89 AC. The Red Keep
Two days flew by for the inhabitants of the Red Keep like a single heartbeat, leaving in their wake a trail of rumors, whispers, and the uncertainty so customary for the royal court. The roar of the celebratory feast, where King Jaehaerys had loudly proclaimed the betrothal of his daughter to the Sea Snake, still echoed within the fortress's backrooms. Lords and ladies whispered in corners, discussing the unprecedented ascent of House Velaryon and how the proud Princess Viserra, who had rejected one suitor after another, had finally found a man to her mind. Yet the bustle of the capital was now to be left behind.
The morning of their departure dawned cool and misty. The inner yard of Maegor's Holdfast filled with servants, the baying of hounds, and the clatter of hooves long before the sun could rise over Blackwater Bay. A heavy wheelhouse drawn by a team of four black horses already waited by the main gates, surrounded by riders in grey cloaks - guardsmen of House Velaryon. Beside them, knights of the Kingsguard shifted from foot to foot, their white plate seeming dull in the pre-dawn twilight.
The royal family gathered upon the stone dais to see the travelers off. Queen Alysanne, wrapped in a warm woolen shawl, looked affectionately at her daughter. Beside her stood her sons - Prince Aemon, whose gaze ever remained stern and statesmanlike, and Prince Baelon, who, despite the early hour, looked robust and smiled widely, his massive arms crossed over his chest. Princess Rhaenys stood a little apart, holding her father Aemon's elbow, her dark violet eyes gleaming with mirth.
Behind them all, hiding in the folds of the queen's heavy cloak, stood the little Princess Gael. The girl had scarcely seen her ninth name day. Due to her sickly, gentle, and exceedingly timid nature, Gael rarely appeared before the rowdy court. Loud feasts, like the one that had thundered two days prior, frightened her, and her parents preferred to leave their youngest daughter in the quiet of her own chambers, attended by trusted septas. Viserra had always found it difficult to find common ground with Gael, the elder sister's tempestuous, fiery, and proud nature differed starkly from the quiet submissiveness of the younger. Yet, despite this chasm between their temperaments, Viserra truly loved the girl and tried in her own way to care for her, feeling a need to shield this fragile creature from the cruelties of the wider world.
Corlys Velaryon approached the king and the princes to pay his respects before setting sail. According to the arrangement that the Sea Snake had so firmly maintained in Jaehaerys's solar, he was taking Viserra to Driftmark for only a single turn of the moon's week. It was a brief but necessary journey. Corlys wished to show his bride-to-be her new home, the castle of High Tide, and the town of Spicetown, which under his wise stewardship had grown into one of the wealthiest ports on the Narrow Sea. The princess needed to see the lands she would rule alongside her future husband, and the people who would soon be her smallfolk.
"A safe voyage, Corlys," Prince Aemon said, extending a hand for a firm grip. "The sea is calm now, but the Narrow Sea is treacherous. Guard my sister well. The Crown entrusts you with the most precious thing it possesses."
"My fleet knows these waters better than a man knows his own fingers, Prince Aemon," Corlys replied, accepting the hand-grip. "Viserra will be in absolute safety. In a week's time, I shall return her to the Red Keep whole and unharmed."
Rhaenys, taking advantage of the men finishing the official business, stepped forward and looked archly at Viserra. Upon her lips played that very smile that usually heralded some sharp jest.
"Well, Viserra, mind you spend this time usefully for the two of us," Rhaenys purred, shaking her head. "Mother won't let me go anywhere, always droning on about courtly etiquette and duties. But you are a free bird now, flying off to your island."
Then Rhaenys turned her gaze to Corlys and, not a whit abashed by the presence of her elders, winked at him.
"Take good care of my favorite aunt, good-brother. If so much as a single silver hair falls from her head, I shall fly out on Meleys myself and give your vaunted High Tide a warm welcome."
Corlys merely laughed softly, not in the least slighted by her words.
"Your threat is noted, Princess Rhaenys. I shall endeavor to give Meleys no reason to take flight."
Viserra, meanwhile, dropped to one knee before little Gael to bring herself level with her. The girl timidly poked her nose out from behind Queen Alysanne's shoulder, her large, frightened eyes looking at her elder sister with sadness.
"Are you leaving for so long?" Gael asked quietly, her voice barely a whisper as her fingers trifled with the edge of the cloak.
