Chapter 36 — Dragonseed
Outside Harroway's Town, Prince Baelon Targaryen stood over the charred remains of Ser Alen Lannister.
> "Why would Ser Alen steal coin and a sword?" Baelon asked, frowning deeply. "Just yesterday, he accompanied me to inspect the borderlands. He seemed an honorable man. He even spoke of having more children with you, Lady Susan."
Lady Susan Harroway lowered her eyes sorrowfully.
> "Prince Baelon, my husband was never an honorable man. I only thank the Seven he failed to steal your brother's gold — or worse, the Dark Sister itself. That blade is the ancestral Valyrian steel of House Targaryen."
She turned toward the trembling youth kneeling before them — her husband's squire.
> "Ross was Alen's squire. He aided my husband in his attempt to steal Prince Daemon's sword and coin. My husband paid for his greed with his life, but this one still lives. How will my princes judge him?"
Baelon, the King's Master of Laws, considered.
> "Theft that leads to death cannot go unpunished. Send him to the Wall to take the black."
The boy wept bitterly.
> "The Wall is cold and dead, my prince! I beg you — anywhere but there!"
Daemon, who had watched in silence, spoke quietly.
> "Ross's guilt may not be as great as his master's. Under the laws His Grace enacted, such offenders may be spared the Wall and sent to labor in service, to atone through toil. I will take the boy. Let him work his debt off in my lands along the Blackwater Rush."
Baelon nodded gravely.
> "So be it. Lady Susan, send two knights to escort him to Prince Daemon's estates."
Two guards seized Ross and led him away in chains, weeping as he went. Others carried what little remained of Ser Alen — blackened bone and ash — to a pauper's grave beyond the hill.
Their duties in Harroway's Town concluded, the princes prepared to depart. Their next stop lay at Hogg Hall, seat of House Hogg, minor knights sworn to the Harroways. Though of little consequence, King Jaehaerys and Queen Alysanne had long believed that no voice in the realm was too small to be heard, and Baelon and Daemon continued that tradition.
Baelon strode off to mount Vhagar, but Lady Susan caught Daemon's sleeve and drew him behind a great camphor tree.
> "Prince Daemon," she whispered, "I know it was you who freed me from that wretched marriage."
Daemon's expression chilled.
> "Do not deceive yourself, my lady. I did nothing. Your husband's greed led him to steal from a Targaryen. His death was his own doing."
A fox darted through the grass after a squirrel. Lady Susan smiled faintly.
> "Say what you will, but I know the truth. You are my gallant knight from the songs — the hero who saved me from my cruel husband."
> "Then you must also remember," Daemon replied, "that in those songs, when the knight slays the lady's husband and lies with her again, they are no longer heroes, but adulterers."
Above them, Vhagar's vast shadow swept across the town as she rose into the sky, wings blotting out the morning sun.
Lady Susan's smile turned wistful.
> "I prefer the reckless, dangerous Daemon to this pious one before me. Before you, I was starved of passion for three long years. Yesterday's embrace — it was as if the parched earth had finally drunk the rain. How can I forget it?"
She stepped closer, her voice trembling with heat.
> "I have shared a bed with a dragon. No mortal man will ever satisfy me again."
Her words and her beauty made Daemon's blood stir. Yet he steeled himself.
> "You are free now, my lady — free to wed again. Choose a man who loves you, and learn what wine he favors. As for me, I must go."
He turned sharply and started back toward the road. Lady Susan called after him, her voice breaking.
> "If you never return, I shall keep myself chaste for you and die alone!"
Daemon looked back with a lazy smile.
> "That is your choice, not my burden."
She trembled, anger and longing warring in her face.
> "If you will not have me, I shall take the vows of a Silent Sister, a wife to the Stranger!"
> "As you wish," said Daemon coolly.
> "Then I shall starve myself to death!"
Daemon sighed. Even in her fury, she was enchanting.
> "We may remain friends, my lady — but friends only. No more."
Overjoyed, Lady Susan threw herself into his arms, kissing him passionately.
> "Yes — friends. Pure friends who never cross the line."
> "Seven hells," Daemon muttered inwardly, realizing he had once again fallen into her snares.
She smiled wickedly.
> "The gift you left within me — I pray it takes root. I will bear you a dragonseed child."
> "No," Daemon said darkly. "You should drink moon tea—"
She pressed a finger to his lips, silencing him with another kiss.
High above, Prince Baelon watched from Vhagar's back, his frown deepening.
When Daemon finally took to the sky on Caraxes, Lady Susan stood upon the hill, her scarlet gown fluttering, her body swaying as she watched him vanish into the clouds.
Daemon glanced down once — then hardened his heart. He had lain with whores in King's Landing, and noble ladies were no less dangerous. A prince of dragons must not be snared by flesh, he told himself.
Caraxes roared, the sound echoing over the meadows, and rose to join Vhagar.
Baelon's voice carried across the wind.
> "Daemon, I warn you — master your lust. You are your mother's son, but your blood is hot. I expected better than to find you tangled beneath Lady Harroway's skirts."
> "You mistake me, Father," Daemon called back. "She and I are innocent."
Baelon gave a short laugh.
> "I saw your farewell kiss. Be wary, son. Women may seem frail, yet they wield more danger than steel. Ambition often wears a lovely face. Her husband's death beneath your dragon's fire will give tongues much to wag. Were it not for the squire's word, I might think you both complicit."
The dragons climbed higher, sunlight gleaming off their scales. Below, a flock of geese scattered in panic.
> "He tried to steal my gold and Dark Sister," Daemon said flatly. "His death is no crime of mine."
Baelon's tone softened.
> "When Aemon and I were your age, we too rode upon royal progresses with our grandsire. In every castle, noble maidens gathered like moths to a flame. To them, a Targaryen was nearer to a god than a man — and who could blame them? We rode dragons."
> "Even after Aemon wed Jocelyn Baratheon — the fairest woman in the realm — he still strayed, leaving bastards in half a dozen keeps."
Daemon smirked.
> "And you, Father? No bastards of your own?"
Baelon frowned.
> "When I was young, I erred as all men do. But I loved your mother, Alyssa, and after her death, I swore never to touch another. I have no bastards — none that I know of. Yet many lords would gladly offer their daughters to us, hoping for a drop of dragon's blood."
> "Some even dream that their bastard offspring might ride dragons," Daemon muttered. "The realm crawls with pretenders calling themselves dragonseed."
> "It is folly to think dragon blood can be bred like horses," Baelon said. "But such greed will only spread corruption. Even our wise King cannot wholly escape temptation."
The two dragons soared eastward, their shadows sweeping across field and forest. Below them, the wind carried the whispers of men who dreamed of fire — and the birth of dragonseeds yet to come.
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