As they entered the council chamber, the Pentos delegation's eyes were immediately drawn to the throne. The heavyset, black-haired adviser with a golden scale on his chest stepped forward and addressed Viserys in a grave tone, "Your Grace of the Seven Kingdoms, Pentos sends its greetings."
Prince Reggio nodded and smiled, placing a hand on his chest in greeting.
Viserys, holding Blackfyre handle, replied flatly, "Welcome, honored guests of the Free Cities."
It was clear from his demeanor that the king, despite his constant smile, was not truly welcoming.
Prince Reggio's eyes flashed with shrewdness as he took the initiative, "Your Grace, as Prince of Pentos, I come with sincere intentions to establish a friendly alliance with the Targaryen Dynasty."
"Is that so? I thought the Free Cities always looked down on the poverty and backwardness of Westeros," Viserys retorted, raising his head proudly.
With a dozen dragons at his disposal, including the formidable Bronze Fury Vermithor, Viserys had ample reason for his pride. His smile was a mere formality, lacking genuine warmth.
Prince Reggio, usually composed and dignified, found himself momentarily at a loss for words.
The black-haired adviser beside him glanced at Daemon, who was observing the exchange with a hand on his chest, and took over, "Your Grace, the Triarchy is amassing armaments and poses a potential threat."
"The Prince believes that an enemy's enemy is a friend. Pentos and the Iron Throne should be allies."
Daemon nodded in agreement and added, "Indeed, the Triarchy's growing presence in the disputed lands is quite hostile."
The intentions were clear: to target the Triarchy.
Viserys frowned, his gaze shifting to Sea Snake Corlys before settling on the Hand of the King, Lyonel Strong. The proposition was straightforward: unite with the Iron Throne to confront the Triarchy and satisfy certain ambitions.
Lyonel stepped forward, his expression serious, "The Iron Throne will not reject a sincere ally. However, the Triarchy has already suffered two defeats. I doubt they would dare to act rashly again."
The black-haired minister was about to respond when Prince Reggio interrupted, "Hand of the King Lyonel Strong, the Triarchy is allied with Prince Martell of Dorne, who in turn is allied with Braavos."
"The three parties are not just eyeing the disputed lands but the entire Free Cities and sea routes."
Turning to Viserys, Reggio pressed, "Your Grace, the Iron Throne cannot contend with Braavos and Dorne simultaneously. To prevent the flames of war from reaching your homeland, you must prepare accordingly."
The room fell silent as the two sides engaged in a flowing conversation. Viserys frowned deeper with each mention of the Triarchy's impending war. The discussion was primarily led by Hand of the King Lyonel, who weighed the potential gains and losses.
Viserys took a moment to look at his eldest son to gauge his thoughts. Rhaegar, however, remained silent and distant, his mind wandering. The recent incident with the wild dragon of the Smoking Sea had made him wary of the Triarchy's intentions. While an alliance with Pentos seemed advantageous, he was reluctant to become entangled in the web of conflict woven by Daemon.
At that moment, footsteps echoed from outside the hall. Rhaenyra entered, accompanied by her handmaiden Sara. Rhaegar moved quickly to greet them.
Due to her pregnancy, Rhaenyra had opted for a more comfortable outfit: a white lining with a delicate skirt and robe of greenish-white satin. Despite her casual attire, she looked elegant, with red diamonds adorning her neckline, a blouse strung with fine pearls, and a golden necklace adorning her snow-white throat.
Rhaegar raised his hand to assist her, his concern evident. "You should be resting in your bedroom," he said softly.
Rhaenyra placed her hand on his arm and smiled lightly. "I heard there were guests and wanted to join in the fun."
Her pregnancy seemed to have softened her once-strong demeanor, introducing a touch of petulance. Rhaegar sighed helplessly and led her into the hall.
Rhaenyra, likely carrying twins, had a noticeable baby bump, larger than most at three months. Rhaegar's concern for her comfort was palpable.
As the siblings entered the hall hand in hand, they immediately caught the attention of everyone in the room. Rhaenyra smiled, her bright eyes subtly scanning the crowd. The hall was filled with elite representatives of various powers and factions.
Sea Snake Corlys stood with Rhaenys on one side, while Daemon stood with Laena on the other. Despite being blood relatives, the two sides were clearly divided.
Pentos and his party were, without a doubt, Daemon's allies. Among the Small Council members, their positions were telling. Hand of the King Lyonel was engaged in conversation with the visitors, standing alone in front of the throne.
Master of Coin Lyman, a friend of Lyonel, occupied the first seat below. Otto, the Master of Civil Affairs, and Jaspy, the Master of Laws, stood together. Grand Maester Orwyle and Master of Whisperers Tormund were positioned near Rhaegar.
These alignments clearly represented the interests of the King, Queen, and Heir Prince respectively. The hall was also guarded by Kingsguard, and its Commander, Erryk Cargyll, was also present at the Small Council, was always close to the king.
Seeing Rhaenyra's noticeable baby bump, the Pentos delegation nodded in greeting, acknowledging her presence.
