"Boy, where have you been!?"
Aerys suddenly roared, raising his head to reveal a pair of purple eyes filled with gloom, flashing with madness.
He was furious.
At his loud roar, Pycelle's aged body shuddered, and Varys's expression tightened.
Everyone knew that Aerys, known as "Mad King," was very dangerous.
Now the danger was directed at his favorite son.
"The Riverlands, Father," Daeron said.
Aerys gasped heavily and said in a deep voice, "Where?"
Daeron pushed aside the two swords blocking his path and stated with certainty, "The Riverlands. Following your decree, I reprimanded House Blackwood and gained the recognition of the Bothwell families."
He walked toward the iron throne, isolated from the world; although his movements were gentle, they were not slow.
Facing the questioning glances, he continued, "Right now, everyone in the Riverlands must be praising Your Majesty's benevolence and justice, hoping to catch a glimpse of your Dragon Countenance."
Solemnly talking nonsense.
But some people actually believed it.
"Really?" Aerys was stunned, doubting himself.
Daeron affirmed, "Even Count Tywys held your decree in immense reverence, keeping me as a guest in Ravenswood for two months. If he hadn't learned that you summoned me multiple times, he wouldn't have let me go for anything."
"Hahaha." Aerys laughed heartily.
That's right, it should be like this.
I am the King!!
Seeing that the other party had been placated, Daeron breathed a sigh of relief, feeling somewhat bored.
Having figured out Aerys's psychological characteristics, he never worried about danger.
Since childhood, he had been fooling his old father this way.
Don't say that the person was already... mad, and he was still teasing him.
There is a saying in Psychology: communication is the best bridge.
Only by mastering the importance of communication could he consistently maintain Father Aerys's affection for ten years.
Filling the biggest gaps within limited conditions.
After the hearty laugh, Aerys seemed much more energized, beckoning his Second Son to come closer and tell him the details.
Daeron didn't hesitate, stepping up the crooked steps of the iron throne.
When passing the Kingsguard member, he politely greeted, "Thank you for your hard work, Ser Barristan."
"It is my duty, Your Highness." The other party's expression remained unchanged.
Daeron nodded in approval.
Barristan Selmy, known as "Barristan the Bold," was a living legend whose experience rivaled legendary Kingsguard members like "Mirror Shield" Serwyn and "Dragonknight" Aemon.
Just how high was his status?
For instance, among the three Kingsguard present, the Captain of the Kingsguard, "White Bull" Ser Gerold, could only stand below, while Barristan was permitted to stand on the iron throne steps, personally guarding the King whom no one trusted.
In terms of martial arts, he was one of the finest warriors on the entire continent.
Coupled with his virtue and loyalty, he was unmatched.
Anyone associated with such a man benefited, and the King was no exception.
"Father, I will..."
Daeron's voice was gentle. He expertly sat down on the highest step and used fabricated pleasant stories to soothe Father Aerys's strained nerves.
At a crucial point, he took the other party's long-nailed hand and offered to groom him.
Aerys listened intently, allowing his son to proceed.
Daeron trimmed his excess nails, carefully filed them smooth, then stood up to tie his long hair and straighten the tilting Golden Dragon Crown.
Finally, he even held the other party's neck and trimmed his messy short beard.
Everything was so calm, as if it had long been routine.
The young man was quick and efficient, and the task was soon accomplished.
"Even though it's not the first time I've seen this, I still feel it's a miracle."
Varys stuck out his rear, cautiously approached the drowsy Pycelle, and elbowed him.
Pycelle woke up as if from a dream and mumbled incoherently, "Ah? Yes, I support the Prince getting a fiefdom."
Varys narrowed his eyes, and his smile vanished.
What a master of feigning ignorance.
Ignoring the infighting between the two Grand Maesters, the three Kingsguard members stood watch quietly, occasionally stealing a glance at the now well-groomed King.
It must be said that Aerys's appearance was not bad.
Just by looking at the handsome face of Prince Daeron and the looks of the other Princes and Princesses, one could imagine what the King looked like in his youth.
At this moment, Aerys returned to his normal state, his body no longer tense. He relaxed against the iron throne, one hand resting on the armrest made of bent blades, the other supporting the side of his chiseled jaw.
He was handsome, and his gaze was profound, giving off the unique oppressiveness of a high-ranking authority.
Wearing a crown and a purple Ceremonial Robe, his tall figure perfectly showcased the noble demeanor expected of his attire.
If he hadn't stayed indoors year-round, resulting in pale skin lacking color, and frequent fasting causing him to become gaunt, he would certainly possess great monarchical authority.
The young Aerys truly fit that description.
He was not only handsome but also decisive, generous, and favored by the nobles of the Seven Kingdoms.
But as he aged, his jealous and envious nature emerged, revealing a mediocre side.
Especially during the Duskendale Rebellion in 276 AC, he was imprisoned in a dungeon by Denys Darklyn, enduring half a year of humiliation and torment in utter darkness.
No one rescued him.
Count Denys threatened the King's life, stating that whoever dared to attack would lead to the King's execution.
The one leading the rescue forces at the time was Tywin the Hand.
