The Streets of King's Landing.
It was morning, and the city was bathed in sunlight. The streets of King's Landing were already packed with people. These commoners had not come to riot; today, they were following King Aegon II.
"Have you heard? His Majesty is going to open the granaries and release the food!"
"What food?"
"I heard it's the batch from Rook's Rest."
"That's right! It was originally meant for the North, but His Majesty said we get priority!"
"Is that true?"
"True as can be! The Shepherd himself told us personally last night! He said King Aegon II would lead troops to Rook's Rest this morning to bring those supplies back to the city! The Shepherd said anyone who follows the King today will get a bag of grain!"
At this moment, the commoners of King's Landing were surging out of Flea Bottom like a tide, passing through the Fishmarket, through the Street of Silk, and congregating toward the southern gates.
Rook's Rest was not far; it sat just to the northeast of King's Landing.
Dockworkers, washerwomen, blacksmith apprentices, and even a few septons in tattered robes, everyone was moving in the same direction.
"Hurry, hurry! If we're late, there won't be any left!"
"There'll be plenty! I heard the grain meant for the Northerners is enough to feed King's Landing for a year!"
"Why should those Northerners get to eat for free while we have money but can't buy food? Why should we starve?"
"Exactly! The Northerners are all joining the traitors anyway. It's madness!"
"Enough for a year? Will it be cheaper then?"
"Cheap? I heard King Aegon said he'll sell it at a fair price! No markups!"
A roar of cheers erupted from the crowd. An old man, being jostled back and forth by the throng, muttered to himself:
"Cutting off the winter stores for the North? The late King... the late King never did such a thing..."
A burly man nearby steadied him.
"Old man, the late King didn't do it, but His Majesty has! His Majesty cares for all of King's Landing. Now that is our good King!"
The old man stopped talking and simply followed the crowd. Currently, the people of King's Landing were half-starved.
Who cared if the Northerners died? Filling their own bellies was what mattered most.
The city gates were already in sight.
-------
The Gates of Rook's Rest.
Aboard the walls of Rook's Rest, Carter's face was currently darker than the stone battlements.
"Kermit, tell me, am I dreaming?"
Kermit didn't answer. He stared at the massive, dark crowd gathering below the walls, his brow furrowed into a tight knot.
"Is that... His Majesty?"
Carter followed his gaze. At the very front of the crowd, a young man in armor sat atop a white horse, followed by a host of guards.
Silver hair draped over his shoulders, his armor was polished enough to show a reflection, and his cloak bore the Golden Three-Headed Dragon on a black field.
It was Aegon.
But that wasn't the point. The point was the dragon circling above his head.
Sunfyre.
The dragon that had been severely wounded at Dragonstone was well again. He was flying.
His golden scales shimmered in the morning light, his wingspan casting a radiant shadow over the earth. Every flap of his wings kicked up a gale.
He flew low, almost skimming the heads of the crowd, his throat letting out a low rumble, not a threat, but a boastful purr.
"The King really brought a dragon," Carter muttered.
"Has our King gone mad?" Kermit cursed. He looked toward the distance.
"Where is Will? Has Will Simmons arrived?"
"I just sent someone to fetch him. He should be, "
Before the sentence could finish, the sound of hooves echoed below the tower.
Will Simmons dismounted with a grim expression, followed by his attendants.
At the gates, Aegon reined in his white horse and looked up at the banners on the wall.
The black field with the Golden Three-Headed Dragon, his banner. But he knew that of the people standing on those walls, not one was his.
"Your Majesty!" A sycophantic voice crawled out from the side.
Aegon looked down to see an officer. Vice-Commander Frey was dressed in brand-new armor, a sword at his hip and a smile plastered on his face as he approached the white horse.
"Your Majesty has come out of the city personally. What great deed is to be done?"
Aegon II had no time for him. Frey wasn't bothered; he took a step back and signaled to the soldiers behind him.
