89 AC. The Red Keep
Morning in the Red Keep began long before the first rays of the sun could gild the tops of the towers of Maegor's Holdfast. Scarcely had the pre-dawn mist rising from the waters of Blackwater Bay shrouded the stone walls of the fortress, when soundless movement already stirred within its corridors. Servants with fresh torches, bustling scullions hurrying to the lower kitchens, and guardsmen in heavy plate relieving the night watch.
Lord Corlys Velaryon awoke before dawn in his manse and made his way to the Red Keep. He took his place in his solar and began sorting through documents and writing orders for his subordinates at court. Corlys continued to work until there came a quiet, but insistent knock at the oak door.
Ser Ryam Redwyne stood on the threshold. The knight of the Kingsguard looked impeccable despite the early hour: his white plate was burnished to a mirror shine and a heavy wool cloak fell to his very spurs without a single crease. His stern, weather-beaten face remained impassive, yet his eyes betrayed the respect the old warrior held for the young, but already renowned Master of Ships.
"My lord Corlys," Ser Ryam spoke, bowing his helmeted head slightly. "His Grace, King Jaehaerys, has commanded me to find you. He awaits you in his private solar, before the Small Council session begins."
"My thanks, Ser Ryam. I am ready to follow you," Corlys replied calmly, not betraying by a single gesture the excitement or impatience that might have stirred in the soul of a less seasoned courtier.
They walked along the long, cool corridors of the Red Keep. The steps of the Kingsguard knight echoed with a hollow metallic clang against the stone vaults, while Corlys stepped softly, with a confident gait. Heavy tapestries depicting scenes of the Conquest hung on the corridor walls, and a pale morning light pierced through the narrow windows, scattering the castle's shadows.
Along the way, Corlys's thoughts drifted back to the events of the past night. His mother, Lady Alice, had returned from Queen Alysanne's chambers late, when the torches in the manse on Visenya's Hill had already begun to burn low. Her face, usually restrained and regal, shone with triumph. She recounted in detail to her son her conversation with the Good Queen, bringing tidings far more definitive than she had dared hope. Alysanne had stated plainly that King Jaehaerys fully shared her view and had already given his approval in principle to this marriage, seeing a union with the Velaryons as a boon for the realm. Moreover, the queen had openly warned Alice that His Grace would wish to meet Corlys personally the very next morning, before the Small Council meeting, to discuss all terms. Ser Ryam Redwyne's early visit merely confirmed Alysanne's words. Corlys walked toward the king, knowing full well that what awaited him was not merely an audience, but serious matters of state, hidden from the eyes of overly curious courtiers.
Corlys perfectly understood the underlying reasons for what was happening. King Jaehaerys was a wise ruler, perhaps the greatest ever to sit the Iron Throne. His decisions were never dictated by blind affection or momentary impulses. Behind every alliance, behind every appointment, lay cold, pragmatic calculation. The Crown needed the strength of House Velaryon. In recent years, Driftmark had gathered such wealth into its hands as to make even the Lannisters and Hightowers pale with envy. But more importantly, the Velaryons possessed the greatest fleet in the known world. Their ships controlled the Narrow Sea, ensuring the safety of trade and protection from the raids of Stepstones pirates. The Targaryen dynasty ruled the skies on the backs of their dragons, but on the water, they required a reliable, unyielding shield. And the most effective, time-tested way to cement such an alliance between two houses was a dynastic marriage.
When they reached the massive double doors leading to the king's private solar, Ser Ryam Redwyne stopped and addressed the guardsman on duty. The man slipped behind the door and returned a moment later with a nod.
"His Grace is expecting you, Lord Corlys," Ser Ryam said, stepping aside.
Corlys took a deep breath, not particularly nervous, squared his shoulders, and crossed the threshold.
King Jaehaerys's private solar was austere and functional, reflecting the character of its owner. There was no room for excessive luxury here: the grey stone walls were adorned only with maps of the Seven Kingdoms and Essos, drawn on the finest parchment. By a large window overlooking the bay and the buildings under construction stood a massive white oak desk, cluttered with scrolls, state reports, and ledgers.
