"Send him in."
Daeron's interest sharpened.
Maester Harwyn moved fast. Moments later he returned with a rail-thin old man sporting a white beard. The envoy looked so frail a stiff breeze might knock him over.
He was Prince Rhaeton's messenger. He bowed low and spoke with careful respect.
"Prince Daeron Targaryen, Prince Rhaeton sends this letter and bids me assure you of his complete goodwill and sincerity."
The envoy handed over the sealed parchment.
"What does it say?" Tywin asked, eyeing the messenger with open suspicion.
Daeron broke the seal and read quickly. His earlier thoughts about moving on the Stepstones shot from possibility to certainty.
"Pentoshi merchant ships have also been hit by Tyroshi pirates," he said, showing half the letter to Tywin.
Tywin scanned it, his face hardening. "Pentos wants the Iron Throne to join them in crushing the Triarchy pirates?"
There was more. Prince Rhaeton had found a new ally.
Myr had signed a contract with the Golden Company, only for the sellswords to break it—an unprecedented move—and throw themselves into the fight for the Stepstones. Rumors tied Tyrosh to the betrayal. The Myrish archons were furious and had reached out to Pentos. The two had struck a temporary alliance.
"Pentos has the gold but no army. Myr is desperate for allies," Daeron said, thinking aloud. "The odds they're sincere are high, but their real goal is breaking the deadlock in the Stepstones."
The fighting there had dragged on for nearly two years. Anyone with eyes could see the Triarchy was bleeding out. Lys, Myr, and Tyrosh were all frantically courting outside help to end the endless slaughter.
"Pentos can't be trusted," Tywin said flatly. "If the Iron Throne gets dragged into the Triarchy's mess, we'll be caught in a vortex."
Lord Lucerys Velaryon cut in before Daeron could speak. "Whatever Pentos wants, the Tyroshi pirates raided Tarth. If the Iron Throne does nothing, our bannermen will lose faith and the Free Cities will think we're weak."
"Jumping into war without thinking is hardly wise," Tywin shot back, voice rising.
Lucerys didn't flinch. "Hesitate too long and the pirates will only grow bolder."
Daeron held up a hand. "Both of you are right. Outsiders can't be fully trusted, but we can't let Tarth be plundered for nothing."
He made his decision. "I'll correspond with Prince Rhaeton. For now, we send the fleet to Tarth. I'll follow personally on dragonback."
This was too good an opportunity to pass up. With Pentos and Myr as temporary partners, he could bloody Tyrosh's nose, raid the pirate dens around the Stepstones, and let the lords of the Crownlands, Riverlands, and Stormlands taste the spoils of victory. It was the perfect way to finish absorbing the three regions into the royal domain.
"I agree," Lucerys said at once.
Lord Corlton and the others glanced between Daeron and the Hand, unsure which way to lean.
Maester Aemon's old eyes still held sharp wisdom. After a moment he spoke softly. "The Tyroshi pirates' actions are shameful. The Iron Throne should deliver a firm warning. We cannot afford to look weak."
The realm had just finished the War of the Usurper. The Vale, Stormlands, and North had taken heavy losses. Many Riverlands villages and holdings lay in ruins. But a naval operation could be handled by the royal fleet alone.
Aemon rubbed his fingers thoughtfully. "At sea, a dragon's power increases tenfold. It's time the people across the Narrow Sea remembered the true strength of House Targaryen."
With Maester Aemon's support, the Small Council approved the plan almost unanimously.
Victory over the four-kingdom rebellion had given them all a strong surge of confidence. If Daeron led, they believed they could not lose.
Tywin sat stone-faced, neither opposing nor endorsing. He marked Lord Lucerys's open contradiction as another sign his own authority was slipping.
After the meeting, Daeron pulled Lucerys aside and ordered him to take a squadron of ships to Tarth immediately.
They would fight—no question. But how, and with whom, required care. Pentos and Myr wanted something. Whether they came with real honesty was another matter.
Daeron planned to strike first, use the Tyroshi pirates to make an example, and remind both sides of the Narrow Sea exactly who held the dragons.
"Right away, my prince," Lucerys said, practically vibrating with eagerness.
For a sea lord, advantage was always found on the water.
Daeron watched him go, then assessed his own strength. The Triarchy could not be underestimated. He would need to make some preparations.
The panel would help with that.
---
Back at Dragon-Tongue Farm, Daeron hosted an Autumn Festival.
It was the sixteenth day of Fall in the fifth year. He had invited Shaena and his two younger brothers to take part.
When he displayed his entries—iridium-star cheese, gold-star sea cucumbers, rainbow shards, gold-star rabbit's foot, ancient-fruit wine, and other premium goods—his little brothers groaned in defeat as he easily took first place.
Shaena just shook her head. Daeron had no shame, bullying his younger siblings with top-tier produce while they could only offer ordinary-quality items.
In a quiet corner Daeron redeemed the festival's Star Fruit and ate it on the spot.
A warm current flooded his body. His Life Seed trembled and grew stronger, his vitality surging.
Panel notification:
[You have discovered a Star Fruit! Strange… but the taste reminds you of CN.]
Your maximum energy level has increased.
Daeron stretched, satisfied. His Life Seed had grown by nearly one-seventh. The ancient fruit now looked even more lifelike, almost alive.
"Perfect. Second Star Fruit secured."
He had been stuck in the war for so long that he could barely keep up with the half-month harvests, let alone the festival schedule. Finally catching the Autumn Festival and claiming the Star Fruit felt good. This was the easiest one to get for now. The next might be a long wait.
"You three keep playing. I need to check something," he told them.
He handed the boys off to Shaena and headed for the small island by the waterfall.
Inside the Zuni magic hut, three dragon eggs had shed their stony shells. Their surfaces now gleamed with fresh, vibrant color.
Daeron bent down and carefully lifted the deep black egg—dark as the midnight sea.
"The dragon eggs have revived," he whispered, voice full of quiet triumph.