Maynard and Syrio stepped onto the terrace where Rhaegar had been waiting.
Maynard was the first to speak. "Prince, I've assigned the craftsmen from the slave ships to work at the Dragonpit and arranged for the children to learn their crafts. I've also started the apprentice training you ordered. There are one or two with promising talent."
Rhaegar nodded. "How many craftsmen are there in King's Landing?"
Before his trip, Rhaegar had laid out several long-term strategies, one of which involved gaining control over the city's smiths.
Maynard replied, "Including blacksmiths, carpenters, masons, and others, there are probably several thousand craftsmen in the city."
These craftsmen made a living through their trades and generally had no trouble making ends meet. It was a common occupation among the populace.
"Select some of the most skilled smiths to expand the workforce at the Dragonpit. Leave the rest for now," Rhaegar instructed.
It was sufficient to have a count of the craftsmen. They would comply when their skills were needed.
Having completed his report, Maynard stepped back, maintaining a respectful demeanor.
Syrio then stepped forward with a smile. "Prince, I've found an exceptional girl and plan to teach her myself."
"As you wish, just don't neglect your primary duties," Rhaegar responded, confident in Syrio's capabilities.
"I'll bring the girl later so you can meet her in person," Syrio said with a mysterious smile.
Rhaegar nodded, signaling them to retire with a wave of his hand. He turned back to watch his younger siblings as they continued their attempts to tame their dragons.
...
Noon.
The army of the Riverlands marched into King's Landing, their armor and shields adorned with clan crests:
A leaping trout, silver, on a field of blue and mud red, a flock of ravens on scarlet surrounding a dead weirwood upon a black escutcheon, A red stallion upon a golden escutcheon on brown and a red salmon.
Each banner represented the noble houses of the Riverlands.
Lyonel and his eldest son, Harwin, rode at the forefront, receiving cheers from the crowds and becoming the center of attention.
Viserys, looking healthy and vibrant, stepped out from the gates of the Red Keep, flanked by Rhaegar, to greet the army personally.
At the sight of the King and the Heir, the army halted, and representatives from each family came forward to pay their respects.
Viserys, calm and relaxed, warmly welcomed the Riverlands nobles. Rhaegar, by his side, took on the task of greeting the noble representatives.
"The Blackwood House greets you, honorable prince," a slender, dark-haired young man said, kneeling on one knee.
"Rise. What is your name?" Rhaegar asked, studying the youth who appeared slightly older than himself, with hands full of calluses.
"Samwell Blackwood, Your Grace," the young man replied, his chest puffed out and eyes gleaming with pride.
Rhaegar's interest was piqued. "The Samwell who dueled and killed the Lord of Bracken?"
Samwell flushed with excitement. "Yes, Prince, that was me."
"You should be proud of yourself, killing a grown man while still a teenager," Rhaegar noted, sensing a hint of modesty in Samwell's demeanor.
Samwell smiled sheepishly. "It was the Bracken House's foolhardiness that led them to fall before my sword."
"Hehe, I like your modesty," Rhaegar said, amused. He then invited Samwell to return to the Red Keep with him.
A group of young nobles, mostly second sons or illegitimate children seeking to make their mark, accompanied them. Rhaegar welcomed them warmly, memorizing their names and engaging them in conversation.
He learned about their backgrounds and situations, offering words of encouragement rather than rushing to recruit them. This subtle approach allowed him to gradually win their loyalty and trust.
...
The welcome banquet was in full swing.
Nobles gathered in the Red Keep while soldiers enjoyed wine and meat in the courtyard. Rhaegar sat at a table with the children of the nobles, a gentle smile on his lips, listening intently as they shared their dreams. He mentally noted a few promising candidates.
Taking a sip of sake, Rhaegar leaned back in his chair, absently playing with a ruby in his hand. The gem, about the size of a pigeon's egg and carved into an octagon, was warm and smooth against his palm.
He had acquired it from the Red Witch, believing it to be a magical treasure capable of extraordinary feats. However, it had yet to reveal its secrets.
"It can absorb flames, that's all I know for now," Rhaegar murmured to himself, contemplating its potential.
Halfway through the banquet, Grand Maester Mellos hurriedly entered the hall. The elderly man, gasping for breath, handed a sealed letter to Viserys. "Your Grace, urgent news from Stepstones Island. You must be prepared," he said, his voice laced with worry.
Viserys, maintaining his composure, opened the letter and read it silently. As he progressed, his expression shifted from calm to deeply troubled.
Rhaegar, sensing the gravity of the situation, left his seat and made his way through the bustling hall to his father. "What is the news, Father?" he asked quietly.
Viserys's voice was grave. "The Dornish fleet has attacked Bloodstone Island, in collaboration with the Triarchy, destroying all defenses. The Sea Snake and his men have suffered heavy losses."
Rhaegar took the letter and read it carefully. Just two days ago, Prince Dorne had joined forces with the Triarchy to assault Bloodstone Island.
Rhaenys had rushed to aid with Meleys, and Laenor's Sea Smoke had incinerated many enemy ships. However, despite a patrol fleet from Storm's End driving back the attackers, the Sea Snake was injured, and Bloodstone Island was no longer secure.
"Damn it, the Dornish did get involved," Rhaegar cursed. He then turned to his father, his expression serious. "Father, the army of the Riverlands has gathered. Tomorrow, I will ride my dragon and lead our forces to the Stepstones."
King's Landing had received news that the White Harbor fleet had arrived at the Stepstones Islands, with fleets from Oldtown and Arbor en route.
House Grafton in Gulltown was consolidating its power and had dispatched half of their fleet in support. The kingdom had the strength to confront the Triarchy.
Viserys, his face stern, advised, "The Stepstones need support, but the Riverlands army has never participated in a sea battle. Listen to the Sea Snake's advice and don't be impulsive."
Rhaegar nodded solemnly, understanding his father's caution. The kingdom had been at peace for a long time, and the Riverlands army lacked experience, particularly in naval warfare. Their true strength was uncertain.
"Aegon is still on his honeymoon. You'll have to lead alone, so be careful," Viserys urged.
"I will, Father," Rhaegar replied, his resolve firm. The ambush by the Mountain Clans had taught him caution.
Viserys summoned Lyonel to discuss the army's situation. After a brief conversation, Rhaegar was the first to leave the table. As he exited the hall, the second sons and bastards, who had been captivated by his words, rose to follow him, ready to pledge their lives to his cause.
Noticing the shift, Rhaenyra excused herself from the lady she was conversing with and followed, her dress trailing behind her. Harwin Strong, ever vigilant for the princess, also departed with her.
(Word count: 1,202)