King Jaehaerys sat in a deep chair. At five-and-fifty, his entire demeanor breathed the calm confidence of a ruler holding a firm grip on the realm. The king's long silver-gold beard, meticulously combed, spilled over his chest, and his purple eyes watched the newcomer with shrewd, searching attention. The king wore a simple doublet of dark velvet, and only a heavy gold chain around his neck served as a reminder of his station.
"Your Grace," Corlys stopped a few paces from the desk and bowed his head respectfully, showing due reverence to the king.
"Lord Corlys," the ruler's deep and steady voice rang out. Jaehaerys answered the greeting with a slight nod and gestured toward a chair opposite his desk. "Take a seat. We have a conversation ahead of us that requires no unwanted ears."
Corlys rose and took the indicated seat, maintaining impeccable posture. He waited, granting the king the prerogative to steer the conversation in the desired direction.
"I have carefully studied your latest reports on the state of the royal fleet and the expansion of the shipyards in King's Landing and on Dragonstone," Jaehaerys began, tapping his long fingers against a scroll resting before him. "Your labors as Master of Ships warrant the highest praise. You have brought the Crown not only new trade routes, but the assurance that our shores are secure. My heir and I are of one mind in evaluating your service. But today I have summoned you, Lord Corlys, on a different matter. A matter that concerns our shared future and the stability of the realm."
The king looked sharply at Corlys, as if trying to read his thoughts.
"My wife, Queen Alysanne, had a long conversation yesterday with your mother, Lady Alice. I am aware, Lord Corlys, that your frequent visits to the Red Keep of late are not solely related to naval matters. My daughter, Princess Viserra, is a girl of tempestuous nature, proud and selective. However, I am told that an affection has blossomed between you that goes beyond mere acquaintance. Is this true?"
"Your Grace, I will not deny the obvious," Corlys answered calmly and openly, looking the king squarely in the eye. "My intentions regarding Princess Viserra are of the most serious nature. It would be my greatest honor to call her my wife, if it is your royal will and I have your blessing. Our meetings were guided by sincere respect and mutual affection, which we sought to protect from the idle gossip of the court."
Jaehaerys smiled faintly, and for a moment, that smile softened the stern lines of his face.
"Viserra is my favorite, even though she has caused Alysanne and me no small amount of trouble with her obstinacy. She has rejected many worthy lords, seeing them as nothing but bloodhounds hunting for royal blood, or spineless flatterers. But in you, she has found a man of a different mettle. The Crown sees great benefit in this union. The two branches that survived Valyria must stand together to maintain peace in Westeros. I give my royal consent to your betrothal to Princess Viserra."
"I thank you, Your Grace. My loyalty to the Crown and to your family is henceforth bound not only by duty, but by blood," Corlys said, bowing his head slightly.
"Now let us move on to matters more mundane, but necessary when concluding a marriage of such significance," the king's tone became brisk and statesmanlike once more. "A Targaryen princess cannot enter her husband's house without a proper dowry to underscore her family's standing. I have discussed this with the Master of Coin. The Crown is prepared to allocate one hundred thousand golden dragons from the royal treasury. Furthermore, for the next five years, your merchant ships shall be exempt from paying half of the port tolls in King's Landing. What say you to this, Lord Corlys?"
Corlys listened to the king calmly. The offer was substantial, yet the figures and concessions voiced did not summon even a shadow of greed upon his face.
"It is a generous gift, Your Grace, and House Velaryon accepts it with respect and gratitude," he replied, meeting the ruler's gaze directly. "However, I shall speak plainly: it is neither gold nor tax relief that leads me to this marriage. My voyages and other financial investments have brought Driftmark enough that we need not seek profit in the royal treasury. It is about the princess herself. After so many years, I thought I was no longer capable of simple human sentiment. But Viserra was able to change that. She made me feel what I considered long lost, and it is this affection that is of the utmost value to me in our union."
"I am, of course, gladdened that you feel this way toward my daughter, Lord Corlys, but you are still too young for such reflections," the king noted, drawing attention to his companion's words regarding age.
"If you only knew how much has happened in the time I have lived, Your Grace," Corlys replied, unable to speak of his past life.
Jaehaerys peered closely into his companion's face. Over his long years on the throne, he had grown accustomed to lords who cloaked their lust for power and wealth in pretty speeches, but the Sea Snake's words carried a rare, captivating sincerity.
