

Viserys felt relieved, a smile of relief appearing on his lips. With continuous wars, nobles and commoners were exhausted and unwilling. Peace was essential for smooth governance.

After a moment of thought, Viserys suggested, "Rhaenys has sent a letter supporting peace, but the attitudes of Daemon and the Sea Snake remain problematic. I plan to summon them back to King's Landing for a family banquet."

They could sit at the same table and talk things over face to face.

"No problem," Rhaegar agreed. The war was basically over, and no major changes were expected. The Crownlands troops were stationed in the Riverlands, and the Sea Snake's nephews commanded troops in Sunspear. There was no fear of rebellion. With the speed of a dragon, any rebellion could be quickly resolved.

It was time to hold a family meeting and tear the fragile veil of secrecy. They would talk openly and discuss an outcome that everyone could accept.

Viserys's smile grew brighter as he kissed Baelon repeatedly, devouring a plate of roasted lamb and half a bottle of golden wine. The father and son were in high spirits, and the atmosphere at the luncheon reached a climax.

Aegon stood with one foot on the floor and the other on a chair, holding a bottle of wine and pouring it down his throat. Viserys clapped and laughed, saying Aegon had the same style he did back then.

Rhaenyra looked helpless, rushing between her father and the children, missing the days when she had to take care of Alicent. At least her father didn't need her to look after him.

Rhaegar leaned back in his chair, a smile playing on his lips as he watched the scene unfold.

Baelon wriggled free from his grandfather's arms and snuggled into his mother's embrace, cooing and rooting for milk. Rhaenyra had no choice but to wave the guards away and retreat to a corner to nurse him.

Meanwhile, little Aemon was left at the table. With a determined wiggle of his bottom, he managed to get close to the roast pig, which was bigger than he was.

"Little one, let me hold you," Helaena said, her eyes sparkling as she reached out to her nephew.

Rhaegar glanced over, the corner of his mouth lifting in amusement. Helaena, still childlike in her innocence, knelt on a chair with one leg, her whole body leaning over the table, the other leg sticking out.

Her pure mind and gift for divination had spared her from the rigid lady's education Alicent had received.

"Wow!" Aemon's eyes widened as he tried to bite the pig's snout, only to drool copiously due to his lack of teeth. Helaena tilted her head, resting her cheek on her hands, and watched her nephew's struggle with delight.

"This is much more fun than teasing the baby dragon," she thought. "He will be able to talk later."

Rhaegar sipped his sweet wine, admiring the two children, one big and one small. Suddenly, he realized he had forgotten someone. He glanced sideways.

Aemond sat upright, his single eye filled with an inexplicable emotion as he watched Helaena interact with little Aemon.

"What are you thinking?" Rhaegar asked.

Aemond was momentarily taken aback but quickly composed himself. Turning to face his brother, he asked, "Will you give me Stonehelm?"

"So eager to get a castle?" Rhaegar asked with a smile, swirling his wine cup. His younger brother was becoming more sophisticated and sensible, though not yet fully restrained.

Aemond nodded slightly and replied bluntly, "I need a fiefdom to stand on my own without relying on others."

After several wars, Aemond's mind had become more enlightened. He found House Hightower, his mother, and Aegon unreliable. Helaena was a girl, and little Daeron was still too young to be a male heir. In the large House Targaryen, conflicts were inevitable, and Rhaegar couldn't protect everyone.

Aemond saw himself as a Targaryen man with a backbone, ready to protect his mother and Aegon.

Rhaegar stared at Aemond for a moment, his expression gradually becoming more serious. He sat up straight, meeting Aemond's confident and ambitious gaze.

"You've grown up," Rhaegar said, a hint of relief and melancholy in his voice. The once-tiny baby had grown into a man who could stand tall and straight.

Aemond, not complacent, lowered his head and thought deeply. "With my military achievements, I probably won't be able to take a castle. I can go patrol Dorne and continue to make achievements."

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His merits and faults were balanced, but his military achievements didn't match those of Aegon and Helaena. He couldn't afford to be complacent.

"No need!" Rhaegar said, slapping Aemond on the shoulder with a smile. "House Swann has only a few distant relatives left. Stonehelm is yours."

"Really?" Aemond's expression changed.

"The Targaryens always keep their word," Rhaegar said, pounding his chest. "Study hard and train in the martial arts. Otherwise, when Lord Lyonel retires, I can't promise you will be the Hand of the King."

"Mmm-hmm!" Aemond's single eye glowed, and he nodded eagerly.

Hand of the King! Even his uncle Daemon, was never on the Small Council, had never even come close to that position.

The conversation between the brothers was not concealed, and everyone heard it clearly.

Aegon's face flushed with anger. He snorted in disdain and shoved a piece of beef onto his fork, chewing it forcefully.

Viserys, pleased, watched his two sons, seeing a young version of himself and Daemon. Since Aemond had sacrificed himself to save his father, Viserys had paid much more attention to this son.

Helaena was still lying on the table, her hands gripping Aemon's little legs. She was dragging Aemon, who was dragging the roast pig, which in turn was dragging the dinner plate. The two children, with equal brains, were having a great time.

...

Time flies, and the half-month passes quickly.

King's Landing, Mud Gate.

Commoners gather on the dock, their eyes fixed on the vast expanse of Blackwater Bay. According to the latest rumors circulating in Flea Bottom, today is the day the Queen Who Never Was, Rhaenys and Prince Daemon return to court. Delegates from House Velaryon of Driftmark, emissaries of Sunspear, and guests from Braavos are expected to be there.

Many vendors push their carts, braving the hot sun to sell fresh fruit and oysters. This rare event is a golden opportunity for them to make a profit.

"Roar!"

Suddenly, a thunderous dragon roar echoes, and a scarlet dragon shadow flashes across the clouds above Blackwater Bay. Before the people can catch a clear glimpse, the white clouds swirl into a tumultuous mass, leaving only a gentle breeze behind.

"Roar..."

Another shrill, piercing scream fills the air, exuding a strong sense of intimidation.

Whoosh.

A huge, serpentine scarlet dragon swoops over the Mud Gate, its fiery breath searing the wind, its dark red wings flapping as it heads towards Rhaenys's hill. Two dragons appear in succession, thrilling the onlookers.

On Blackwater Bay, a dozen ships slowly sail in, half of them flying House Velaryon's green-and-white seahorse flag. Corlys, the Sea Snake, stands alone on the deck, his hands gripping the ship's railing tightly. He glances at the large ships trailing the fleet, adorned with purple shells and spears, his eyes cold and steely.

"Damn Braavos, damn Martell!" he mutters, his voice low, knuckles white as he gazes at the magnificent Red Keep, built along the coast. "Family meeting? Let's see what kind of tricks they can play."

...

Red Keep, main gate of the Sept.

Rhaegar sits on the edge of the flower bed, looking up at the two red dragons hovering above.

"This is so annoying!" Aegon exclaims, suddenly emerging from the Sept, scratching his head and cursing.

Rhaegar glances over and asks, "What did Alicent say?"

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