The heavy snow stopped falling only last night, blanketing King's Landing and the Red Keep in a glistening layer of silver. The Unsullied, clad in their dark armor, have made King's Landing far safer. Though it's still far from an era when people could leave their doors unlocked at night, the days of brutal street murders and severed heads thrown into the Rainbow Fountain, as they were during Robert's reign, are gone. Slynt, dismissed for corruption, has been replaced by Connington as the King's Landing garrison commander.
The black banner of the three-headed dragon flies above the Red Keep, surrounded now by orderly rows of brand-new houses. Many of the residents here are "Unsullied families"—Unsullied warriors and the children they have adopted. Around 50,000 strong, they form a loyal and prepared line of defense should another fall of King's Landing ever threaten the royal family. Viserys calls this area the "inner city," with its clean streets, stable environment, and improved law and order.
The population of King's Landing itself hovers around 300,000. Farms and small towns have sprouted around the city. Many of the former slum-dwellers have found opportunity here, granted land to farm by Viserys at a tax rate of "one in five." The layout of King's Landing has transformed into concentric zones, dubbed the "one ring," "two rings," and "three rings." This new structure has greatly improved both the city's environment and its food supply.
The traces of the usurper have seemingly vanished, and life has begun to return to normal. Although the chill intensifies, a continuous supply of furs from the Great Grass Sea keeps the people of Westeros warm and hopeful. In the North, grain production has essentially ceased, forcing its inhabitants to rely on hunting for their shrinking food sources. However, the North's exports of coal and charcoal continue to support their needs. Despite the five-year winter, famine has not struck.
"All thanks to Your Grace," many nobles quip, often teasing the people of King's Landing as "treacherous folk" for their alleged greed. Yet, under Viserys' rule, the Seven Kingdoms have gradually stabilized. With a 20% agricultural tax, fewer harvests have been needed, yet enthusiasm among the farmers has soared, even leading to greater grain production than in Robert's time. Astonishingly, even as northern grain production falters, trade in "Coals and Charcoal" allows them to make ends meet, defying the expectations of all.
Suddenly, a shout of reprimand erupted from the garden of the Red Keep.
"Vick, beat him!"
Inside the Red Keep, Dany held a young, brownish-gold dragon about a foot long in one arm. She pointed an accusing finger at her son, Willem, her expression livid.
Nearby, Victoria, Willem's older sister, grinned wickedly and brandished a ruler, a foot long, stepping forward to prevent her brother's attempted escape.
"Give me your hand!" she commanded, her blue-violet eyes bright against the dark purple of her dress. Perched on her shoulder was a young, white dragon with tiny cherry-red spots on its wings. The resemblance between the dragon and the mischievous boy was uncanny.
Willemrys, only three years old, took a couple of cautious steps backward, hiding his hands behind his back. "No! I still need to spar with Father this afternoon, so you'd better spank me instead, sister."
Victoria glanced back at Dany, who was watching with an expression half-sad, half-amused.
With a soft bang bang, Victoria gave Willem a gentle swat on his backside, scolding him, "Next time, don't stuff a dragon inside your pants, got it? You'll smother Brightstream!"
Brightstream was the name of Willem's young dragon companion. The white dragon on Victoria's shoulder was named "Snowdancer."
The two dragons had come from eggs that Viserys and Dany had seized from Renly's hands during a nighttime raid on Summerhall five years prior. Among the family's seven older dragons, only three—black, silver, and green—were female and capable of laying eggs. According to Targaryen lore, a dragon takes at least 15 years to mature and lay eggs, with an adult size of at least twelve meters. Although their dragons were growing, they were still less than eight years old. Another seven years would be needed before any of the Targaryens' dragons could lay eggs.
This was why Dany's anger flared. Although the family now had nine dragons, the seven mature ones were not yet fully grown, and the two younglings were fragile, both small enough to be crushed underfoot. With the Targaryens' recent revival, losing a dragon would be a cruel stroke of misfortune. She had allowed Willem to play with Brightstream to foster a bond, but her son had no sense of how precious young dragons were.
Willem, however, was undeterred. "You should try it too, sister! The young dragon is warm, and if you put it in your pants, you won't have a cold bottom!"
Victoria blushed at his suggestion. At five years old, she was already aware of the differences between boys and girls. Her father, Viserys, had always been forthright in educating his children about such matters, making Willem's remark all the more embarrassing.
"You're worried about a cold bottom, are you?" Dany's composure finally cracked, and she let out a small laugh. "I should bite your little tail off!"
