The wrath of the dragon reemerged and swiftly spread across the Seven Kingdoms.
King's Landing.
Rumors ran wild among the common folk. People debated how many Dornishmen the Crown Prince had slain and how many battles he had won.
In the most chaotic part of Flea Bottom, orphans exaggerated tales about Dragonstone.
The latest story claimed that countless Dornish corpses were buried beneath the mountain, suppressing the vengeful spirits of the rebels.
The people, unable to discern truth from fiction, spread hearsay.
They did not know how the war with the Three Daughters began, nor when it would end.
They did not even know why Dorne rebelled.
They only knew one thing:
Rhaegar Targaryen was a brave and formidable warrior, and Prince Martell of Dorne had bowed in submission.
Dorne had finally sworn fealty to the Iron Throne.
The Seven Kingdoms of Westeros were now fully under the rule of House Targaryen.
---
The Red Keep.
The King's Chambers.
A group of councilors stood at the door, peering inside through the open doorway.
Viserys lay unconscious on the bed, his face deathly pale, beads of cold sweat forming on his forehead.
"Viserys, are you alright?"
Alicent sat by the bedside, wringing out a damp cloth and gently wiping his face as she softly called out, "Wake up, your council is waiting for you."
"..."
Viserys frowned, seeming irritated by the noise.
Alicent grew increasingly worried and couldn't help but complain, "I told you not to go to war, but you wouldn't listen."
She muttered to herself for a while, then tidied up the washbasin and stood up.
Before leaving, she sighed helplessly. "Get better soon—the kingdom needs you."
With that, she carried the basin and stepped out of the room.
---
Outside the Chamber.
Ser Lyonel looked grim as he asked in a low voice, "No signs of improvement?"
"None."
Alicent shook her head and sighed. "Ever since he returned to King's Landing, he's been in a constant state of drowsiness, unconscious more than he is awake."
"This is not good news," Lyonel said, his brows furrowed.
A house cannot go a day without its master, and a kingdom cannot go a day without its king.
With the king incapacitated, even the Small Council could not function properly.
Otto closed the chamber doors and changed the subject. "His Grace needs rest. If there's anything pressing, we should discuss it in council."
Only then did Alicent come to her senses and instruct the Kingsguard, Ser Lorent and Ser Steffon, to guard the chamber carefully.
Seeing this, Lyonel did not press the matter further and instead suggested, "Let's convene in the council chamber. We should also invite Princess Rhaenyra."
Alicent was taken aback. "Rhaenyra is seven months pregnant. It's best not to disturb her."
When Viserys was brought back to King's Landing, Rhaenyra had also returned from Dragonstone.
Lyonel did not respond and instead turned to Grand Maester Orwyle.
Orwyle nodded obediently. "The princess's pregnancy is stable, and handling state affairs should not be an issue."
Alicent's brows knitted together—she understood the implication.
Handling state affairs.
With Viserys bedridden and Rhaegar off fighting in Dorne, Princess Rhaenyra's position now overshadowed that of the queen herself.
After thinking it over, Alicent found no valid reason to refuse and reluctantly relented. "Fine, let's proceed."
She turned and left, using the excuse of changing her clothes.
Otto gave Lyonel a polite nod before following his daughter.
Soon, father and daughter disappeared down the corridor.
Lyonel and the others exchanged glances before making their way to the council chamber.
On the way, they spoke in hushed tones.
"The king's condition is bad news for the realm."
"Watch your words. His Grace will recover."
"Based on my diagnosis, His Grace has suffered extreme shock, resulting in trauma. Physically, he is unharmed—it's akin to a mild fever."
"Targaryens do not suffer from fevers, nor do they fall into unconsciousness without cause."
Lyonel's tone grew displeased.
Orwyle halted and said solemnly, "This is a matter of both mind and body—medicine alone cannot cure it."
He did not appreciate having his expertise questioned.
"My apologies. I did not mean to doubt you."
Lyonel realized he had spoken too harshly.
"It's fine," Orwyle replied.
The Maelor incident was too horrifying, and it was only natural for the Grand Maester's credibility to be scrutinized.
Lyonel sighed deeply. After some inner struggle, he gritted his teeth and said, "Gentlemen, with His Grace remaining unconscious, we must prepare for the worst."
"What kind of preparation?" Jasper's interest was piqued.
Lyonel shot him a glance and said bluntly, "Viserys is my king and also my longtime friend. I do not wish him any harm."
