Dragonstone, Dragonmont Hall.
This ancient fortress of dragons was always cold. Even after being restored, the hall still carried a damp chill in the air.
At that moment, the cold felt even heavier, because the queen seated at the head of the table looked colder than stone itself.
Rhaenyra sat beside the stone table, both hands clenched around the letter that had come from Tyrosh.
Daemon stood beside her, one hand resting on the hilt of his sword, his expression equally grim.
Corlys sat nearby with his hands folded, silent.
In the center of the hall, Nettles knelt on the floor, trembling from head to toe.
The ugly girl with black hair and brown eyes, rider of Sheepstealer, was curled into herself like a frightened rabbit, not daring to raise her head.
"Say it again."
Queen Rhaenyra's voice squeezed through clenched teeth, barely containing her rage.
"How did you escape?"
Kneeling on the floor, Nettles stammered out her answer.
"Th-that day, Hugh launched the coup... He sent men to kill me, but I happened to be with Sheepstealer..."
"When Ulf arrived with his men, Sheepstealer drove them back with a blast of dragonfire..."
"I... I wanted to save Prince Lucerys too, but Hugh had already taken control of the castle..."
"H-he stood on the battlements and pushed the prince and the two princesses to the front... I... I really had no way..."
"So you ran?" Rhaenyra's voice suddenly rose. "You just abandoned the people you were supposed to protect?"
"You ran away by yourself?"
Nettles desperately knocked her forehead against the floor.
"Your Grace, have mercy! Your Grace, have mercy!"
"I didn't mean to! I... I wanted to save them too, but... but there was nothing I could do..."
"Nothing you could do?" Rhaenyra shot to her feet and pointed at her, roaring in fury.
"You have a dragon!"
"You have Sheepstealer!"
"You had a hundred ways to kill those traitors!"
"And you're telling me there was nothing you could do?"
Rhaenyra strode up to Nettles and looked down at her from above, fury blazing in her eyes.
"You bastards are all the same!"
"Hugh betrayed me. Saera betrayed me. And now you've betrayed me too!"
"I didn't!" Nettles cried. "I really didn't! I swear it before the Seven!"
"I... I truly had no choice, Your Grace... I wanted to kill those traitors too..."
"But I was afraid Sheepstealer would accidentally hurt Prince Lucerys, Princess Rhaena, and Princess Baela..."
"Lies!" Rhaenyra snapped, blinded by rage. "You had the ability to do it! You should have had complete control of the situation!"
Mysaria and Daemon exchanged glances. Daemon let out a helpless sigh. He knew Rhaenyra needed someone to vent her anger on...
"Swear?" Rhaenyra sneered. "Hugh swore oaths too. Saera swore oaths too."
"Where are they now?"
Nettles could say nothing. She merely pressed her forehead harder against the floor and cried.
Rhaenyra turned away and returned to the stone table. Snatching up the parchment, she tore it apart with all her strength.
The scraps drifted down like snow, scattering across the floor.
"That bastard dares threaten me!" she hissed through gritted teeth. "A mongrel dragged out of the mud dares threaten me!"
Daemon stepped forward and placed a hand on her shoulder.
"Rhaenyra, you need to calm down."
"Calm down?" Rhaenyra shrugged his hand off. "My son is in his hands!"
"And your daughters are in his hands too! And you want me to calm down?"
"You're truly cold-blooded, Daemon..."
But Daemon merely looked at her quietly.
Hugh's betrayal infuriated him as well. The anger still burned inside him. Yet now that he knew Rhaena and Baela were unharmed, he had become much calmer.
Daemon was silent for a moment before speaking.
"And what if you don't calm down? What then? There's nothing we can do right now."
Rhaenyra glared at him, her eyes reddening and her lips trembling.
She wanted to say something, but no words came out.
Then suddenly, she clutched her stomach, and her expression changed.
"What is it?" Daemon hurriedly caught her as she staggered.
Rhaenyra gritted her teeth, cold sweat beading on her forehead. "My stomach... my stomach..."
Daemon's face changed instantly. He turned toward the doorway and shouted, "Maester! Fetch a maester at once! And the midwives too!"
A commotion erupted outside. Several servants sprinted away.
Leaning against Daemon, Rhaenyra gasped for breath. Her face grew paler and paler as sweat streamed down her brow.
Her hand clamped tightly around Daemon's arm, her nails digging deep into his flesh.
"Lucerys..." she murmured. "My child..."
"They'll be fine." Daemon held her close, his voice low.
"I swear it. They'll be fine."
"You have to trust me..."
Several maidservants rushed into the hall and hurriedly helped Rhaenyra away. Her groans gradually faded into the distance before disappearing at the end of the corridor.
At last, the hall fell silent.
Daemon remained where he stood, staring at his arm.
Blood and bruises marked the places where Rhaenyra's nails had dug into him, yet he seemed incapable of feeling the pain.
"Corlys," he said.
Corlys raised his head and looked at him.
"Tell me. What should I do?"
Corlys was silent for a moment before speaking slowly.
"What do you make of Hugh's letter?"
Daemon let out a cold laugh.
"That bastard wants to be Governor of Tyrosh, doesn't he?"
"He's holding Lucerys and the others hostage so we'll hesitate to act against him."
Corlys nodded.
"And what do you intend to do?"
"What do I intend to do?"
Daemon clenched his teeth. A vicious light flashed in his violet eyes.
"I intend to tear his head off with my own hands."
"And then?" Corlys asked. "What happens to Lucerys and your daughters then?"
Daemon said nothing.
Corlys rose to his feet and walked to the window, gazing out across the sea.
"Daemon, I know you're angry."
"So am I."
"But we can't gamble with their lives."
"Then what are you suggesting...?"
"Recognize him," Corlys said. "Recognize him as Governor of Tyrosh. Keep him placated."
"Once we've dealt with the Greens, we can turn around and deal with him."
Daemon narrowed his eyes.
"You want me to bow to a bastard?"
"It's not bowing." Corlys turned to face him. "It's strategy."
"Daemon, suppose you sail for Tyrosh right now and kill Hugh."
"Do you think Aemond would let that opportunity pass?"
"What about the Riverlords supporting us? What about the Vale? What about the North?"
He stepped in front of Daemon and met his violet eyes directly.
"If we move against Hugh now, Aemond will have a free hand to deal with the Riverlands, the Vale, and the North one by one."
"And when that happens, even if you kill Hugh and rescue Lucerys, Rhaena, and Baela, what good will it do?"
"If we lose this war, every one of us will die."
Daemon remained silent for a long time.
Then he smiled.
It was a cold smile, edged with madness.
"That bastard certainly picked his moment well," he said slowly.
"He knows we're trapped between advancing and retreating."
Corlys nodded.
"Which is why we stabilize the situation first."
"Once we've won, there will be plenty of chances to deal with him."
Daemon took a deep breath and nodded.
"Fine."
"We'll do it your way."
He walked to the table, picked up a quill, and wrote several lines on a blank sheet of parchment. When he finished, he handed it to Corlys.
"Take a look."
Corlys accepted the letter. After reading it, he nodded.
"It'll do."
Daemon rolled up the parchment and sealed it with wax bearing the three-headed dragon. Then he pressed his seal into it.
He handed the letter to a servant standing by the door.
"Take this to Tyrosh. Deliver it to that bastard."
The servant accepted the letter and hurried away.
Daemon walked to the window and gazed east across the sea.
Sunlight shimmered across the water, sparkling peacefully beneath the sky.
But inside Daemon's heart, a raging storm churned.
Hugh.
Hugh Hammer.
Very good...
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