"Only for a week, Gael," Viserra replied softly, reaching out to smooth a stray lock of her sister's silver hair. "The time will fly by so fast you won't even have time to miss me."
"But you promised," Gael sniffled, her voice trembling with oncoming tears. "You promised you would read to me from that great book in Father's library. The one about Brandon the Builder raising the Wall in the North. We never had time because of that noisy feast. Come back quickly, please."
Viserra felt warmth spread through her breast. She drew her little sister close and embraced her tightly, breathing in the familiar scent of lavender and soap.
"I remember my promise, little sister," Viserra whispered into her ear. "As soon as I return to the capital, we shall lock ourselves in your chambers, and I will read you the entire book from the first page to the last. We shall learn all the secrets of the First Men and the giants who helped build the Wall. But while I am gone, you must be a good girl. Mind our lady mother, and do not let Rhaenys plague you too much with her jests. Is it a bargain?"
Gael nodded her agreement, a faint smile finally appearing upon her pale face. She stepped back, returning to the queen's protection. Alysanne fondly wrapped her arms around her youngest daughter's shoulders and nodded to Viserra, wordlessly conveying her gratitude for the gentleness shown.
The time for farewells came to an end. Ser Ryam Redwyne, appointed by the king as the head of the princess's personal guard for this journey, signaled to the guardsmen. He wore his flawless white plate, and the heavy cloak of the Kingsguard shielded him from the morning damp. Alongside him, Viserra was accompanied by two of her trusted ladies-in-waiting - Lady Lynesse of House Tarly and Lady Jeyne of House Royce, young maidens who looked excited by the prospect of a sea voyage.
Viserra, Lady Alice Velaryon, and the ladies-in-waiting gracefully climbed the steps into the wheelhouse. Servants hastily shut the heavy oak door, which was adorned with the sigil of House Velaryon. The men, meanwhile, took their places in their saddles. Corlys swung easily onto his powerful black stallion. Beside him, his younger brother, Daeron, mounted his horse, he resembled Corlys in many ways but possessed a more open and cheerful disposition. Ser Ryam Redwyne, Ser Adam - the captain of the Velaryon household guard - and another dozen heavily armored riders formed the vanguard and rearguard of the column.
Particular attention was drawn to a massive black beast that followed Corlys's horse without a sound. This was Ares, who, with rare exceptions, accompanied Corlys everywhere. The animal moved with an incredible, frightening grace, its yellow eyes alertly scanning the nooks and corners of the yard. Courtiers and servants shrunk away in fear as Ares passed by, but the beast paid them no heed, loyally following its master.
The column set in motion. The clatter of hooves upon the stone cobbles of the Red Keep rang through the waking fortress. They quickly passed the massive gates and began their descent through the winding streets toward the harbor. The city was only just rubbing its eyes: tradesmen were laying out their wares in the market, street-sellers were clearing the gutters, and the first smoke from ovens rose above the houses. Thanks to the early hour, the streets were relatively empty, and the party reached the royal shipyards without delay.
In the port, rocking upon the mirror-like surface of the bay, waited the Sea Snake - Corlys's flagship, the pride of his fleet. It was a magnificent three-masted ship built of the finest timber, with high sides and sleek lines designed for long voyages. Huge banners of House Velaryon snapped at the tops of the masts. The ship's crew, composed of seasoned sailors burned black by the sun, stood ready, awaiting their captain's command.
The boarding went quickly and in good order. The horses and wheelhouse were left in the care of the port reeves. Viserra, supported by the elbow by Ser Ryam, stepped onto the deck of the ship. She had been aboard ships more than once, but the Sea Snake amazed her with its cleanliness and perfect order: every rope was neatly coiled, the wooden decks scoured white, and the brass fittings gleamed in the sun, which had finally broken through the morning mist.
Corlys personally oversaw the placement of his guests. For Princess Viserra and Lady Alice, the finest cabins in the stern of the ship had been prepared, spacious and richly appointed by the standards of seafaring vessels. The ladies-in-waiting and the guard were housed slightly more modestly, but still with maximum comfort. The voyage to Driftmark, with a fair wind, was expected to take around two days, and Corlys bent every effort to ensure his bride suffered no inconvenience.
As evening approached and the sun began to dip toward the horizon, painting the sea in shades of dying embers, a quiet knock came at the door of Viserra's cabin. On the threshold stood a maid of Lady Alice. She conveyed that her mistress requested the pleasure of the princess's company for supper in her private cabin.