Pausing for a moment, he continued, "But if the day comes when he can no longer rule—or worse, does not wake at all—we must have a successor ready to immediately take the Iron Throne."
"Wait a moment."
Lord Lyman interrupted, his aged face filled with surprise. "We already have the perfect heir. He's in Dorne."
"Prince Rhaegar has proven himself in battle—no one would dare challenge him."
Jasper shrugged and smirked. He had almost ended up on the Crown Prince's bad side once.
"I understand what you mean, but times have changed."
Lyonel's expression was serious. "Braavos watches the Narrow Sea, remnants of the Three Daughters lurk in the shadows, and now Dorne is in rebellion. The kingdom is in chaos—this is when accidents happen most easily."
At those words, the room fell silent.
A great heir was not difficult to find—House Targaryen had produced two in the previous generation alone.
What a pity.
One was assassinated in the tent, and the other died of abdominal swelling.
Leonor stated his opinion: "I propose recalling the Crown Prince to ensure a smooth succession to the throne."
A statesman's words—cautious and weighty.
Linman hesitated for a moment. "The Prince is campaigning in Dorne and has already begun the second wave of Dragon's Wrath. He won't give up so easily."
Leonor responded, "Lord Corlys is stationed in Sunspear, with Prince Daemon and Princess Rhaenys. Dorne won't be able to stir up much trouble for long."
"That won't do."
Linman still found it inappropriate and firmly stated, "The conquest of Dorne must be completed by the heir himself. It cannot be left to others."
Leonor countered, "If His Majesty encounters any mishap, the Prince must be present immediately."
"Do you think someone would dare to act recklessly?"
Linman, whose mind had been sluggish, suddenly regained his sharpness.
Leonor remained silent but conveyed his stance.
The group fell into silence once again, exchanging glances.
In theory, obstructing the Crown Prince's succession was impossible.
But what if...
What if someone lost their mind and committed an act of folly that would disgrace the royal family?
For a long moment, no one spoke.
Finally, Tormond, who had remained silent until now, broke the silence with a smile. "Gentlemen, His Majesty is merely asleep, not ill. Perhaps we are overreacting."
"This is the necessary preparation!"
Leonor said urgently.
Tormond's expression grew solemn, and his eyes suddenly rolled back, staring directly at Leonor with a chilling intensity. His voice was thick and eerie: "I am the Master of Whisperers. Nothing will happen in the Red Keep."
He stepped forward. His thin, reed-like frame stood in stark contrast to Leonor's bulky figure.
Leonor swallowed hard, a shiver running down his spine under the gaze of those pale eyes.
Tormond traced the Valyrian steel badge on his chest and asked, "Or do you truly believe that Prince Rhaegar, known as the Young Dragon King, is just an ordinary man?"
"This..."
Leonor was at a loss for words.
Of course, Rhaegar was no ordinary man. He had never met anyone more enigmatic than the Crown Prince.
A rare collection of Valyrian steel weapons, each one seemingly appearing out of nowhere.
The black dragonstone used to restore Harrenhal—crafted with mere words of incantation.
And the latest news—at the ruins of Yronwood, the Crown Prince had forged a towering Dragonstone peak, hailed as the Targaryen Dragon King's Altar.
Tormond's face remained stiff, radiating an ominous presence as he stated, "If anything happens in King's Landing, I will ensure the Prince returns immediately."
A month ago, Rhaegar had already sent him a message:
Unless the sky falls, do not interfere with my Dragon's Wrath.
The Red Keep had eyes and ears everywhere—his little birds nested in every corner.
Leonor had no argument left. With a sigh, he nodded. "As you say."
The man before him was not only the Crown Prince's confidant but also a shapeshifter of uncanny abilities—he could be trusted.
---
### The Queen's Chambers
BANG!
The door slammed shut.
Alicent sat down heavily in a chair, her face flushed with anger, completely disregarding her usual composure.
Humiliation. A blatant insult!
Her three children were all fighting in Dorne, never once betraying House Targaryen or the realm.
Yet those damn Small Council members still viewed her with suspicion, using Rhaenyra's pregnancy as leverage against her.
Creak—
The door opened, and Otto entered.
Alicent didn't need to turn around to know who it was. She poured herself a glass of red wine and took a large gulp.
Otto silently took a seat across from her, his deep eyes locking onto his daughter as he said, "Fools waste time in anger, but the wise plan ahead."
Alicent was stunned for a moment before snapping, "Viserys isn't dead yet. He will wake up sooner or later!"
"No one in this world can guarantee they will see the sunrise tomorrow."
