The steam could still be felt in the village. She apologized to the citizens, not directly, but with actions. She paid them for the time they would have to spend without work. Her attack on the Greyjoy ships affected not only the vessel but also the lake's wildlife. The fish would stay away from the shores for a few days.
Daenerys let herself get carried away. But the idea that someone would want to steal her dragon... was horrible. That some foolish pirate would dare to try it, who did they think she was?
Stormborn. She was born in a storm; her mother used to talk about it when she was little. A massive storm hit the coast. It was as if the gods were saying out loud that they should pay attention to little Daenerys.
They used to call her that when she was little. Daenerys Stormborn. It served to differentiate her from Daenerys, the daughter of Aegon the Unworthy and wife of Maron Martell. But over time, that title was lost. A sweet and demure princess, what did she have in common with the monstrous storm in which she was born?
Was that why Victarion dared to try to steal her dragons from under her nose?
There were no bones left of the man. Not even his charred magic hand. The dragonfire burned everything.
"Is Jaehaerys all right?" Lyanna asked. They were having breakfast together.
Dany looked at her and nodded. "My husband is fine. I don't know the details, but it must be some plan of his," Daenerys said.
How safe she felt in Jaehaerys' arms, right?
But when her husband is gone... will more men like Victarion appear? Fuck them.
'Let them come. As they did years ago, to seek Daenerys Stormborn. Perhaps this will remind them how I was born,' the princess said in her mind.
That night, before she fell asleep, she turned off the oil lamp without a second thought.
------------------------
"Aegon, are you sure about this?" Myrcella hugged her husband from behind.
The crown prince, soon to be king, nodded. His face remained stoic. He did not allow himself to mourn his father's death. He did not have much affection for him either. He knew his father's secrets; he knew them.
'I could have had another brother,' It always gnawed at his soul.
He was never able to forge a close bond with Daemon, despite his best efforts. His father had other expectations for him. Aegon obeyed; if he obeyed the king, he would become a worthy king himself.
"Yes. Although I'm not sure he'll accept," said the new king. "My uncle is a very busy man," he found himself admiring his uncle, not for the first time.
He was an intelligent, revolutionary man. He was everything Aegon wanted to be. His hand went involuntarily to his chest. There, where the black dragon had torn his flesh, he had only looked at ArgentStone once, but seeing him was enough to discover how incredible his uncle was. If Aegon had half his uncle's mind, he could make the Westeros of the future a paradise. Even Jaehaerys the Conciliator would envy his reign.
But he was stuck with an ordinary mind. He wasn't stupid; he could see the lords conspiring and sharpening daggers to stab him in the back. He could feel the ladies' eyes searching for him to give them a royal bastard. Margaery Tyrell had been looking for him for a long time.
He was king now; he couldn't lose his mind wondering what would happen if he were smarter. A king must not hesitate so much. He would have to make sure he was better than his father.
He couldn't be born again and have a brilliant mind. But he could use Jaehaerys' mind. The King's Hand would make him the second most powerful man on the continent, second only to the king. But part of Aegon told him that his uncle did not care at all about being the king's hand. He had seen him with his daughter; he wouldn't care about the big game. Ah, he wished he had a son at that moment; he would have done everything possible to get Rhaelle's hand for his son.
Even a bastard, she was Jaehaerys' daughter, and his uncle loved her.
"My grandfather is a good choice," Myrcella whispered.
She used to do that. Get more power for the Lannister family. Her grandfather forced her to try. Aegon knew that. Myrcella seemed to hate the idea. She genuinely loved him.
Or so Aegon believed.
Sometimes he spent sleepless nights wondering if Myrcella was truly angry when she followed Tywin's orders. Or if it was part of a ploy to make him let his guard down. If it was the latter, she succeeded perfectly.
"Tywin already has too much power," he said bluntly.
Myrcella smiled in that sweet way that made his heart flutter. Even when doubt tormented his heart, he couldn't deny that he loved her. She was perfect. And Aegon knew that if she decided to stab him in the back, he wouldn't defend himself. He had come to terms with that fact long ago. If she were going to stab him, he would help her sharpen the dagger.
That was not something befitting a king; she would end up being his downfall someday.
One smile from her was enough to make him dizzy, which was why he avoided looking at her.
"So, the Prince of Scrolls. Although men began to call him Kraken's Bane," Myrcella said without insisting too much.
That's how it was, she would repeat Tywin's words and then express her own opinion—torn between duty and love.
'She truly loves me, doesn't she?' Aegon wondered.
"If she accepts," said Aegon.
"If she doesn't accept, you can ask her to name a man as Hand of the King," said Myrcella as an alternative.
Aegon found the idea appealing, but he didn't know how objective his uncle could be. He hated the Lannisters, it was clear, according to the men who said he almost killed Jaime Lannister, the new king's good father.
Tywin told him to be careful with his uncle, but Aegon believed he knew him better than the old lion. Jaehaerys was good, and Aegon did not doubt that if he agreed to be his Hand, he would seek to benefit from it. But he would not be an old man seeking to hoard all the good things in the kingdom. He didn't need to; he could rise on his own.
Tywin was only looking to pit them against each other. He even kept Aegon away from Jaehaerys for his own safety, which will make Jaehaerys think Aegon didn't trust him. "They almost severed Rhaegar's neck with brute force alone. Few men are capable of such a feat," said the old lion.
It was apparent what he meant. And Aegon could believe it. But he didn't care. 'Daeron', if Jaehaerys broke Rhaegar's neck, then he died too quickly to feel what the little baby felt.
"You're bleeding, Aeg," Myrcella's hand closed over his. He had clenched his fists so tightly that his nails had drawn blood.
"I'm sorry, dear," he apologized for worrying her.
"Do you think Daenerys will go to the capital with Jaehaerys?" Myrcella asked quietly.
"Do you miss her already?" Aegon asked.
His aunt and his wife had been friends since childhood. He never knew what had happened between them, but they had grown apart and begun to avoid each other. It was childish gossip that was not worth worrying about.
"Be quiet," his wife said, treating his small wound.
Aegon turned his mind to the impending war.
His uncle Viserys defended the capital. He had been confined to Dragonstone, and the Ironborn attacked the small island first. He defeated them there and then went to protect the capital. It was a swift attack. The Ironborn did a lot of damage, but it would recover in time. Viserys spoke of how ten enemy ships had disappeared, but he ultimately attributed it all to chaos.
The Ironborn came, looted, and then fled—their style.
'A war,' thought the new king. This war would determine whether he was king material or puppet material.
He needs Jaehaerys' mind and strength.