Chapter 24: Legal Reform and the Hidden Dangers of the Three Cities
Within the Council Chamber of the Red Keep, King Jaehaerys I Targaryen convened a meeting of the Small Council.
The Master of Laws, Prince Baelon of Dragonstone, began his report.
"Daemon's City Watch has brought great improvement to the peace of King's Landing. Countless pickpockets, rapists, assailants, and poachers have been arrested and sent to the dungeons."
He added gravely, "The cells are now overflowing. The interrogators and I have issued our rulings: over a dozen rapists shall be gelded. Thirty poachers caught hunting in the Kingswood will either lose their right hands or be sent to the Wall. Thieves shall have their fingers cut off. One man, who dared rob a Silent Sister, will lose seven fingers for his crime."
The Master of Ships, Lord Corlys Velaryon, known as the Sea Snake, nodded approvingly.
"Just punishments, Your Grace. Justice must be seen."
But Prince Daemon appeared unamused.
"I agree with gelding rapists — men without their tools can still labor. But maiming thieves and poachers is folly. If you cut off their hands, they cannot work, even if they truly repent."
The Sea Snake frowned. "If we go soft on criminals, the rights of king and lord alike will suffer. The game in the forests belongs to the crown and to the highborn. Are you suggesting we coddle thieves and poachers, Daemon? That is unlike you."
Daemon replied evenly, "Punishment must be just, not wanton. I propose a reform — a system of penal labor. Those guilty of theft or poaching should labor for the realm, rather than be crippled for life. Let sweat replace blood."
He continued, "Once, in Flea Bottom, I met an old man who had lost his hand as a boy — he stole an apple from a noble's table. Now he can only beg. What use is such cruelty to the realm?"
Queen Alysanne smiled faintly at Daemon's words. "A most compassionate notion. This labor reform would give lesser criminals a chance at redemption. A cripple cannot feed himself — he becomes a burden to both his kin and his king."
King Jaehaerys nodded thoughtfully.
"Daemon's words have merit. These convicts could serve as laborers for the realm — building roads, bridges, castles. It would spare the crown from conscripting honest folk for such toil. Let this be written into law."
He turned to the maesters. "Maester Barth, Archmaester Arral, and Baelon, draft the provisions at once. Begin the reform in the Crownlands, and if it prospers, extend it across Westeros."
Archmaester Arral, who had recently succeeded the ailing Elysar, inclined his head. He was ancient, even more so than his predecessor, and in Daemon's eyes, half-dead already.
Next, the Sea Snake seized the floor, boasting of the Valyrian Fleet's latest victories against the pirates of the Vale.
"Since the death of Duke Ailin and Lord Artes Arryn, the Sistermen pirates have plagued the Vale," Corlys declared. "But my brother, Vaemond Velaryon, commanding the Valyrian Fleet, has crushed them at Crab Claw and Gulltown. Now, what remains of them has fled to the barren Fingers or returned to their hovels in the Three Sisters."
He paused, clearly savoring his triumph. "The Vale now hails the Valyrian Fleet as saviors. Vaemond was welcomed at Gulltown, Old Anchor, and Runestone alike."
Daemon, however, could see the game. Corlys sought to court the Vale's nobility — a move meant to strengthen his family's position for the succession to the Iron Throne.
Yet it was a wasted effort. Prince Viserys had already wed Princess Aemma Arryn, aunt to little Lady Jeyne Arryn, heir of the Eyrie. The line of Baelon already held strong blood ties to the Vale. The Sea Snake's gestures, though grand, would gain him little.
Then Maester Barth, the Master of Whisperers, spoke.
"The might of the Valyrian Fleet has brought quiet to our coasts. The Sistermen pirates are routed, and even the Ironborn raids in the Sunset Sea have ceased."
The Master of Coin, Lyman Beesbury, added with cheer,
"The Stepstones, too, are clear of corsairs. Myr, Lys, and Tyrosh have joined forces — calling themselves the Triarchy — to purge the isles of pirates. Trade flourishes as it hasn't in years!"
Corlys nodded. "I have friends in Lys, Tyrosh, and Myr. We might partner with them to develop the Stepstones further. Their stability will benefit Westeros — and fill our coffers."
Daemon laughed softly. "Open your eyes, my lords. The Triarchy will be worse than pirates. They'll squeeze every coin from the Stepstones until even you long for the old corsairs' return."
Corlys raised a brow. "Daemon, you see enemies where there are none. Better merchants than marauders."
Daemon's gaze hardened. "Myr, Lys, and Tyrosh — the three disobedient daughters of Valyria. When they war among themselves, they are harmless. But united? They command mighty fleets. Once they hold the Stepstones, we'll never drive them out. And should they ally with Dorne… they could strangle all trade in the southern Narrow Sea."
The council fell silent. Even King Jaehaerys frowned.
"A troubling thought," he admitted. "A hidden danger indeed."
Corlys, unruffled, waved a hand. "Your Grace, their hatred for one another runs deep. Their alliance will not endure. Nor would the Dornish stoop to join them."
When the council finally adjourned, the lords filed out one by one — Barth, Beesbury, Arral, and others. Corlys lingered to press another matter.
"Your Grace," said the Sea Snake, "forgive my candor, but Master of Coin Beesbury is ill-suited for his office. I recommend Lord Kevan Grafton, Ser Harry Royce, or Will Arryn — all able men."
Daemon smirked. "All men of the Vale, are they not? New friends of House Velaryon?"
Corlys bristled. "I seek only capable hands for the realm. I once recommended Ser Otto Hightower too, did I not?"
King Jaehaerys smiled faintly, seeing through him.
"Lyman Beesbury may lack brilliance, but he is loyal — and, more importantly, honest. A cat that catches mice yet doesn't steal fish is worth keeping. I will not replace him."
Corlys sighed. "Still, he's far beneath the likes of Riggo Draz of Pentos or Lady Emerald, both of whom once held the same office."
Daemon interjected mildly, "The times are different. When Riggo Draz served, the kingdom was rising from Maegor's ashes. Growth came easily then. But now, after half a century of peace, progress naturally slows. Even Riggo Draz might not outdo Beesbury today. The age makes the man — as much as the man makes the age."
King Jaehaerys chuckled. "Wise words. I've never heard it put so before."
Corlys looked at Daemon in surprise. "Who would have thought the Rogue Prince could speak like a maester?"
Later, as they left the hall, Daemon fell into step beside him. "Lord Corlys, you are the wealthiest man in Westeros. I'd ask a favor — a loan."
Corlys snorted. "Your wife, Princess Gael, took Dreamfyre — the dragon my daughter adored. You defy me at every turn, and now you come seeking coin?"
Daemon smiled disarmingly. "Come now, my cousin. We share both Velaryon and Targaryen blood. A few quarrels aside, we're family. If you refuse, I'll trouble Master Beesbury — or worse, go to the Iron Bank."
Corlys sighed. "Very well. How much?"
"One hundred thousand gold dragons."
The Sea Snake laughed aloud. "Have the whores of Silk Street raised their prices?"
Daemon's smile sharpened. "I wouldn't know. I never pay them. The gold is for my lands — castles, roads, and men. I'm building something, not wasting it."
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