Otto's tone was calm, as if discussing something trivial.
Alicent felt a flicker of doubt in her heart and hesitated. "What can I do?"
Otto smiled slightly and explained patiently, "We cannot touch the heir's position. Right now, Leonor and the others are likely already discussing how to keep us under surveillance."
He knew his colleagues all too well.
Cunning and methodical, but prone to anxiety and lacking quick thinking.
Alicent sat up straight, listening intently to her father's advice.
Otto picked up a separate teacup from the tray and spoke seriously, "Mund has sent me a message—Dornish forces have been harassing the Arbor and have sought Prince Rhaegar's aid, only to be refused."
"What?"
Alicent's expression tensed as she pressed, "Wasn't Dorne already devastated by the so-called Dragon's Wrath? How do they still have the audacity to threaten Oldtown?"
"And what about Aegon and Aemond? Mund is their great-uncle!"
Otto tapped his fingers lightly on the table and said flatly, "To my knowledge, Starfall and Blackmont were personally burned by Rhaegar. Compared to places like Hellgate Hall, those two castles were only lightly scorched, merely scattering their defenders."
During the first wave of Dragon's Wrath, due to Dorne's vast expanse, ground troops couldn't keep pace with the dragons.
Isolated fortresses like Sandstone were simply burned to ash.
Central strongholds like Vancehold saw not only their castles destroyed but also their resisting nobles captured and sent to Yronwood.
And yet, Starfall and Blackmont—despite being even more remote—were treated as little more than afterthoughts.
Alicent suddenly understood. "Rhaegar did it on purpose?"
"Almost certainly."
Otto remained composed as he analyzed, "House Dayne and House Blackmont reside along rivers, with direct access to the Summer Sea. Bound by fear of dragons, their first target for revenge would be Oldtown."
"House Dayne's behavior is suspicious. From the very beginning, they fixated on Oldtown, and their scout ships have freely navigated the Arbor's coastline, repeatedly probing Oldtown's harbor."
"I knew it! They were bound to retaliate!" Alicent fumed, breathing heavily.
Then she asked, "What should we do? We can't just stand by and let Oldtown be destroyed."
Otto: "Recall Aegon and send him to Oldtown. Have him take control of what remains of House Hightower's forces."
"Aegon?" Alicent hesitated.
Otto nodded. "And Aemond. Use his young age as a pretext to bring him back to King's Landing and win over the Stormlands' nobles."
"Those two…"
Alicent trailed off, rolling her eyes in frustration. "Those boys are terrified of Rhaegar, like mice facing a cat. What leadership could they possibly show?"
Ever since the marriage alliance, Aegon had stopped communicating with his mother altogether.
Aemond, on the other hand, still sent letters occasionally, but his words were filled with admiration for Rhaegar—so much so that he seemed to have forgotten who his own full-blooded brother was.
Alicent thought for a moment, then asked in confusion, "Why not recall Helaena? She's still just a girl."
The wrath of dragons was merciless—she could accept her two sons being involved.
But Helaena? She was just a young girl. Who would dare marry her after this?
Otto glanced at his daughter and asked in return, "Do you really not know the reason?"
Alicent froze.
Then, suddenly, it hit her—her daughter's desire to intervene as the other woman.
Hadn't she said back then that she had succeeded?
Otto didn't press the matter further. Rising to his feet, he said, "Lady Jeyne of the Vale is rumored to be pregnant. Her belly is starting to show, and someone is still holding on to the idea of having the best of both worlds."
"The Dornish forces are at Oldtown's doorstep. It's the perfect excuse for him to ride in on his dragon and use coercion and persuasion as needed."
"The Seven bear witness—defying the will of the Faith will bring divine punishment."
With a meaningful look, Otto turned and walked to the door.
"Think carefully. You'll need to attend the Small Council meeting soon."
Alicent stood there, stunned.
Bang!
The door shut with a soft thud.
For a long moment, silence filled the room.
Then, suddenly, Alicent snapped out of her daze. In a fluster, she grabbed a wine jug and poured herself a full cup, her voice trembling in shock. "How dare he? That was a contract signed by King Viserys the Peaceful himself!"
King Viserys—the most perfect ruler in her eyes.
The one who had given her honor, confidence, and an esteemed position in court.
"No! No one should ever question King Viserys' decisions."
Muttering to herself, she downed the wine in one gulp.
And then there was Helaena.
She must have been part of Rhaegar's plan.
That ungrateful girl!
(End of Chapter)