Duke Tywin first laid siege for half a year, and then decided to launch an assault regardless of whether Count Denys released the King.
The enemy could execute the captive King, but he would raze Duskendale to the ground.
Aerys was abandoned.
This included his Eldest Son, Rhaegar.
Upon learning of the matter, Rhaegar never showed his face, seemingly uncaring about his father's fate.
Fortunately, things didn't reach the worst point.
The night before Tywin ordered the assault, Ser Barristan stepped forward, pleading for one night to single-handedly rescue the imprisoned King.
Tywin agreed.
It was that night that Ser Barristan proved his strength and loyalty.
Alone, protecting the rescued King, he carved a bloody path out of Duskendale, completing an impossible rescue.
This is the main reason Aerys is now so paranoid, and why he only trusts Barristan to guard him closely.
Daeron felt a little helpless.
He had only watched the show, which didn't detail so many of Father Aerys's deeds, so he didn't have the ability to warn him with foresight.
In fact, before that event, the other party was still a decent father figure in his impression.
According to what he learned from the old Septas in the palace, when his father was young, he exhibited a volatile, irritable, and ruthless personality.
But after the birth of his many children, especially his Second Son Daeron, his temperament had mellowed considerably.
Who would have thought that a single encounter would revert him to his old self and intensify his madness.
"That's enough. You may go and rest now."
Aerys waved his hand.
Daeron hadn't forgotten his objective; after standing up, he didn't move.
Aerys's face tightened again, and he said mockingly, "I will give you a fiefdom on the Blackwater Rush. It's what your Grandfather left for you."
...Walking out of the hall, Daeron was secretly pleased.
Just then, someone walked toward him.
Tywin Lannister was in his early 40s, with thick golden hair and light green eyes, coupled with a tall and slender physique, radiating a powerful aura, like a sleeping lion.
"The matter in the Riverlands was resolved successfully?"
Tywin stopped, his voice deep and resonant.
Daeron looked straight ahead and left without saying anything.
The atmosphere was subtle, clearly awkward.
Tywin glanced sideways slightly but did not pursue the offense of being ignored, walking straight toward the Throne Room.
From afar, Daeron could still hear that unique voice asking if the King was still present, requesting an audience to discuss matters of state.
In the blink of an eye, night fell.
Tower of the Hand.
The room was slightly small, but the interior decoration was extremely elaborate. The walls were hung with well-tanned Deerskin, the floor was covered with a bearskin rug, and agate wine cups were placed on the solid wood tabletop.
The fireplace glow shone, reflecting two long shadows.
Tywin rested his hands on the armrests and spoke lightly, "The matter in the Riverlands was resolved successfully?"
"Yes."
"It didn't cause dissatisfaction from House Tully or House Bracken?"
"Lord Hoster Tully is displeased with the royal family, but he lacks the courage to openly defy us while pretending to comply."
Tywin laughed heartily, looking very satisfied: "Very good, you handled it better than I expected."
The firelight illuminated the shadows, revealing the person sitting opposite him.
It was Daeron.
"Teacher, you flatter me. It wouldn't have been so easy without your guidance," Daeron gently shook his head, his attitude completely different from the daytime.
He had become the student of his greatest future enemy, a Lannister.
Daeron's mind was clear: he was here to learn.
Tywin's ambition was obvious, but his atrocities against the Targaryen Family had not yet occurred.
This meant that, for now, there were no irreconcilable conflicts between them.
Again, communication is paramount in all things.
In his previous life, he was just an ordinary Graduate Student who hadn't entered society or faced severe pressure.
After awakening his Past Life Memories, he was merely a Prince living in the palace.
A mundane twenties combined with a mundane teens would not produce a Politician capable of playing the game of power.
He needed a Teacher.
Looking across the entire Seven Kingdoms, the most brilliant Politician was right before him.
Tywin Lannister.
Daeron's thinking was extremely clear: to defeat him, he must first observe him, then learn from him, and finally criticize him.
Observing his attitude toward things, learning his ability to solve problems, and criticizing the pros and cons of his different decisions.
To put it bluntly, think what he thinks, and imagine what he imagines.
In the end, become him, and surpass him.
This is the Path to Innovation.
If communication failed and he couldn't make him abandon his ambitions... then he would also possess the Talent to defeat him.
In resolving the conflict between the Bothwell families in the Riverlands this time, Tywin advised him, pointing out that the focus was not on the Bothwell families themselves, but on the inactive House Tully.
Daeron understood immediately.
Leveraging momentum, praising indirectly while criticizing subtly, winning people's hearts... a set of smooth combos that caught people off guard, not only opening up the situation but also making the three houses completely submissive, and even his father couldn't find fault.
"Boy, excessive humility is arrogance."
Tywin's smile vanished, and he said sternly, "Remind me, who resolved this trouble?"
Daeron's lips curled up: "I did."
"Excellent!"
Tywin looked at the student who was hiding in the shadows, praised his wisdom, and said, "Pour me a glass of wine, boy. Next, I will explain your new fiefdom to you."
A student who cannot be revealed publicly cannot be considered one of his own.
But if this student was a handsome Prince eligible to inherit the iron throne and of marriageable age, that was a different matter entirely.