"It is pleasing to hear that there is something more behind your actions than a mere desire to elevate your house, Lord Corlys," the king said, genuine approval ringing in his voice. "Men of our station are rarely so fortunate as to wed for love, but when duty to the realm and family aligns with the dictates of the heart, it is a blessing. Viserra is a girl with a difficult temperament, and I am glad you managed to see the true woman beneath it. Well then, since the matter of the dowry is settled, let us move on to the celebration itself. King's Landing and its Sept would be the ideal place for the whole world to witness this union."
It was here that Corlys decided to show firmness. This was a point he had discussed with his mother and which he considered paramount for demonstrating his family's standing.
"Your Grace, with all due respect to the capital and the Sept located here, I must insist that the wedding take place on Driftmark, at High Tide," Corlys stated firmly.
King Jaehaerys slightly raised his bushy eyebrows, and a flicker of mild surprise flashed in his purple eyes, swiftly replaced by a thoughtful expression. In Westeros, it was customary for royal marriages - especially those where a princess of the blood was the bride - to be sealed beneath the vaults of the Sept in the capital. This demonstrated the Crown's majesty, strengthened the Targaryens' bond with the Faith, and allowed the entire court, as well as the smallfolk, to bear witness to the celebration. Corlys's demand ran contrary to established traditions, and the king could not help but demand an explanation.
"On Driftmark?" Jaehaerys leaned back in his chair, lacing his fingers over his stomach. His voice sounded calm, but the weight of authority could be felt within it. "High Tide is undoubtedly a magnificent castle, Lord Corlys. I remember it well from when we attended the funeral of my uncle Daemon, and I know of the fortunes you poured into its construction. However, Viserra is the king's daughter. Tradition dictates that we hold the ceremony here, in King's Landing, where the High Septon may personally bless this union before all the lords of the realm. Why are you so adamant about taking the celebration away from the capital and to your island?"
Corlys did not look away. He had anticipated this question and prepared his arguments in advance.
"Your Grace, I do not diminish the significance of the capital or the blessing of the Faith," Corlys began measuredly, leaning forward just a fraction. "But Viserra is destined to become the lady of House Velaryon and the mother of the future lords of Driftmark. Our subjects must see their future lady marry me at High Tide. It was built not simply as a seat for my house, but as a symbol of the legacy for which my ancestors fought."
Jaehaerys listened closely without interrupting. Corlys continued, sensing that his words were hitting their mark:
"Furthermore, Your Grace, the arrival of the entire royal court on Driftmark, escorted by your dragons, will be a spectacle the likes of which the world has never seen. It will be a demonstration of our combined strength. My fleet will ensure safe and comfortable passage for all the guests. High Tide is capable of hosting hundreds of highborn lords and ladies, and its halls concede nothing in splendor to any other castle in Westeros. I want my future wife to enter her new home as its rightful mistress, to be welcomed by my people on the day of our wedding. This will underscore the strength of our alliance far better than a ceremony in a stifling sept in the capital."
The King remained silent for several long moments, pondering what he had heard. He was a pragmatic man and perfectly understood the weight of political symbols. Corlys's desire to showcase his house's might was ambitious, but at the same time, it served the Crown's own interests. A strong fleet and a wealthy Driftmark were a reliable pillar of support for the Iron Throne. By allowing Corlys to hold the wedding on his own terms, Jaehaerys was granting the Velaryons a tremendous honor, one that would pay for itself a hundredfold in the form of absolute loyalty.
"There is sense in your words. Have it your way, Lord Corlys. The wedding shall take place at High Tide. I will inform the High Septon that such is my royal desire, and I shall send one of the Most Devout to conduct the ceremony, should he himself not brave the sea voyage."
"My thanks, Your Grace. My house shall not forget this honor," Corlys expressed his gratitude, feeling a sense of satisfaction that the most difficult point of the negotiations had been successfully navigated.
"Since we are speaking of High Tide," the king shifted his posture, resting his elbows on the desk, "I presume that preparations for a celebration of such magnitude will take a considerable amount of time. The court cannot simply uproot itself overnight. Moreover, ravens must be dispatched to every corner of the Seven Kingdoms. I set the date of the wedding for six months from now. That time will be sufficient for your servants to complete all necessary arrangements and for the lords to gather."