Viserra accepted the invitation. Until this moment, she had never had the chance to be alone with Lady Alice. All their previous meetings had occurred either in the presence of Queen Alysanne or at the rowdy feast, where it was impossible to speak from the heart. The princess understood the gravity of this meeting: she was to spend the evening with the woman who would soon be her mother-in-law, the mother of her husband, and upon how their regard for one another formed depended the peace of her future home.
Viserra made herself ready, choosing a simple but elegant gown of heavy dark-green silk that handsomely complemented her silver hair. Stepping out of the cabin, she found that Corlys and Ser Ryam Redwyne already awaited her in the narrow wooden companionway. Corlys smiled upon seeing her and gestured for her to follow. Viserra walked confidently, assuming that Corlys would also share this meal with them. It seemed only natural to her that a son would be present for a supper between his mother and his betrothed.
However, when they reached the massive oak door of Lady Alice's cabin, Corlys stopped and turned to her with an expression that made Viserra instantly suspect foul play. Upon his lips played that very faint, ironic smirk she had come to recognize.
"Well, here we are," Corlys said, lacing his hands behind his back. "I wish you a pleasant time with your future mother-in-law. I trust the supper will be to your liking."
Viserra froze for a moment, not believing her ears. She rounded her violet eyes and stared intently at him. A slight flutter of nervousness instantly stirred in her soul, mingled with irritation at being left without support at such a critical juncture.
"What do you mean, 'spend a pleasant time'?" she asked quickly, lowering her voice so the servants behind the door would not hear. "Are you not coming with me? Will you not sup with us?"
Corlys shook his head unblinkingly, though he could scarcely conceal his pleased smirk. He clearly found amusement in seeing the usually proud and unapproachable princess so nonplussed.
"I cannot," he replied in a light tone. "I promised my brother a sparring match on deck before the dark sets in completely. Daeron has long asked me to test his swordplay, and now is the perfect time while the sea is calm. So you will have to manage without me."
Viserra frowned, her royal pride stung. She took a step closer to him, her eyes flashing angrily.
"Do not play your jests with me, Corlys," she hissed through her teeth. "Do not anger me. You know perfectly well this is the first time I am to be alone with your mother. You are bound to come with me and take a seat at that table. Postpone your sparring until tomorrow."
"A captain's word is law on this ship, and I am not in the habit of breaking a promise made to a brother," Corlys's smile widened, yet there was that steel in his voice with which it was useless to argue. "Besides, Daeron has prepared himself seriously. I cannot disappoint my brother."
"In that case, I shall come with you too!" Viserra declared stubbornly, tilting her chin up. "I will go with you and watch your bout. It is far more interesting than sitting in a locked cabin."
Corlys swept his gaze over her from head to heel, lingering on her exquisite gown and meticulously styled hair.
"No, I think not," he chuckled. "You did not spend all that time preparing, dressing up, and making yourself fine for nothing. My lady mother will esteem your efforts far more than the sailors on deck who are occupied with the lines. I promise you, you will find her company agreeable. She does not bite, Viserra."
Before the princess could utter all she thought on the matter, Corlys bowed politely, spun on his heel, and strode down the companionway toward the ladder leading to the upper deck.
Viserra was left standing by the door, breathing heavily with indignation. She had no choice but to turn toward the door. Before grasping the brass handle, she turned and looked after her retreating betrothed.
"I shall remember this, Corlys!" she called after him, not loudly, but with distinct clarity. "You will live to rue this trap!"
Watching them, Ser Ryam Redwyne could no longer contain himself. The old knight, whose face usually remained as impassive as a stone wall, snorted quietly into his fist, trying to hide a broad grin. In all his long years of service in the Kingsguard, he had seen Princess Viserra in many guises - proud, willful, regal, and enraged - but never before had he seen her so humanly flustered and nonplussed over a simple family supper.
Hearing his betrothed's words, Corlys paused for a moment, turned, and looked at the guardsman.
"Let us hope, Ser Ryam, that she forgets this before we reach Spicetown," the Sea Snake remarked with a smile.
The knight of the Kingsguard shook his head, mirthful sparks dancing in his eyes.
"If I have learned aught of the royal women in all my years of service to His Grace, Lord Corlys, it is that Targaryen women possess a formidable memory. They are unforgiving, my lord. And they never forget a slight, even the most trifling."
