Chapter 30: The New Year's Tourney and the Family Banquet
The grand tourney at Dragonpit Square raged on. As always, nobles and commoners alike placed bets before every match — but this time, the bookmakers behind the wagers were all Daemon's men. Every coin wagered, every cheer or groan of loss, added to his wealth.
Ser Criston Cole performed admirably at first, easily defeating the sellsword Martin Stone and young Ser Tygett Caron. But in the third round, he met the seasoned Ser Harrold Westerling of the Kingsguard — and was unhorsed.
Diamante Waters, the handsome bard favored by the Sea Snake and Princess Rhaenys, surprised everyone with his skill in arms. He defeated both Ser Raymont Royce, Commander of the Kingsguard, and Ser Charlys Celtigar, the "Blue Crab," before finally being bested by the Lord Commander himself, Ser Ryam Redwyne.
Daemon's own companions — Ser Qidan Massey, Ser Andy Harver, Ser Richard Storm, and Ser Raven Greyjoy — were eliminated one after another. The younger knights, full of vigor but short on experience, were no match for the veterans.
Daemon advanced to the quarterfinals, where his opponent was Ser Clement Crabb of the Kingsguard.
Ser Clement was a short, stout man in his forties, an uncle to the Knight of Whispers, and proud of the wildling blood said to run in his veins. Clad in white armor and riding a white steed, he saluted Daemon before the match.
"Prince Daemon," Clement said with a grin, "when you were a boy, I often trained you in the Red Keep's yard. I know your every weakness. I fear you'll not pass me today."
Daemon laughed. "You may have trained me, old friend, but you're twice my age. Wouldn't it be embarrassing to lose to a pupil?"
He lowered his visor, raised his lance, and charged.
They clashed six times. Clement's experience proved decisive. His final strike shattered his lance square against the three-headed dragon on Daemon's breastplate, throwing the prince from his horse. The crowd roared.
Yet Clement's triumph was short-lived — he was defeated in the semifinals by the redoubtable Lord Commander Ryam Redwyne, who then faced Ser Harrold Westerling in the final.
White-haired and broad-shouldered, Ser Ryam fought like a man half his age. With unyielding strength, he defeated Ser Harrold, winning yet another championship.
As had become tradition, Ser Ryam approached Queen Alysanne and placed the wreath of the Queen of Love and Beauty upon her brow. The people of King's Landing cheered — it was a sight they had seen many times before. For decades, whenever Ser Ryam won and Queen Alysanne was present, he crowned her without fail.
Smiling warmly yet shyly, Queen Alysanne said, "Ser Ryam, I must be the oldest Queen of Love and Beauty in the realm. Perhaps it's time you crown Aemma, Rhaenys, or Gael instead?"
Ser Ryam laughed heartily. "Your Grace, the day will come when young knights crown them. My own jousting days are nearly done, and I suspect there will be few more chances to offer you this honor."
After the tourney ended, King Jaehaerys and Queen Alysanne, guarded by the Kingsguard, descended Rhaenys's Hill in their palanquins. As they passed through Flea Bottom and made their way toward the Red Keep on Aegon's High Hill, the smallfolk lined the streets, cheering their names.
That evening, a family banquet was held in the Red Keep's grand hall.
Prince Viserys attended with his infant daughter Rhaenyra. Princess Rhaenys and Lord Corlys arrived with their children, Laena and Laenor. Rhaenys's mother, Lady Jocelyn Baratheon, came as well, completing the gathering.
The tables overflowed with food — lemon cakes, eel pies, honey-glazed venison, onion beef, roasted herons — their rich aroma filling the hall.
King Jaehaerys beamed at the sight of his family, his gaze resting fondly on the expectant bellies of Princess Aemma and Princess Gael. "The gods have blessed House Targaryen," he said proudly. "Soon, our family will welcome new dragons into the world."
Queen Alysanne smiled. "Ravens have been sent to every corner of the realm. Lords and Wardens from all regions, even the High Septon of Oldtown, will come to King's Landing for your fiftieth year upon the throne. Our children will all return home."