"Half a year is a perfectly reasonable timeframe, Your Grace. Driftmark will be ready to host the Crown at the highest standard," Corlys agreed. Then, pausing briefly, he added: "However, considering that Princess Viserra is to become the Lady of Driftmark, I would like her to see her future home before we exchange our vows. I ask your leave for the princess, accompanied by a proper guard and retinue, to visit Driftmark in a few days' time. I will personally show her the island, Spicetown, and High Tide. She needs to understand what she will be managing in my absence."
"That is a wise thought. Viserra is accustomed to the Red Keep, and life on the island, even in the most luxurious palace, might seem unfamiliar to her at first. It will do her good to see her future domain. I have no objections. Prepare a ship. Alysanne will appoint suitable ladies-in-waiting for her trip, and Ser Ryam Redwyne will command her personal guard on this journey."
With that, the official part of the audience came to an end. After discussing a few more minor details regarding the logistics of the upcoming visit, Corlys took his leave and departed the king's solar. Striding through the corridors of the Red Keep back toward his own chambers, he felt the tension of the past few weeks slowly releasing its grip on him. Everything had aligned even better than he had anticipated. Now, all that remained was to prepare Driftmark for the princess's arrival.
The Red Keep
A few hours later, in a completely different part of the Red Keep, an atmosphere of restrained but palpable excitement reigned within the spacious chambers of Princess Viserra. The room, adorned with heavy Myrish carpets and light tapestries, was filled with the scent of fresh flowers and costly oils. By a large window, through which streamed the bright daylight, sat Viserra herself. The princess was breathtakingly beautiful, her long, silver-gold hair was woven into an intricate braid bound with thin silver threads, while her violet eyes gazed thoughtfully over the watery expanse of Blackwater Bay. Unlike her usual self, today she seemed uncharacteristically quiet.
Opposite her, settled in a soft chair with a book upon her lap, sat Rhaenys. The daughter of Prince Aemon was only a few years younger than her aunt, yet she carried herself with that innate confidence that betrayed a future ruler. Rhaenys was not reading, her eyes intently studying Viserra's face, noting every subtle shift in her mood.
The silence was broken by the creak of an opening door. Queen Alysanne entered the chambers. At her appearance, both girls rose instantly from their seats, dipping into respectful curtsies.
"Leave us," Alysanne commanded softly to the maids bustling by the wardrobe. The girls departed hastily, closing the heavy oak doors firmly behind them.
The queen approached Viserra and, smiling warmly, took her daughter's hands. Rhaenys remained in her chair, understanding that an important conversation was about to take place, yet reluctant to leave the room - Alysanne gestured that she might stay. In any case, Rhaenys and Viserra kept no secrets from one another.
"My child," Alysanne's voice was tender, yet it held a solemn note. "This morning your father had a long discourse with Lord Corlys. A conversation the king and I have awaited and prepared for. I have come to tell you the Crown's decision. Your father and I have concluded that it is time for you to marry. And we have chosen a husband for you."
Viserra held her breath. Though she knew of Lady Alice's late-night visit to her mother, and though Corlys had hinted more than once at the seriousness of his intentions, hearing the official decision from her mother's own lips was another matter entirely. Her heart beat faster, but she forced herself to keep her face impassive, as befitted a princess of the blood.
"The king's decree is law to me, Mother," Viserra replied, striving to keep her voice from trembling. "To whom have you chosen to give my hand?"
Alysanne stroked her daughter's cheek affectionately, seeing right through her assumed composure.
"Your husband shall be Lord Corlys Velaryon, the Master of Ships and Lord of Driftmark."
The words were spoken, and the mask of restraint on Viserra's face cracked. The princess's eyes flashed with joy, and a genuine, bright smile bloomed upon her lips, one she could no longer conceal, nor wished to. The heavy stone that had weighed on her soul these past months - the dread of being wed to some other lord for mere political gain - was lifted entirely. Corlys was the very man she wanted by her side. He was not simply fabulously wealthy and highborn, he was strong, independent, he had seen the world, he did not fawn before her like the other callow youths of the court, and, most importantly of all, he respected her mind and her spirit.
"I... I am deeply gladdened by this decision, Mother. You and father have shown great wisdom," Viserra said, feeling joy swell within her breast. "Lord Corlys is a worthy man, and I shall deem it an honor to be his wife and the Lady of Driftmark."