Ser Ryam stepped closer and added a little more quietly, casting a sideways glance at the closed cabin door, "And I will tell you this as well: you are exceptionally fortunate, Lord Corlys. Fortunately Princess Viserra does not have a dragon of her own. Had she an unclaimed dragon close at hand right now, your magnificent Sea Snake would have already been reduced to a heap of smoking embers right in the middle of Blackwater Bay."
Corlys merely gave a cheerful snort at this remark and continued his way topside, confident that his mother and future wife could find common ground without his mediation.
Viserra took a deep breath, taming the emotions storming within her, squared her shoulders, and knocked upon the door. Hearing a soft "Enter," she pushed the door and crossed the threshold.
Lady Alice's cabin was appointed with an elegance that betrayed Corlys's refined taste. Despite the limited confines of a ship, it did not feel cramped. The walls were paneled in light fabric to ward off the damp, and a soft Myrish carpet lay upon the floor, swallowing the sound of footsteps. In the center stood a small round table of dark wood, firmly bolted to the deck against the heavy rolling of the sea.
Everything was already laid out on the table for a light supper. Fresh fruit rested in porcelain bowls, freshly baked pastries with cinnamon and apples radiated warmth on silver platters, and the delicate aroma of freshly brewed herbal tea drifted from an exquisite teapot.
Lady Alice Velaryon rose to meet her guest. At one-and-forty name days, she looked magnificent, enough to make many young ladies at court feel the sharp prick of envy. Time seemed to have spared her face, leaving only the faintest webs of wrinkles at the corners of her eyes, which did not mar her beauty in the slightest, but merely lent her an air of nobility. She possessed classic Valyrian features: her long, thick hair the color of old silver was neatly arranged over her shoulders, and her clear purple eyes looked upon the world with wisdom and tranquility.
"Come in, Viserra," Lady Alice smiled warmly, and that smile instantly dispelled the tense atmosphere. "I am glad you accepted my invitation. Take a seat in the chair, the pitch of the sea is felt least here."
Viserra bowed her head politely and took the offered seat, feeling her trepidation gradually give way to curiosity. Lady Alice sat opposite her and, with a graceful flick of her wrist, poured the fragrant tea into their cups.
"How do you fare, child?" the elder lady inquired, looking closely into the princess's face. "Some people, even those with royal blood in their veins, tolerate the sea poorly. My own uncle, I recall, could not set foot on a deck without his face turning the greenish hue of an unripe lemon. I hope the seasickness does not plague you?"
Viserra smiled, sensing that the conversation was beginning with simple and understandable matters. She took a small sip of tea, which proved surprisingly pleasant to the taste.
"I thank you for your care, Lady Alice, I feel perfectly well," the princess replied. "The sea does not trouble me in the least. My brother often took Rhaenys and me aboard ships in King's Landing, and the blood of Dragonstone must be making itself known. I enjoy this sensation of movement and the sight of the boundless sea stretching to the horizon."
"That is well," Alice nodded, pushing the platter of pastries toward her. "For the future Lady of Driftmark, it is an indispensable quality. Life on the island is inextricably bound to the sea. Your future husband spends a great deal of his time upon the deck. But from your words, it seems this shall be no trial for you."
The conversation flowed effortlessly. They spoke of the weather, of how swiftly the Sea Snake cut through the water, of the latest gossip from the Red Keep, which both found rather tiresome. Viserra noted that Lady Alice spoke plainly, without the false flattery that so many courtiers in the capital were guilty of. Her words bore a worldly wisdom and a genuine interest in her future good-daughter.
After some time, when the tea and fruit were finished, Lady Alice leaned back in her chair, her gaze turning more thoughtful and warm.
"You know, Viserra, looking at you now, I cannot help but remember myself at your age," she began quietly, watching the candle flame within its glass lantern. "My own marriage was also decided by politics and duty, as is so often the case with people of our station. When I was wed to Corlys's father, Corwyn, I was but six-and-ten name days old."
Viserra leaned forward, listening intently. The history of House Velaryon had always interested her, especially now.
"At that time, I was but one of the ladies-in-waiting to your lady mother, Good Queen Alysanne," Alice continued, a faint smile touching her lips. "My father, Lord Alton Celtigar, was an ambitious man, but he had a difficult lot. He was left a heavy inheritance. His own father, my grandsire Edwell Celtigar, committed many shortsighted and foolish acts during his tenure as Hand of the King and Master of Coin in years past, which deeply undermined our house's reputation and impoverished our lands. My father, Alton, devoted his entire life to restoring the honorable name of the Celtigars and regaining the Crown's favor."