Those soldiers immediately dispersed, pushing into the crowd and shouting at the top of their lungs:
"His Majesty has come to demand grain! For our King's Landing! Anyone who dares stop the King is an enemy of the Crown and every soul in this city!"
A chorus of agreement immediately rose from the crowd. Atop his horse, Aegon II's lips moved slightly, but he said nothing. However, his spine straightened a bit more.
The Master of Coin, Will Simmons, ran up to Aegon and witnessed the scene. His pace faltered. He looked at the agitated crowd.
This was trouble. He took a deep breath, stepped forward quickly, and bowed with formal etiquette.
"Your Majesty."
Aegon II looked down at him in silence. Will remained bowed, forcing himself to speak.
"Your Majesty's presence is an honor. May I ask what orders you have for Rook's Rest?"
Aegon shifted in his saddle, finding a more comfortable position.
"Will Simmons," he said, his voice not loud but clear enough for those nearby to hear.
"I ask you: is there a store of the Realm's grain inside the granaries of Rook's Rest?"
Will's heart skipped a beat. "If Your Majesty refers to, "
"Don't play the fool," Aegon interrupted.
"The batch of the Realm's grain prepared for the North."
Will was silent for a second. "Yes."
"How much is there?"
"A great deal... a very great deal."
Aegon nodded and looked back at the crowd standing behind him. There were tens of thousands of them. A black sea of people that seemed to have no end.
There were old men, children, women holding infants, and cripples on crutches. Every pair of eyes was fixed on Aegon II, shining with hope.
Aegon II let out a sigh, feeling a warmth in his chest.
These were his subjects; he had to do something for them.
"This batch of the Realm's grain," Aegon II turned back to Will, "I want everyone in King's Landing to be able to eat."
Will's face turned white. "Your Majesty, this... this grain was ordered by the Prince..."
"Ordered by the Prince?" Aegon's voice suddenly spiked.
"This grain belongs to the Realm! It belongs to the King! Am I the King, or is he?!"
Will, the Master of Coin, could only lower his head, not daring to answer. A murmur rippled through the crowd, quickly turning into a buzzing roar of discussion.
"His Majesty is right!"
"He is the True Dragon!"
"What does the Prince matter?!"
The soldiers Frey had planted in the crowd were the loudest of all. Aegon heard them clearly, and a trace of indiscernible satisfaction touched his face.
Another set of hooves rang out at the gate. Lord Jasper Wylde, the Master of Laws, rushed out from the city with several attendants.
Seeing the scene, he nearly fell off his horse. He realized the soldiers Aegon had brought were his men.
He dismounted and stumbled toward Aegon. Before he could speak, Aegon spoke first.
"Lord Jasper, you've arrived just in time."
Jasper froze.
"The red mark on your face, I gave you that, didn't I?"
Jasper's face flushed. There was indeed a red mark on his cheek, the shape of five fingers clearly visible.
This morning in the Red Keep, he had tried to advise Aegon against acting recklessly and had been slapped across the face by the King himself.
"It is... yes..."
"Then tell him," Aegon II pointed at Will, "am I the King?"
Jasper opened his mouth, but no words came. Aegon waited, and when no answer came, his expression darkened.
"What? Is my question so difficult to answer?"
Jasper gritted his teeth and turned to Will, looking as if he had swallowed something bitter.
He pulled Will, who had finally straightened up, aside and whispered.
"Lord Will... His Majesty... His Majesty summoned me this morning... He said... he said he wants back the grain that belongs to the Kingdom..."
Will stared at him. "And you agreed?"
Jasper's face grew more pained.
"What choice did I have? His Majesty said whoever disagrees can get out on the spot... After that, His Majesty went to the city barracks and gathered these levies. You have to understand, Prince Aemond is away, Lord Hand Tyland is in the Westerlands... right now, His Majesty holds the most power in King's Landing..."
Will, the Master of Coin, took a breath and turned his head back to Aegon II atop the white horse.
-----
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