Rhaenys, who had been watching the scene, stepped closer and with a smile embraced her aunt and closest friend.
"My congratulations, Viserra," she said warmly. "It is hard to imagine a more perfect match. The Sea Snake is an exceptional man, and I know how highly he esteems you. You will make a truly magnificent match. I am so happy for you."
"My thanks, Rhaenys," Viserra returned the embrace, grateful for her friend's support. "I confess, I suspected things were moving in this direction, especially after I realized Ser Ryam was telling my father of my meetings with Corlys. Yet to hear it for a certainty... it is an immense relief."
Alysanne watched the girls with satisfaction. She was pleased to see her willful daughter so happy and at peace. Viserra had ever caused her much trouble with her stubbornness, but now the queen was certain that Corlys would be able to guide her energy into the proper channels.
"I am glad you receive this marriage with such a light heart, child," the queen said, seating herself in a chair. "Lord Corlys proved a most persistent man. He insisted that the wedding ceremony itself be held not in King's Landing, but on Driftmark, at his ancestral seat of High Tide. Your father consented, recognizing the justice of his arguments."
Viserra raised her brows in slight surprise. A wedding away from court was an unusual step, yet in her heart, she liked the notion. It meant the celebration would belong to the two of them, rather than becoming another tedious diplomatic ceremony for the capital's onlookers.
"The wedding is set for six months hence," Alysanne continued. "We shall have time enough to prepare a fitting dowry and gather the court for the journey. But before then, Corlys has asked the king to release you to High Tide for a few days. He wishes to show you the island and the castle himself, so that you may understand the lands you are to rule. You shall depart by the week's end. I will choose a suitable retinue for you."
"A journey to Driftmark? Before the wedding?" Viserra could not conceal her delight. "That is wondrous news. Long have I wished to see the famed High Tide that everyone speaks of so much."
"It seems your husband-to-be truly knows how to have his way with the king," Rhaenys remarked with a light chuckle. "Persuading Grandfather to let a princess leave the castle before her wedding is no simple task."
"Enough talk, girls," Queen Alysanne rose, her tone turning businesslike once more. "We have much work ahead of us. For now, you must prepare. Tonight, a celebratory feast will be held in the Great Hall. Jaehaerys will personally announce your betrothal to the whole court. Viserra, you must look flawless. The entire royal court will be watching you and your future husband."
"I shall not disappoint you, Mother," Viserra replied solemnly, though joyous sparks still danced in her eyes.
The queen nodded and left the chambers, leaving the girls to discuss the coming evening and choose a fitting gown for such a momentous occasion.
The Feast in the Great Hall
Evening fell over King's Landing, turning the sky above Blackwater Bay into a heavy canvas of slate gray and midnight blue. The Red Keep shone with hundreds of lights, like a giant beacon towering over the city. In the Great Hall, the most spacious and majestic hall of the fortress, an unprecedented liveliness reigned. Servants clad in livery bearing the Targaryen sigil were rushed off their feet, carrying huge platters of roasted meats, baked pheasants, seafood, and flagons of the finest Arbor wine.
The hall was richly decorated. New, vibrant tapestries hung along the walls. Beside the immense banners displaying the three-headed red dragon of House Targaryen upon a black field, there hung today the standards of House Velaryon - a silver seahorse upon a sea-blue field. This visual marriage of the two sigils made it plain to the gathered courtiers that tonight was no ordinary feast. Musicians in the gallery played light, celebratory airs that drowned in the roar of hundreds of voices. Lords, knights, ladies, and influential merchants of the capital had gathered, drawn by the rumors that had already spread through the castle.
At the very center of the hall, upon a raised dais, stood the high table, where the royal family and the most honored guests sat. The table groaned under the weight of exquisite delicacies, yet most of those seated there paid little heed to the food, consumed as they were by conversation and the awareness of the moment's gravity.
At the center of the table, as was fitting, sat King Jaehaerys. He wore a splendid doublet of black velvet embroidered with rubies, and upon his head rested a simple but heavy golden crown. At his right hand sat Queen Alysanne, clad in a gown of deep midnight blue, her neck adorned with a necklace of gold and sapphires.