Alice paused briefly, as if her thoughts were drifting back to those distant years.
"First, he bent every effort to place me, a girl of four-and-ten, at the royal court in the Queen's retinue. It was a great victory for him. And when I turned six-and-ten, he struck an accord with the then-Lord Daemon Velaryon and married me to his son, Corwyn. I, of course, was not asked. My opinion was not sought, my father simply informed me of his decision as a settled matter."
"And how was it?" Viserra asked quietly. "Did you feel no fear or grievance against your father?"
"There was fear, I shall not hide it," Alice answered openly, meeting the princess's gaze. "But grievance... no. From childhood, we are taught our lot. Highborn daughters are the bridges their fathers build between houses. But I was fortunate. Although I was not well acquainted with Corwyn before the wedding, a mutual fondness arose between us from our very first meeting. He was a true man - strong, forthright, steadfast as a rock. And that fondness, year after year following the wedding, blossomed into a deep, true love."
Alice's eyes grew bright with the rush of memories.
"Never, not for a single day of my life, have I regretted that marriage. Corwyn was a wonderful husband. He gave me three remarkable sons, who became my greatest pride and pillar: my firstborn Corlys, Daeron, whom you already know, and young Veylor, who presently manages affairs on the island. My husband perished a year after Veylor was born. The Shivers took him from me. The pestilence that claimed the lives of so many good people did not pass our house by. He protected our family to his last breath, as befits a Velaryon, but he left me sons in whom his blood and his strength live on."
Alice reached across the table and gently covered Viserra's hand. Her fingers were warm and dry.
"And that is exactly why I am so happy for you, Viserra. Unlike mine, your marriage does not begin with a political pact betwixt fathers, followed by the hope for mutual respect. I saw how you looked at Corlys during the feast. And I saw how he looked back at you. Love lives in your eyes, a true feeling that you managed to see in one another amidst all the vanity of the capital. It is a great blessing, my child. Rarely does a princess have the good fortune to marry for love, to a man of her own choosing."
Viserra felt a lump rise in her throat at the sincerity of these words. Accustomed to the masks and mummery of the court, she found it unusual to hear such open confessions.
"I treasure your words, Lady Alice," the princess said softly, subconsciously returning the squeeze of the hand. "Corlys... he truly is special. He is like no other I have met in King's Landing."
"I know," Alice stroked her fingers affectionately. "He took the best of his father, but went even further. He built a world that belongs to him by right. And I want to promise you here and now, Viserra: I shall always support you. At High Tide, you will find not just a new family, you will find an anchor. I hope that in time, as you grow accustomed to our house, you will call me not Lady Alice, but simply Mother. It will be an honor for me to call you my daughter."
Viserra nodded, touched to the depths of her soul. The image of the stern good-mother she had mentally drawn for herself prior to this evening finally dissipated, yielding to the image of a wise and loving woman.
"And one thing more," Alice narrowed her eyes slyly, and in them flashed that very spark Viserra had so often seen in Corlys. It was now abundantly clear from whom the Sea Snake had inherited his gaze. "I very much hope that I shall not have to wait too long to bounce Corlys's and your children upon my knee."
At these words, Viserra felt a deep flush instantly flood her cheeks. She lowered her eyes to her cup, suddenly finding the pattern on the porcelain exceedingly interesting.
"Come now, do not be bashful," Alice laughed softly, pleased with the princess's reaction. "It is the natural course of life. I am already a grandmother, I have two wonderful grandsons. Little Corwyn, Daeron's son, and Aurane, Veylor's boy. The boys are but a year old now, born almost at the same time. And I would very much like for Corlys's children to arrive as swiftly as possible. A large gap in age between cousins is not the best thing, it will be merrier for them to grow up together at High Tide. From you and Corlys will come true lords and masters of the seas."
Viserra, still battling her modesty, raised her head and tried to lend her voice the utmost gravity, though the blush upon her cheeks still betrayed her feelings.
"All is as the gods will it, Lady... Mother Alice," she replied quietly, tasting the new form of address. "Corlys and I... we are not even wed yet. But I am certain our home shall be filled with children's laughter when the time comes."
