Fortunately, the Sea Snake didn't say anything more, but simply informed his granddaughter of the matter. He patted Baena's head and walked back into the crowd.
"Huh." Baena didn't breathe a sigh of relief until her grandfather was far away. The Sea Snake's fame and aura were not something a three-year-old girl could adapt to, even if she tried her best to restrain herself. It scared the living daylights out of her.
"Hehe." Rhaena looked at her sister and smiled foolishly, as if celebrating her popularity.
Baena's face fell and she was completely depressed. She didn't want to be adopted by her uncle and become a Velaryon from a Targaryen.
...
While the Sea Snake was unknown, Aemon was in a crowded place, observing the actions of his family members.
Little Aegon looked at the green smoke after the cremation and wiped his tears alone. Jaehaerys and Daeron walked over, one on each side of him.
After a while, Aemond came from nowhere and looked at the sad little Aegon across the table. Little Aegon had a natural talent for melancholy, and at this moment he looked even more fragile.
Aemond hesitated for a moment, then walked around the table, approached, and patted his shoulder. The comfort between boys is always silent.
"Regret always makes people let go of prejudices." Aemon saw it and nodded secretly.
Perhaps it was because the children of the Black Party were all his children and brothers, and Alicent's education of her children did not cultivate hostility from a young age. The black and green children mixed together. Apart from the colors of their clothes, there was no distinction between the two colors in their hearts.
Tap, tap, tap...
There was a sound of light footsteps beside him. Aemon turned his head and saw Helena's innocent eyes.
"What's the matter?" Aemon asked softly.
"Mother said that she would let me go to the valley for vacation." Helena said blankly.
"Yes." Aemon smiled. "If you want to eat or play anything, I can ask someone to prepare it in advance."
Facing this somewhat naive little girl in front of him, His Royal Highness was rich and generous.
Helena's eyes deepened a little, as if she was seriously considering this proposal. After a while, shaking her head, she said, "I just want to see the scenery of the Vale."
The food wasn't important; she wasn't picky about food. Nor was the destination; Dreamfyre would take her. She simply wanted a change of pace, a quieter environment for a while, because her peaceful life was about to be disrupted.
"Don't overthink it. Just be yourself," Aemon said with a faint smile, emphasizing, "Be yourself, not some role."
"A role?" Helena was confused.
Aemon said no more, turning back to her food... and observing! Helena, like him, possessed the Targaryen gift of dream-walking. The difference was that his was more personal, safeguarding her future. Helena's dream-walking gift offered a broader "perspective," allowing her to see more fragmented scenes.
It was hard to tell which was better. Aemon might have it easier; he could just find a good night's sleep. Plus, with his explosively positive attitude, he could look at everything with a positive outlook, feeling less stressed.
Helena's predicament was more "traditional." The chaotic and disorganized nature of her vision, coupled with the display of talent at a young age, is precisely the result of the effects of an immature mind. If this continues, they will either develop mental problems or become shamans with an unwavering faith in a certain "future." These two types of people are far too common among the Targaryens.
Aemon glanced out of the corner of his eye and saw his uncle rise from his chair. Following his uncle's gaze, he saw Daemon alone in a secluded spot.
"Your children bear a spitting image of their mother. It's both a comfort and a pain. I know how it feels."
Viserys empathized with his grief-stricken brother and sighed, "The gods can be cruel sometimes."
Daemon's face remained stone-faced, unmoved. "Sometimes I'd rather have just two obedient sons."
He had more than two sons. If they all looked exactly like their mother, he would have strangled them at birth.
"..."
Viserys nearly choked at the words and laughed awkwardly, "As you wish."
Seeing this, Daemon chuckled back. The two brothers had a certain rapport.
Daemon leaned against the fence, casually glancing at his brother. He looked much the same as he had a few years ago. Aside from a heavier build and a few more gray stubbles on his chin, he seemed more energetic. He looked nothing like a middle-aged man nearing fifty, brimming with a vibrant yearning for something better.
Viserys felt uneasy under his brother's gaze, habitually twirling the emerald ring on his left thumb. He'd had a good time lately. The kingdom was thriving, his children were growing up. A fulfilling life naturally kept him well-maintained.
But in Daemon, Viserys, the older brother, he could sense a deep weariness. This reminded him of something.
Viserys paused for a moment, then asked, "Do you love her?"
A flicker of nostalgia flashed in Daemon's eyes, and he lowered his head and said, "We were very happy."
Viserys felt a pang of pain.
It was said that at the birth of every Targaryen, the gods tossed a coin to determine whether he would be mad or great. If that were true, Daemon was likely standing upright. A complex mixture. The dragon is his half, and his family is his other half. Now, he felt completely empty.
"You should come back to King's Landing with us. It's time to go home." Viserys said sincerely. He no longer had anyone to worry about in Lys, but at least he still had his blood relatives in the family. Even if he didn't want to see Aemon, the other two children could be with him.
Daemon's face was not good, and he said defensively: "Lys is my home, and it's also the children's home."
"I know we have had many disagreements, but it's been so long, let them go." Viserys felt helpless and said sincerely: "If you want, I can save you a seat on the royal council."