Next sat the heirs to the throne. Prince Aemon, the king's eldest son and heir to the Iron Throne, spoke in low tones with his wife, Lady Jocelyn Baratheon. Beside them sat their daughter, Princess Rhaenys, her sharp gaze sweeping the hall, gauging the reactions of the courtiers. On the other side of the king sat Prince Baelon the Brave, his manly face bright with a good-natured smile. Beside Baelon sat his sons: Viserys, a boy of twelve, who carefully held his back straight, attempting to look as serious as a grown man, and Daemon, a boy of eight, who was frankly bored, kicking his legs under the table, ever and anon trying to steal a sweet cake from a neighboring platter, for which he received periodic stern looks from his father.
At the left end of the table, as honored guests, sat the representatives of House Velaryon. Lady Alice Velaryon, Corlys's mother, carried herself with regal dignity, her silver hair styled into a strict coiffure, her gown shimmering with shades of silver and green. Beside her sat Ser Daeron Velaryon, Corlys's younger brother, who watched the capital crowd with interest.
And between Queen Alysanne and Lady Alice sat those for whom, in truth, the feast was held.
Viserra sat straight, radiating splendor and confidence. She wore a stunning gown of red and black silk, the colors of her house, but thin strands of pearls were artfully woven into her hair - a clear nod to her future husband's maritime heritage. She looked dazzling, and many eyes from the hall were fixed upon her.
Corlys sat at her right hand. He had eschewed over-elaborate court finery, preferring a doublet of costly dark blue cloth, piped with silver thread along the seams. Across his chest, the heavy chain of the Master of Ships gleamed with a dull luster. He was calm, self-assured, and seemed entirely oblivious to the hundreds of curious eyes fixed upon the pair of them.
Before the feast began, amid the bustle of preparations and the demands of protocol, Corlys and Viserra had been unable to meet and speak in private. Only when they took their seats at the high table, beneath the roar of voices and music, did they find an opportunity to exchange a few words without drawing unwanted attention.
Corlys turned his head toward the princess and leaned slightly closer. A genuine warmth shone in his eyes, concealed from the rest of the gathering behind a mask of polite composure.
"You look striking this evening, Princess," he said softly, so that only she might hear. "Those pearls in your hair... a most subtle nod. The lords in the hall are racking their brains, trying to guess its meaning before the official announcement."
Viserra smiled faintly without turning her head, merely cutting her eyes toward him to maintain the appearance of a dutiful princess listening intently to the king's words.
"I am glad it pleases you, Corlys. To confess the truth, I have been waiting for a chance to see you since this morning. The day dragged on agonizingly long with all these preparations and fittings."
"From what I can describe, those fittings were not in vain, and now, seeing you here beside me, I know the waiting was well worth it," Corlys chuckled, taking a sip of wine while keeping his eyes fixed on his bride-to-be. "I spoke with your father this morning. The discourse was most instructive and, as you see, successful."
Viserra stole a quick glance at him, a mischievous spark dancing in her violet eyes.
"Mother brought me the glad tidings this afternoon. You proved most persuasive, my lord. To insist on a wedding at High Tide... few would dare dictate such terms to King Jaehaerys."
"I am far from 'few,' Viserra. I merely stood ground for what I deem right for our future," Corlys replied calmly. "You must enter your new home in a manner befitting your station. And mark you, my princess..." He lowered his voice slightly, a note of soft triumph slipping into his tone. "Remember our last talk in the godswood. I told you then that the king and queen knew perfectly well of our regard for one another, and would not object if we showed persistence and prudence. You doubted, but my calculus proved true."
Viserra laughed softly, elegantly masking her mouth with a hand as though concealing a yawn.
"I am forced to grant you the right of it, my husband-to-be, but do not flatter yourself - that does not mean I shall always agree with you," Viserra warned him. "Mother said we are to depart for Driftmark in a few days' time. Was that your notion as well?"
"Mine alone," Corlys confirmed. "I would have you see your future home and walk the halls of High Tide before they are choked with hundreds of guests. I want to show you the world I have built. Our world."
Viserra felt a pleasant shiver run down her spine at his words. She favored his confidence, his proprietary yet deeply respectful manner toward her and their shared future.
"I look forward to this voyage with all my heart, Corlys," she said, her words sounding strikingly intimate amidst the din of the feast hall.