Alice nodded in satisfaction, accepting the answer. Afterward, the topic of conversation smoothly shifted. They spent more than two hours discussing the wedding, set for six moons hence. They outlined general plans for the festivities, discussed which fabrics were best ordered from the Free Cities to adorn the halls of High Tide, how many guests the castle could accommodate, and what dishes ought to be served at the feast to astound the capital lords accustomed to luxury. Viserra noted that Alice was taking the burden of the island's organizational troubles entirely upon herself, leaving the princess the right of choice in all the principal matters.
When the supper drew to a close and Viserra returned to her cabin, she caught herself thinking that the evening had left her with a wonderfully pleasant, warm impression. Her fear of the unknown and of a new family had vanished, replaced by the certainty that on Driftmark she was truly awaited and would be loved.
Late on the second day, the silhouette of Driftmark finally appeared on the horizon. The island drew near swiftly, rising from the sea foam with its grey cliffs and green hills. But what presented itself to Viserra's eyes as the ship began to enter the bay made her catch her breath in astonishment.
Before her spread Spicetown. Viserra had heard much of it from the courtiers and from Corlys himself, but the reality surpassed all her expectations. This was no mere port town, but a vast, bustling mercantile metropolis that could rival many of Westeros's cities in beauty and scale. Spicetown was built of pale stone, its streets were broad and straight, unlike the muddy, winding alleys of King's Landing. Above the rooftops rose the towers of the merchant guilds, and the air hung thick with the intoxicating scent of spices, costly woods, tobacco, and dried fish - the smell of wealth gathered from across the known world.
But even more striking was the sea itself. Spicetown's harbor was utterly choked with ships. Dozens, hundreds of vessels of every shape and size bobbed upon the waves: heavy trading cogs from Braavos, graceful swan ships from the Summer Isles, and Corlys's own fearsome war galleys, painted in the colors of the sea. The water seemed alive with the movement of skiffs ferrying goods from the great ships to the wharves. It was a display of House Velaryon's unprecedented might, a might forged by the mind and daring of a single man.
The Sea Snake crept slowly toward the main pier, which was cordoned off by household guards in silver plate. Upon the wooden decking, a group of people already awaited the arrivals.
As soon as the sailors had secured the mooring lines and lowered the wide wooden gangplank, Corlys was the first to step ashore, leading Viserra by the arm. Behind them descended Lady Alice, Daeron, Ares, and Ser Ryam Redwyne with the guardsmen.
The rest of the Velaryon household greeted them at the pier. Foremost stood the twenty-year-old Veylor Velaryon, Corlys's youngest brother. He favored his elder brothers in many ways, but his bearing held more of a scholar's rigor - it was he who managed all the island's ledgers, trade pacts, and taxes in Corlys's absence. Beside him stood his wife, Elisa Velaryon, of House Velroy by birth. She was a comely lady of one-and-twenty with kind eyes, holding a year-old babe tightly to her breast - little Aurane Velaryon, who was curiously blowing bubbles and reaching his tiny hands toward the sea.
A little to the side stood Thea Velaryon, born a Maegyr, Daeron's twenty-four-year-old wife. Like Elisa, she hailed from a noble family of the Free City of Volantis, which showed in her exotic beauty, fair hair, and elegant manners. In her arms was a year-old child - Corwyn Velaryon, named in honor of his late grandsire.
Daeron Velaryon, the moment his foot touched the dockboards, forgot all courtly etiquette. He rushed forward, swept his wife Thea up into his arms, and spun her around, drawing a joyous laugh from her lips. Then he tenderly took his young son Corwyn into his arms, pressed him to his chest, and began to pepper his plump cheeks with kisses. The boy babbled merrily, grabbing his father by his silver locks.
Corlys smiled, watching this scene of domestic warmth. He approached his youngest brother Veylor and embraced him tightly, clapping him on the back.
"Greetings to you, brother," Corlys said. "My thanks for watching over the island. I saw the ledgers before we set sail, you manage affairs excellently in my absence. Without you, our ventures would not fare nearly so well."
"Welcome home, Corlys," Veylor replied with a warm smile. "Affairs proceeded in their due course, but the town awaited its lord. We are all gladdened by your return."
Corlys then turned to Elisa, embraced her gently, and shifted his gaze to little Aurane. He carefully took his nephew into his arms. The formidable warrior, the Sea Snake, before whom the pirates of the Stepstones trembled, now held a babe with such incredible care and tenderness, as if the child were crafted of the thinnest Myrish glass. He rocked the boy slightly, murmuring something softly, and Aurane happily grasped his finger with a tiny hand.