Prince Reggio stepped forward with enthusiasm. "Princess, forgive me for not being able to attend your ceremony with the prince. It is truly a lifelong regret."
Rhaenyra, maintaining her dignified demeanor, smiled graciously. "That's quite all right. I will certainly ensure you are well received as a guest of Dragonstone Island."
Dragonstone Island was her domain, and she alone had the authority to extend such hospitality.
"Thank you, princess," Reggio replied. He then beckoned to a noblewoman who presented a wooden box. "This is a gift I have prepared for you and the prince. Please, open it."
With a glance at Rhaegar and his nod of approval, Rhaenyra opened the box to reveal a clear glass candle, the thickness of a baby's fist.
"This is an ancient Valyrian glass candle, acquired from an alchemist," Prince Reggio explained.
Rhaegar's eyes widened as he touched the candle, subtly channeling his magic into it.
A system notification echoed in his mind: "Quest mission activated: Bloodmage's Secret Art Candle."
He opened the system panel to see the details.
[Bloodmage's Secret Art Candle]
Exploration progress: 0.5%
"Thank you for your kindness. This is a remarkable and memorable gift," Rhaegar said, withdrawing his hand and expressing his gratitude.
Prince Reggio smiled warmly. "I am aware of your interest in antiquities. I've also brought an ancient sculpture of the the Mother, one of the Seven Gods, as a blessing for the fetus in the princess's womb."
His words were carefully chosen, aiming to please while maintaining decorum, and addressing their immediate needs.
Rhaegar couldn't help but smile. "Your passion is evident, Prince Reggio."
It became clear why even someone as proud as Daemon befriended him. Reggio's ability to understand and manipulate people's desires was impressive.
With this gesture, he had won favor with both Rhaegar and Rhaenyra, making the conversation flow much more smoothly.
Viserys, growing tired of sitting, proposed, "Prince, I have prepared a reception banquet. Let us continue our discussions there."
"As you wish," Prince Reggio replied graciously.
...
In the afternoon, Dragonmont
The deep, resonant roar of the dragon echoed repeatedly. The pitch-black dragon lay lazily on the lawn, a low growl rumbling from its throat.
"Easy there, still sulking over the failed hunt?" Rhaegar murmured as he faced the massive dragon's head, his hands gently rubbing its rough scales.
The Cannibal's green vertical pupils closed, and its broad, pitch-black wings stretched out, casting shadows that covered hundreds of meters in the sunlight. The dragon continued to feign sleep, its skin wound from broken scales nearly healed, and the bone fracture in its left wing almost mended.
The Smoking Sea Wild Dragon had proven formidable, with superior dragonfire and impressive flight speed. Its massive head and fang-filled mouth were deadly.
A sudden gust from the dragon's wings knocked Rhaegar off his feet, sending him sprawling. Rolling his eyes, he lay on his back, observing the fearsome black dragon. Its head alone was larger than a house, and its thick neck, seven to eight meters in diameter, was covered in steel-like scales.
The dragon's body was far too large to fit in the vestibule of an ordinary castle and Its wingspan seemed to blot out the sun when it flew.
"Roar..."
The Cannibal's green pupils snapped open as it rose to its feet, wings supporting its massive body. A low warning growl escaped its throat. Rhaegar turned to see Tormund, clad in black and white robes, leading a team of Dragonkeepers carrying a three-meter-tall bronze statue.
The statue depicted a compassionate woman, the Mother, one of the Seven Gods. Rhaegar couldn't help but smile. Priests from Harrenhal had repeatedly begged for a bronze statue of the Mother, and now one had been sent to him.
The Dragonkeepers set the statue down, and Rhaegar examined it closely. The ancient carving process was evident, the surface coated with a greenish layer of oxidation that obscured the original bronze and gold color.
As he touched it, a system beep sounded in his ear: "This exploration mission is open, the target is the Ancient Bronze Statue of the Mother Above."
Rhaegar spread a smile and opened the explorer panel.
[Ancient Bronze of the Mother Above]
Exploration progress: 0.3%
"Another relic," Rhaegar thought. "I wonder what treasures there are to explore."
"Leave the statue here on the cliff for now," he instructed. "I will spend the night with the Cannibal."
"Yes, Prince," the Dragonkeepers responded respectfully before departing.
Rhaegar sat cross-legged, leaning against the statue of the Mother as his exploration progress continued to rise. He didn't want to bring unknown artifacts into the Stone Drum Tower. Besides, there were other reasons.
"Rhaenyra is so intense," he muttered, holding his forehead. Grand Maester Orwyle had mentioned that a woman's desires might increase during pregnancy. Since the ceremony, Rhaenyra had sought his company for three consecutive nights. Fearing for her condition, he had to be gentle, but holding back left him exhausted.
If he didn't take a break, the dark circles under his eyes would return.
"Prince, Syrio delivered news about Pentos and Braavos," Tormund said, handing him a letter.
Rhaegar read the letter, his expression growing serious.
The first sentence read: The Smoking Sea Wild Dragon appeared in the Lyseni waters, and the fishermen claimed that the dragon's blood scalded the fish and shrimp in the sea.
(Word count: 1,769)