Their conversation was cut short as the roar in the hall suddenly began to die away. The musicians in the gallery broke off their melody, and a hush fell over the room, broken only by the crackle of torches in their iron sconces.
King Jaehaerys Targaryen leaned heavily upon the arms of his chair and rose slowly to his feet. The entire hall froze, every eye turning toward their ruler. Even young Daemon ceased kicking his legs and stared curiously at his grandfather. Jaehaerys swept his majestic gaze over the gathered lords, pausing to ensure that his every word would carry the utmost weight. In his bearing and his look resided that unquestioned power that had allowed him to rule the Seven Kingdoms through long years of peace and plenty.
"My faithful lords, knights, and ladies!" the king's voice rang out across the Great Hall, echoing off the stone vaults. He did not shout, yet he spoke with such force that he could be heard in the farthest corner of the room. "We are gathered here today not merely to break bread. It is by no whim of chance that the banners of House Targaryen and House Velaryon hang side by side upon these walls tonight."
A low murmur rippled through the hall. Many had divined the purpose of the feast upon seeing the sigils and noting how closely the princess and the Master of Ships sat, but the king's official declaration changed everything.
"For centuries, our houses have been bound by blood, a shared homeland in Valyria, and a common purpose here in Westeros," Jaehaerys continued. "House Velaryon has ever been a staunch ally to the Iron Throne, ensuring the safety of our seas and the prosperity of our trade. Lord Corlys Velaryon, our esteemed Master of Ships, has proven his devotion to the Crown not only in word but in deed, expanding the horizons of Westeros's influence far beyond the borders of the known world."
The king turned toward Corlys and Viserra, gracefully gesturing toward them with a hand adorned by a massive signet ring - the very one Lord Velaryon had gifted him on the day of his arrival in the capital.
"Today, before the eyes of gods and men, I joyfully and proudly announce the betrothal of my beloved daughter, Princess Viserra Targaryen, to Lord Corlys Velaryon, Lord of the Tides and Master of Driftmark."
Viserra, maintaining her flawless posture, inclined her head slightly in acceptance of the announcement. Corlys rose from his seat and bowed respectfully to the king, then swept his gaze across the hall. A faint, measured half-smile played upon his lips - the look of a man who had won a great, yet fully anticipated victory.
"This union shall strengthen the bonds between our houses and serve as a guarantor of stability and prosperity for the entire realm," Jaehaerys's voice rang out once more over the hall, commanding the attention of all. "The wedding shall take place six moons hence. And by mutual agreement between myself and Lord Corlys, the celebration shall be held not here in the capital, but at the ancestral seat of House Velaryon - at High Tide on Driftmark. I expect every loyal lord to honor this occasion with his presence. And now, raise your goblets to the health of the betrothed! To Lord Corlys and Princess Viserra!"
"To Lord Corlys and Princess Viserra!" the hall answered in one voice.
Hundreds of goblets soared into the air. The Great Hall erupted with applause, joyful shouting, and congratulations. The musicians in the gallery struck up a grand march, and the feast resumed with redoubled vigor.
Immediately following the toast, a line of courtiers began to stream toward the high table, eager to personally offer their respects and congratulate the future newlyweds. It was a dance of flattery, diplomacy, and hidden motives, for which Corlys and Viserra were thoroughly prepared.
The first to offer their congratulations were the members of the royal family. Prince Aemon approached Corlys, grasping his hand firmly and clapping him on the shoulder.
"You have made an excellent choice, Corlys," the heir to the throne said with a genuine smile. "Viserra can be unbearably stubborn, like a true dragon, but she has a good heart and a sharp mind. I have no doubt she will make a magnificent lady at High Tide. And I am gladdened that our fleet rests in the hands of a man now bound to us by blood."
"My thanks, Prince Aemon," Corlys replied respectfully. "I shall bend every effort to ensure the princess's happiness and that the fleet of the Crown remains invincible."
Baelon the Brave, coming up next, was far more boisterous. He laughed, throwing his arms around Viserra, then clapped Corlys hard across the back.
"I told father this seafarer wasn't lurking about the castle for nothing!" Baelon boomed, making no effort to hide his amusement. "Seven hells, Corlys, you've taken the finest pearl from our treasury! Guard her well, or you'll have to answer to me and Vhagar!"