Viserra observed this scene from the side, and a new, hitherto unknown feeling stirred within her heart. She looked at Corlys, at his strong hands that cradled the child so carefully, at his soft, warm smile reserved solely for his kin. In that moment, involuntarily and against her own will, she found herself pondering the future. She pictured how, in time, Corlys would stand upon this very pier in the same manner, but holding not a nephew, but their own child - a boy with the silver hair of the Velaryons and violet eyes, or a girl with skin the hue of the finest porcelain. The thought made her heart beat faster, and a soft, wistful smile appeared upon her lips.
Corlys, catching her look, turned to his family, still holding the babe in his arms, and beckoned Viserra to step closer.
"My kin," he declared loudly and solemnly, addressing those gathered. "Permit me to personally introduce my betrothed. Princess Viserra Targaryen, the future Lady of Driftmark and mistress of High Tide."
Viserra stepped forward, recovering her customary regal bearing, though her smile remained warm and open. Veylor, Elisa, and Thea bowed and curtsied deeply and respectfully, greeting a member of the royal blood.
"It is a high honor to receive you at High Tide, Princess Viserra," Veylor said, raising his head. "Our island welcomes you."
Elisa Velaryon stepped closer to Viserra and looked at her with a smile. Her eyes held no fear of a royal personage, only genuine amity.
"Welcome to our family, Viserra," she said warmly. "Thea and I are overwhelmingly glad of your arrival. Finally, the wives of the Velaryon brothers shall have an addition! It is sometimes difficult for the two of us to weather the men's endless talk of ships, taxes, sails, and trade routes. Now we shall have an ally with whom to discuss far more pleasant matters."
Thea Velaryon nodded, echoing her good-sister's words, her Volantene accent lending a particular charm to her speech.
"Yes, Princess. We have sorely lacked female company at High Tide. I hope we shall become great friends."
Viserra felt the last remnants of her wariness entirely melt away. These young women were receiving her not as a highborn guest from the capital, but as a sister entering their home. It was so unlike the venomous atmosphere of the Red Keep, where a dagger or a piece of slander lurked behind every curtsy.
"I thank you for such a warm welcome," Viserra answered sincerely, shifting her gaze from Elisa to Thea. "I am certain we shall get on splendidly. And please, when we are amongst family, call me simply by my name. Soon we shall be sisters."
Lady Alice, watching the scene from the side, smiled with satisfaction. Her sons and their wives had shown the very wisdom she expected of them. House Velaryon was accepting its new lady with an open heart.
"Well then," Corlys handed the babe back and turned toward the wheelhouses that already waited in the square before the pier. "The port of Spicetown is magnificent, but it is time we made for the castle. The voyage has been long, and our guests require rest."
Two opulent wheelhouses and splendid stallions had been readied for the journey to the castle. Lady Alice, Viserra, Elisa, Thea, and the little ones settled into the carriages, which had been furnished with soft cushions and silk throws. The men swung into their saddles. The massive panther, Ares, fell silently beside Corlys's mount, evoking awe and trepidation among the dockworkers, who followed the procession with long stares.
When the procession rode through the massive gates into the castle's inner ward, Corlys guided his horse toward Viserra's wheelhouse. He dismounted, opened the door, and offered his hand, helping her alight onto the stone flagging of the yard.
Viserra looked about. The castle astounded with its pristine cleanliness, architectural harmony, and grandeur. The pale stone of the walls reflected the rays of the setting sun, painting everything around them in soft shades of rose.
Corlys looked at her, his eyes radiating the pride of a creator who is finally showing his greatest masterwork to the woman he has chosen.
"Welcome to High Tide, Viserra," he said quietly but firmly, squeezing her hand. "This is your new home. Now the servants will show you to your chambers, where you may rest from the road, take a bath, and change your attire. And in the morning, when you have regained your strength, I shall personally show you the entirety of the castle, its halls, the shipyards, and all the secrets of our island. We have a whole week to spend here, and I want you to come to love this place as fiercely as I do."
Viserra looked at him, feeling a wave of warmth and certainty wash over her. She squeezed his hand tighter and smiled.
"I already feel at home here, Corlys," she replied. "And I await the morrow with all my heart."
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