Game of Thrones: I Am The Heir For A Day

Chapter 499: Quarreling Between Brother and Sister

Chapter 499: Quarreling Between Brother and Sister

Evening fell over the Council Hall, casting a warm glow across the room. Aemond's face remained impassive as he sifted through a mountain of petitions on his desk, his long hair shimmering like silver-gold in the setting sun.

On either side of him, his siblings went about their tasks. Helaena, resting her chin on her hand, idly toyed with a sapphire, her gaze occasionally drifting to the closed door. The sight only deepened her boredom.

Aegon, sprawled comfortably in a chair at the desk, was more interested in entertaining himself than in the matters at hand. When the maid arrived with dinner, Aegon seized her hand and began a flirtatious conversation. “Why isn’t there any veal? Is the Red Keep so impoverished?”

The maid offered no response, her discomfort evident. Aemond, accustomed to Aegon’s antics, chose to ignore the interruption.

Helaena, looking exasperated, waved the maid away with a dismissive gesture. “Thank you, Princess.”

The maid, visibly relieved, hurriedly retreated, escaping Aegon’s unwelcome advances. Just then, the door burst open, and Rhaegar’s soft voice cut through the air. “Slow down.”

Rhaegar, guiding Rhaenyra into the room, supported her as she entered, cradling a swaddled baby. She had clearly made an effort to present herself well, her blue dress and fresh appearance a stark contrast to the morning’s fatigue.

The maid, caught off guard by Rhaegar’s presence, scurried out of the room, her head bowed. Rhaegar’s gaze narrowed dangerously at Aegon’s slovenly demeanor, causing Aegon to stiffen as if doused in cold water. He quickly stood, offering his seat. “Rhaenyra has just given birth. Why is she out and about?”

Rhaegar’s expression softened slightly as he dismissed Aegon’s concern. “The servants insisted, so I came to see you.”

Helaena stepped forward to assist Rhaenyra, her tone gentle. “Sit down quickly.”

Rhaenyra settled into the chair, adjusting the swaddling cloth with a calm smile. “It’s fine. The Maester said walking after childbirth aids recovery.”

As she spoke, her eyes briefly scanned the cluttered desk. Aemond, pausing his writing, glanced at his siblings and slowly returned the sapphire to its place in his eye socket.

“Is everything going well?” Aemond asked softly, his gaze flickering to the tiny swaddled baby in Rhaenyra’s arms.

Rhaenyra smiled warmly. “It’s fine. It’s a girl.”

Aegon leaned forward eagerly, peering at the baby’s face. With a flourish, he produced a ruby necklace, his pride evident. “A gift for my niece on her birth. A specialty from Volantis.”

“Thank you,” Rhaenyra said, placing the necklace gently in the swaddling clothes. “I’ll make sure she gets it.”

“It’s nothing,” Aegon said, puffing out his chest with a show of wealth, then turned to wink provocatively at Aemond.

Aemond’s disdain was palpable as he looked away, dismissing his brother’s display. The Stepstones, a lucrative hub with significant passage fees, had earned him considerable profit. With the aid of Myr and Lys, Aegon had expanded the docks on Bloodstone and Grey Gallows to attract more ships and increased his revenue by setting up brothels.

Rhaegar, uninterested in the sibling rivalry, addressed the issue at hand. “The Stepstones will see a 15% increase in taxes this year, on top of the existing 30%.”

Aegon’s eyes widened in shock. “30% isn’t enough. I’m barely making ends meet.”

Rhaegar’s lips curled into a smirk. “Myr taxes at 45%, and Lys at 50%. Do you have an issue with that?”

The network of shipping routes connecting the Stepstones, the Sea of Dorne, and the Summer Sea had bolstered the royal family’s wealth. Aegon considered protesting but thought better of it, his thoughts drifting to the wine cellars at the Twins. He gritted his teeth and conceded, “Fine, but just this once.”

Rhaegar’s sly look conveyed his satisfaction. Helaena interjected calmly, “The Stepstones cannot exceed 65% in taxes. The Small Council has already deliberated on this.”

Aegon’s face fell. His heart ached at the thought of diminishing wealth. He sulkily retreated to the balcony, staring at the sky as he mourned his impending losses.

Rhaegar, shifting focus, rested his hand on the chair and turned to Aemond. “What’s the issue that needs addressing?”

As he spoke, Rhaegar’s demeanor became authoritative. Rhaenyra, with Helaena by her side, glanced at the baby, momentarily distracted.

Aegon, unable to contribute to the discussion, continued to brood on the balcony.

Aemond handed over a petition that had been lying on the floor. “There’s news from Driftmark about the succession of the Sea Snake.”

Rhaegar furrowed his brow in thought. “Isn’t he out patrolling the Disputed Lands?”

Volantis had frequently entered the Disputed Lands under the guise of an ally, secretly deploying stowaways and pirates. The Sea Snake, as the Lys Admiral of the Navy, was responsible for countering such threats.

Aemond's gaze, intense and unyielding, settled on Rhaenyra. “You should see it for yourself. The sender is the Sea Snake's nephew.”

Rhaenyra’s lips tightened. “It’s about inheritance again. The Velaryons never seem to be satisfied.”

Rhaegar, taking the letter with a frown, scanned it with evident displeasure. “Malentine Velaryon—how many times has he caused trouble?”

Despite being a nephew to the Sea Snake, Marlentine was surprisingly immature and persistent for his age.

Aemond leaned back in his chair, crossing his legs with a nonchalant air. “What should we do? Just ignore him?”