Without Caraxes, Daemon was like a dragon with a broken wing. Restrained in his movements, he huddled in Lys, licking his wounds. The family would accept him back if he didn't cause trouble.
"I want... I want nothing," Daemon suddenly became excited, but changed the subject mid-sentence. He never wanted a seat at the royal table. He wanted so much more, so much so that Viserys had to banish him time and again. Now that what he wanted was long gone, why bother feeling guilty and pitying him? It would only sting his remaining self-esteem.
Viserys was stunned.
"Forget it." Daemon chuckled to himself and walked out of the crowd. His departure would be better for the family.
"Daemon," Viserys called, unable to think of a word to persuade him to stay.
"Uncle is letting his emotions run wild again." Aemon watched the whole thing, feeling both angry and amused. He never took sides in the grudges between his uncle and Daemon. Right was right, wrong was wrong.
Daemon coveted his uncle's heir, and seeking something that was not his was sheer greed. The eldest uncle, sonless, preferred to promote Rhaenyra as heir, while ousting Daemon, a man who had the right to help him secure the Iron Throne. A classic case of slacking off after his work has been done, and then slacking off after crossing the river. The two brothers had a vendetta against each other, each taking advantage of the other. Today's meeting was a case of neither being innocent. One, however, held the rightful position, and with the help of his nephew, Aemon, who championed it, he managed to clean up what could have been a chaotic mess. The other, driven by extreme ideology, sought only to prove himself through his own efforts, becoming a hated and abandoned child.
Aemon, observing from the sidelines, had a clearer perspective. Over the years, he had shifted his focus from King's Landing to the Vale, quietly strengthening his power. When the tide turned, he could quickly take control. As for the fraternal rivalry between the eldest uncle and Daemon, let them have their fun. They loved it.
Helena watched silently, a glass of wheat juice in hand. She didn't quite understand, but she was deeply moved.
"Slurp~~" Helena took a sip from the side of her cup, her eyes following her cousin's gaze. She enjoyed this way of clearing her mind and quietly enjoying the melon.
"Aemon, I've been looking for you."
It was getting late when Rhaenyra came over. Aemon went forward to greet her, massaging her sore shoulders. Living off a gigolo, not bad at all.
Ta-da-da...
Aemon looked back. Helena, holding her wheat juice, inched towards the side like a kitten that had stolen some meat.
"What are you afraid of?" Aemon didn't understand, feeling helpless. It made him look like he was abducting an underage girl. Everyone in the Seven Kingdoms knew that His Royal Highness liked to... ahem...
At night.
Aemon had just finished his meal and was summoned away by his uncle, who had no time to spare.
In the dim room of the Stone Drum Tower. Viserys stood before the burning fireplace, adding a few more logs.
"The Three Daughter's pirates have returned, their ranks amalgamated with Ironborn and Dornishmen. Something's fishy."
Corlys, seated upright on a bench to one side, solemnly explained the reason for the conversation.
"Is it possible I'm overthinking this?" Viserys asked with a smile.
Corlys replied sternly, "I hope so, Your Majesty." Coincidences don't happen all that often.
Aemon, seated on the other side, chin in hand, listened without comment.
"So what do you suggest?" Viserys asked.
"The Stepstones and the Disputed Lands are ours. Anyone who dares to touch them will have their paws chopped off," Daemon said harshly.
"Uh..."
Viserys hesitated, glancing at his silent nephew.
Aemon waved his hand casually.
"You're the king, you're just talking nonsense." Rejected, Viserys said helplessly, "But we don't know who's behind the Three Queens' pirates."
"Braavos, Pentos, Dornishmen..." Daemon answered first, listing them one by one.
Pick one of these people, and then none of them will say a word. If we attack everyone, there will definitely be innocent people. If we attack everyone one by one, there will definitely be some who escape.
Viserys had a headache: "The Dornish have traded with us for many years, and we have never interfered with each other."
"Then catch one and kill the chicken to scare the monkey." Corlys said seriously.
"The Ironborn no longer eat seaweed in the Iron Islands, but go to the disputed lands to burn, kill and loot. Let's take action against them." Daemon was more direct than him.
Viserys was full of resistance. He was the one who wanted to fight the most. But things had come to this point, and it would be unreasonable not to fight.
"Then..."
Halfway through his words, there was a sudden knock on the door.
Knock knock knock -
"Come in!" Viserys was interrupted at this time, and his face darkened.
Creak!
The door opened, and Ser Harrold, the commander of the Kingsguard, appeared with a gloomy face, dragging the disheveled Aemond in.
"Your Majesty, Prince Aemond trespassed into Dragon Mountain and was brought back by the dragon keeper."
---------------
You can read +100 advance chapters on my Patreon
Patreon(.)com/izan24
•TIER 1 you'll get +15 ADVANCE CHAPTERS
•TIER 2 you'll get +40 ADVANCE CHAPTERS
•TIER 3 you'll get +60 ADVANCE CHAPTERS
•TIER 4 you'll get +100 ADVANCE CHAPTERS