She strode over, took the ruler from Victoria, and placed Willem on her lap.
"Mother! Mother!" he yelped in protest.
Willem's cries soon attracted the attention of Lady Margaery, known as Little Rose, who entered the garden to find out what her friend's son had done. Her own son, Duncan Targaryen, had yet to be allowed near a dragon, and she couldn't help but feel a pang of envy at Willem's antics.
"Your Grace," Margaery greeted Dany with a curtsy.
"Lady Margaery, help me! Help me!" Willem cried, wriggling on Dany's lap.
Seizing the moment, Dany swatted him twice more before letting him go. He scampered off with Victoria close behind, as they ran Margaery slipped her arm around Dany's, chuckling softly.
"Your Grace, I have some good news for you," Margaery said, her eyes bright with excitement.
"What good news?" Dany asked, intrigued.
"Guess."
"Sansa is giving birth?" Dany's concern was evident; Sansa was expecting triplets, a rare and challenging pregnancy.
"No."
"Is Shinelli pregnant again?" Dany continued. Viserys had abstained from relations with his other concubines until Dany gave birth to Willem, securing the line of succession. After that, however, Shinelli had conceived twice in three years, both times with daughters. She desperately hoped for a son.
Seeing that Dany hadn't guessed, Margaery chuckled. "Actually, House Hightower sent three dragon eggs. They claim these aren't fossils."
Dany's eyes lit up. Viserys had once hinted that House Hightower might possess dragon eggs, though she had never believed it. "Why were the eggs suddenly sent?"
"It seems Malora's research went...awry. Her head somehow grew attached to a table, and they hope we can help."
Dany raised an eyebrow. "What?"
"I think it's best to wait for Your Grace to return. I can't begin to address it myself."
Dany thought for a moment. "Set one aside for Duncan, and send the others to me."
"Yes! Thank you, Your Grace!" Margaery's heart leapt. House Hightower's gesture was, in truth, largely thanks to House Tyrell's influence. It was Old Rose who had first shared a "suspicious clue," which eventually led to the eggs' discovery.
As they were reveling in the news of the dragon eggs, two massive shadows swept over the Red Keep—the twenty-meter-long yellow dragon and an eighteen-meter-long blue dragon soaring overhead. Viserys had returned.
A few moments later, he strode into the garden with a silver-haired boy, around thirteen or fourteen years old. The boy was Monterys Velaryon, son of Montford, and blessed with the rare gift of dragon-riding. He had become the royal family's third Dragon Knight. At only twelve, Monterys had been with Viserys since he was seven, their bond almost like father and son. Viserys had no fear of rebellion; Monterys' connection with the blue dragon was one of close friendship rather than dominion.
When Dany spotted Viserys, she practically bounced over to him, her youthful energy showing. She was still only nineteen, after all. Monterys took the special windproof helmet from Viserys, then stepped back respectfully.
Little Rose, watching the couple's closeness, felt a pang of envy. But she knew Viserys saw her as more than a paramour or merely a means of securing heirs; they shared a genuine companionship. Still, even with Shinelli and Sansa's support, she knew no one could replace Dany in Viserys' heart. After all, the two of them had hatched the seven dragons together and led the War of Restoration side by side.
"The fortifications at The Neck are almost complete," Viserys began, "but I need to go to Braavos in a few days."
"Why? Is the Iron Bank still refusing to implement our 'dragon coins'?"
Dragon coins were paper currency Viserys had designed to streamline trade. They had seen success in Westeros and the Hopeful Lands but faced resistance in Pentos, Braavos, and Norvos, all under the Iron Bank's influence. Recognizing the revolutionary nature of paper currency, the Iron Bank feared it might weaken their power, and thus they resisted fiercely. Viserys had dealt with most local obstacles and was ready to take further action.
"Brother," Dany whispered, a playful gleam in her eye. "While you're in Braavos, you might think of a name for our next child."
Viserys froze, speechless.
...
Later, Viserys made his way to Aemon's quarters. In the past two years, the old maester had grown weak, refusing Viserys' offer to extend his life with blood magic. At 105, Aemon was content, especially after witnessing the birth of Willem. His days were now spent discussing books with Tyrion via the enchanted "magic photo."
"Viserys, you're here," Aemon greeted him, his eyes warm with familiarity.
"Your Grace." Tyrion and his wife Tysha, visible with frame on the wall, also offered respectful bows.