King's Landing baked under the Long Summer heat even in October. The air felt thick and heavy, like the whole city was sweating out the last of the old regime.
Mud Gate.
The royal fleet sailed back from Lys, bringing a string of captured Lysene ships in its wake. Two dragons swept over the walls and dropped into the Dragonpit. The city erupted in cheers. People poured into the streets to celebrate the victory and welcome their king home.
This Targaryen court was shaping up to be one of the most generous in generations. Even with a war on, King's Landing still had steady grain, stable prices, and no real shortages. When people had full bellies and safe streets, they stopped being troublemakers.
---
Red Keep.
Daeron had barely finished speaking with Shaena when one of the Kingsguard found him.
"Your Grace, the Hand requests a private word."
Ser Lewyn Martell stood with one hand on his sword hilt, looking relaxed but ready.
Daeron's eyes narrowed for a second. He already had a pretty good idea what Tywin wanted.
"Tell him I'm on my way."
The victory feast was set for mid-October. Plenty of time for the old lion to start pushing his agenda.
After the midday council meeting, Daeron kept Tywin behind.
"We need to settle the matter we discussed last time, Your Grace."
Tywin kept his voice even, but the pressure was there.
Daeron leaned back in his chair and smiled. "The position of Hand to a Prince is too important to rush. Ser Alliser is leaving for Lys, and I still need to choose the right man to command the City Watch after him."
He wasn't giving an inch.
Tywin stopped dancing around it. "Kevan has proven himself in the field. Myr is the forward base for any push into the Disputed Lands. He's the obvious choice to serve as Hand to Prince Jaehaerys."
Daeron shook his head. "No."
Tywin's jaw tightened. "Why not?"
"Because I don't think he's the right fit."
The message was clear. Too many Lannisters in too many high places already. Hand of the King, Minister of Justice, and now Hand to another prince? The lion was getting greedy.
Tywin tried one last push. "If I withdraw the Lannister forces from the east—"
Daeron cut him off with a short laugh. "Then I'll have more northern lords and Reachmen lining up to take their place. Dorne might even send men if I ask nicely."
The Iron Throne wasn't short on gold, grain, or soldiers anymore. The great houses were fighting for the chance to serve. Lannister support wasn't indispensable the way it used to be.
Tywin stared at him for a long moment, then stood. "I see I've wasted your time, Your Grace."
He turned to leave.
Daeron stopped him. "One more thing. I hear you're planning to give the new lands in the Disputed Lands to Tygett instead of Kevan."
Tywin paused. "Tygett has ambition but lacks discipline. A new frontier suits him."
Daeron nodded like he was thinking it over. "Then Kevan misses out on a nice chunk of territory."
He let the silence stretch just long enough.
"On second thought, Kevan is a solid commander. He can serve as Hand to Jaehaerys in Myr. Half the Lannister army stays behind to garrison the city. He'll help free the slaves, set up new work for them, and push development in the Disputed Lands."
Tywin studied him. "That's a heavy load."
"Exactly why I need someone capable," Daeron said. "Freeing three cities and then turning the Disputed Lands into something useful is going to take real work. Kevan fits."
Tywin was quiet for a few seconds. Then he nodded once. "The crown covers the army's expenses."
"Done."
Tywin left without another word.
Daeron smiled to himself once the door closed.
Tywin wanted power and prestige for his family. Daeron needed someone to carry the heavy lifting in Myr and the Disputed Lands while he kept the lion on a short leash. Both sides got what they wanted.
A win-win. The kind where one man wins twice.
He pulled a sealed appointment from his drawer and called for Maester Aemon.
---
Half a month later the victory feast finally happened.
The Red Keep was packed. Lords from every kingdom, governors and rich merchants from the three cities, all squeezed into the throne hall.
Daeron sat on the Iron Throne in black robes and the Valyrian steel circlet, Dark Sister resting against the arm. The hall went quiet as he began the rewards.
He started by naming his three brothers princes of the new cities.
The room exploded with shock. Three princes at once. Three entire cities handed out like nameday gifts.
Olenna Tyrell muttered something acidic under her breath. Randyll Tarly frowned. Eddard Stark looked uneasy.
Then Daeron named Lucerys Velaryon first for rewards.
Tywin's face went still. The order of rewards mattered. Lucerys going before the Hand of the King was a deliberate slight.
Daeron smiled as he listed the lands, manors, wind-rider sails, and gold going to House Velaryon.
Lucerys's heir, Monford, stepped forward to accept with a smug little bow, deliberately passing close to Tywin on his way back.
Tywin's voice was ice. "Careful with your tongue, boy. Some things are easy to lose."
Monford just smiled wider. "I'll keep that in mind, my lord."
The feast continued, but the tension between the crown and the lion was now out in the open for everyone to see.