Jaehaerys's expression grew thoughtful. "Indeed. Vaegon will come from Oldtown. He is now Archmaester Vaegon of the Conclave — the first maester of House Targaryen. Even Aegon the Conqueror could not boast such a thing."
Vaegon's letters to the King and Queen were always impeccably polite, each word precise — yet cold, formal, and lacking affection. Still, his parents cherished every letter.
Alysanne hesitated, then said softly, "And… Saenella is coming too. Our family will be whole again."
Jaehaerys's face darkened. "Saenella will not return. She's been gone for more than ten years. She assaulted a Silent Sister during her escape — the poor old woman lingered in agony before dying. To the Faith, Saenella is a heretic and a traitor. And now she debases herself in Volantis, selling her body. She's disgraced our house beyond redemption."
Alysanne's eyes flashed with pain. "She was driven to it! We forced her into the Faith — she was barely more than a girl. What choice did she have?"
"She had choices," Jaehaerys said grimly. "Yet she delights in her sin. She owns a brothel in Volantis, flaunts her Valyrian blood, and calls herself the Dragon Princess to attract clients."
Alysanne's voice softened. "Even so, I sent her a letter months ago — pleading for her to return, for her parents' sake. I know she will come."
The King turned to Corlys Velaryon. "Sea Snake, you saw her in Volantis once. You wished to bring her home. What did she tell you?"
Corlys thought for a long while before answering. "Princess Saenella said she was content in Volantis. She did not wish to return — though she still misses her parents, and her homeland of Westeros."
Daemon, watching from his seat, thought Corlys was lying. If Saenella truly longed to return, she could have boarded any ship. Every port welcomed a prostitute.
Sensing tension rising between the King and Queen, Prince Baelon quickly spoke to change the subject. "Father, Mother — I'm certain Saenella will return in her own time. But for now, perhaps we should speak of my royal progress."
Since Jaehaerys and Alysanne were too old to tour the realm for the anniversary of the King's reign, the Small Council had agreed that Prince Baelon would travel in their stead — representing the royal family before the lords of Westeros.
Jaehaerys nodded. "Very well, my son. Where will you begin your journey?"
Baelon hesitated. "I've yet to decide."
Daemon seized the moment. "I recommend beginning in the Vale. After Duke Aelin Arryn's death, young Lady Jeyne Arryn is but three years old. Her regent, Lord Yobert Royce, may struggle to control the mountain clans and Sistermen pirates. It would be fitting for you, Father, to visit the Eyrie — and remind them of Targaryen strength."
Aemma Arryn smiled faintly. "A wonderful idea. If Rhaenyra were older — and if I weren't with child — I'd go myself to see my niece Jeyne."
After Duke Aelin's passing, the Vale had known unrest. Pirates from the Sisters harried the coasts, while mountain clans raided villages in the foothills. Lord Vaemond Velaryon, Corlys's brother, had driven the pirates away with the Valyrian fleet and was now courting the favor of Vale lords — likely to strengthen House Velaryon's position in future succession disputes.
Daemon's suggestion, then, was more than a matter of peacekeeping. If Baelon appeared in the Vale astride Vhagar, the same dragon Visenya once used to force House Arryn's submission, the Vale would remember where true power lay — and think twice before aligning with Velaryon ambitions.
Corlys frowned. "The Sistermen pirates have already been driven off. Baelon should instead tour the Reach — travel the Rose Road, visit Bitterbridge, Cider Hall, Highgarden, and Oldtown. Paying respects to the High Septon at the Starry Sept would be most fitting."
But King Jaehaerys shook his head. "The High Septon will come to King's Landing for the celebration. Baelon should go to the Vale — comfort little Lady Jeyne, and show the realm that the Targaryens still watch over the Eyrie."
Baelon considered this, then nodded. "So be it. I will ride Vhagar to the Vale — to remind the mountain clans and pirates alike of the fire that guards the realm. And Daemon," he added, turning to his son, "you shall accompany me on Caraxes."
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