"I would sooner cast myself into the Narrow Sea during a gale than allow a single hair to fall from the princess's head, Prince Baelon," Corlys replied, weathering the heavy clap and smiling back at the good-natured threat.
Young Viserys, mimicking his father, bowed politely.
"My congratulations, Aunt Viserra, and to you, Lord Corlys. May the gods bless your union."
Daemon, however, darted out from behind his brother's back and looked up intently at Corlys, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Is it true you have a ship with black sails at Driftmark that sailed all the way to Asshai?" the boy asked, completely casting aside etiquette. "Will you take me to see it when we come for the wedding?"
Viserra cast a reproachful look at her nephew.
"Daemon, mind your manners. Lord Corlys is no nursemaid to lead you about ships."
But Corlys merely chuckled, dropping to his haunches to bring himself level with the young prince.
"The ship is called the Sea Snake, my prince. And if you carry yourself with proper dignity during the celebrations, I shall personally lead you across her decks and tell you of the monsters that lurk in the Jade Sea. Is it a bargain?"
Daemon's eyes lit up with joy, and he nodded vigorously, entirely forgetting whatever insolence he had intended to utter next before scampering back to the table.
After the family, it was the turn of the lords and courtiers. The Master of Coin, Lord Martyn Tyrell, delivered a long, droning speech in which congratulations were laced with subtle hints at future trading preferences. Corlys replied politely but dryly, offering no promises. Lord Redwyne of the Arbor, whose own vessels made up a substantial portion of the realm's fleet, offered his congratulations with a noticeable, though carefully masked, undercurrent of envy - the ascent of the Velaryons made them the undisputed masters of the seas.
Viserra received the congratulations with unwavering grace. She thanked the ladies for their compliments, accepted wishes for a long life and many hale children, yet her gaze constantly wandered back to Corlys. She saw how confidently he held his ground among the highest nobility of Westeros. He did not fawn before grander lords, nor did he show arrogance to those further down the social ladder. He was simply himself - the Lord of Driftmark, a man who had forged his own path with his own hands and wits, now rightfully taking his place beside the royal family.
Lady Alice, watching her son and future daughter-in-law from her seat, nodded with satisfaction. Her mission had been brilliantly accomplished. The dynastic marriage she had dreamed of since the moment Corlys returned from his final voyage had become reality. Driftmark had secured its prosperity for generations to come.
The feast continued well past midnight. Wine flowed like water, musicians relieved one another, and the dancing at the center of the hall grew increasingly spirited. Corlys and Viserra, having fulfilled their duty of receiving congratulations, were finally able to ease their posture.
Corlys handed the princess a cup of water cut with lemon juice, noting that she had grown weary of the heavy wine.
"It has been a long evening, Viserra," he said, a note of care in his voice. "But the hardest part is behind us. The court knows now, and there is no turning back."
Viserra took the cup, her fingers brushing against his hand for a fleeting moment.
"I look for no way back, Corlys," she replied directly, meeting his eyes. There was no longer any girlish playfulness or courtly pretense in her voice, these were the words of a grown woman who had made her choice. "I shall go with you to High Tide. And I am ready to be your wife."
Corlys nodded, his countenance remaining solemn, though his eyes shone with a deep affection for the princess.
"In a few days' time, we shall leave this castle. I will show you your future home, Viserra, the place where our children shall be raised."
"I shall count the days," she replied, unable to master the smile blooming upon her face.
The feast roared around them, lords laughed, and goblets clashed, but for the two of them seated at the high table of the Red Keep, nothing existed save their own shared future. And the first step toward that future would begin very soon - upon the deck of a ship bound for the shores of Driftmark. The wedding, set six moons hence, would be a mere formality to seal the union already forged in their minds and hearts.
================================================================
A/N
Read ahead on P@treon!
• Navigator Tier: 4 advance chapters & images.
• Master of Ships Tier: 6 advance chapters & images.
[email protected]/MarcelVelaryon777
I'm deeply thankful for any support you choose to provide by joining my paid tiers. It truly makes a difference! A quick tip to save money: Please use a web browser to subscribe instead of the iOS app. Prices on the app are 30% higher due to Apple's commission, so subscribing via browser ensures you get the lowest possible rate!