Rhaegar’s glance was indifferent as he responded, “Send a message to Aunt Rhaenys. I’ll take the children to visit her on Driftmark in a few days.”

Some issues, he reasoned, would resolve themselves with time.

Aemond nodded and turned his attention to Rhaenyra, who was calming the children. “Is she coming along?”

Rhaenyra frowned, but she spoke for Rhaegar. “Can’t I go?”

“As you wish.” Aemond shrugged casually, his tone dismissive.

Rhaenyra handed the swaddling clothes to Helaena, her gaze sharp. “If you’re so concerned about me, you should have married Cassandra earlier and fulfilled the marriage alliance.”

“I have my own plans. Storm’s End will be mine sooner or later,” Aemond retorted, his tone icy.

Aegon looked on in surprise, his eyes darting around as if he were watching a performance.

It was no secret that Rhaenyra and Aemond did not get along. Their antagonistic relationship was well-known; Rhaenyra’s appearances were often followed by Aemond’s absence, and he was rarely seen in public.

Rhaenyra’s thoughts briefly turned to Alicent, locked away in the chapel at Harrenhal. She opened her mouth to retort but was cut off by Rhaegar.

“Let’s focus on Visenya first,” Rhaegar said, placing a hand on Rhaenyra’s shoulder and speaking softly, though his voice carried through the hall. “Children grow up and deserve respect.”

Rhaenyra clenched her teeth, struggling to suppress her anger. Rhaegar’s soothing gesture was a stark contrast to his words. He then turned his attention to Aemond with a calm but firm tone. “Rhaenyra is right. You’ve already completed the Rite of Manhood. Do you still require a tournament to prove yourself?”

Under Rhaegar’s unwavering gaze, Aemond felt like a thorn in his side. He awkwardly adjusted his posture, dropping his legs and sitting up straight.

Aegon, Helaena, and the others were his closest blood relatives, but Rhaegar, the eldest brother, earned his admiration and respect. Rhaenyra, on the other hand, had never been close to him.

Rhaegar's cold stare softened somewhat, but he remained firm. The strained relationship between Rhaenyra and Aemond had worsened three years ago when Rhaenyra proposed joint funding for a dock at Aegon's Stepstones, a move that further strained their relations.

Stonehelm, which had its own dock and was less important than the Stepstones, had no need for such an investment.

Rhaegar sighed, his tone soft. "You really should think about marrying Cassandra. My father has been urging me to make that match for some time."

Aemond turned his head sharply. "Then you should take care of the one behind me. He's been married for years and hasn't fathered a single child."

Aegon, taken aback, protested, "Now you!"

"Quiet," Rhaegar snapped, his disgust evident. "I already have six children, including Visenya. Can't you do any better?"

"Hmph!" Aegon's indignation was obvious.

Rhaenyra glanced at Rhaegar before focusing on soothing her daughter. Helaena, speaking softly, added, “Seven.”

Rhaegar’s eyes widened in surprise. Helaena gently took her niece’s hand, her eyes twinkling with affection.

Rhaenyra’s expression was a mix of complexity and resignation.

Aemond, sensing the tension, shifted the subject. “After our visit to Driftmark, I’ll return to Storm’s End to address this matter.”

“You should have done that long ago,” Aegon grumbled, clearly displeased.

Rhaegar’s eyes flashed with a hint of determination. “Prepare yourselves. The Sea Snake will be back soon.”

With that, the meeting drew to a close, and they left the room.

...

Seven days later, Blackwater Bay.

“Roar!”

A formation of dragons soared gracefully above the vast expanse of the sea. Leading the pack was the formidable Cannibal, its jet-black wings casting a sweeping shadow over the water. Its massive, serpentine body glided effortlessly, dominating the sky.

On either side of the Cannibal flew two dragons with gleaming golden scales. Each was over 30 meters long, their impressive size a mere fraction of the Cannibal’s grandeur.

The azure sky was dotted with fluffy white clouds, creating a stunning backdrop for the aerial display.

Roar!

From the clouds emerged a lean, agile dragon, its slimy, brown scales gleaming in the sunlight. The Mud Dragon darted through the air with quick, sharp movements, its brown wings stirring up the salty sea breeze below.

Whoosh!

Above the clouds, a dragon with light blue scales sailed through the air with an air of effortless grace. Its enormous size dwarfed the Mud Dragon as it glided leisurely, the second largest of the group, trailing only behind the mighty Cannibal, which measured over 100 meters long.

Beneath this impressive aerial display, a three-masted sailing ship with red dragon flags fluttering from its masts drifted in the wind. The ship’s crew, accustomed to the royal entourage, kept a respectful distance from the deck, busy with their tasks but mindful of the dragons' presence.

Since Your Grace ascended the throne, the presence of dragons had become a constant and dramatic feature of royal excursions.

...

Driftmark.

In the harbor of Hull, several dragons flew overhead, heading for High Tide.

The royal ship docked and was first greeted by the Kingsguard, who disembarked with disciplined efficiency.

Whoo~

At that moment, a deep, resonant horn sounded, echoing through the harbor.

Outside the harbor, a majestic and battle-scarred warship with a seahorse flag entered the scene, moving slowly but with undeniable authority.

“It’s the Sea Snake!”

"This is the Lord's ship! Hurry, everyone!"

The arrival of the warship caused an immediate stir among the port's residents. Patrol soldiers rushed to the scene, drawn by the sight of the Lord's personal ship, which was anything but ordinary.

The ship's planks were darkened with grime, and the flag appeared scorched, evidence of a recent conflict. From a distance, the mingled scents of blood and smoke permeated the air.