King's Landing.
The Red Keep, the Council Chamber.
Tywin was in high spirits, discussing the state of the realm.
"As expected, the Tully family has joined the rebels. I will mobilize the lords of the Riverlands who support the crown to lay siege to Riverrun."
He had been in a good mood lately.
His star pupil, Daeron, had gone south to The Reach, leaving the power in King's Landing in his hands.
He heard Daeron was attacking the Iron Islands, wasting his energy on those Ironborn.
"Young people have plenty of energy. Now that he has a dragon, he always wants to use it."
Tywin smiled faintly.
This brought up another reason for his good mood.
Cersei had told him personally that her relationship with Daeron was progressing rapidly.
It seemed that with the war approaching, Daeron realized the importance of House Lannister.
If things continued this way, he might even manage to produce a little grandson for him ahead of schedule.
By then, he would be the grandfather of the next-to-next heir to the Iron Throne.
During the Dance of the Dragons, the Hand Otto Hightower was only a Second Son with mediocre political skills, yet he still held a significant position. Wasn't it because his daughter gave birth to a brood of dragon seeds?
Standing in the same position, he was confident he could do better.
Just then, Maester Aemon spoke, interrupting his pleasant fantasy.
"My Lord, as far as I know, the Tully rebellion has a lot to do with your order for The great Lannister army to be stationed outside Riverrun."
His voice was calm, devoid of emotion.
But anyone could hear that he was questioning the Hand's decision.
Tywin raised an eyebrow and admitted frankly, "The Tully family's marriage alliance with the House Stark makes them part of The Alliance of the Four Regions. Even if I hadn't sent an army to station there, rebellion was only a matter of time."
"You may have a point."
Maester Aemon nodded slowly, not dwelling on that point, and turned to say, "But the Riverlands have fallen into internal strife, and the fires of war are spreading everywhere. If the Iron Throne does not intervene in time, I fear it will cause great harm to the people's livelihoods."
He didn't speak directly, but stated the facts from the perspective of the common people.
Tywin said bluntly, "Just a bunch of commoners. We are facing a war of subversion!"
In the eyes of the high nobility, the commoners never had a place.
Maester Aemon sighed softly, "What I mean is, you should send troops in time to extinguish the fires of war in the Riverlands and not let the negative impact expand."
"Are you urging me to send troops?"
Tywin's brows furrowed.
A conceited person is most unwilling to listen to the opinions of others.
Maester Aemon seemed soft, but was actually very firm. He said calmly, "If you think so, then yes."
Do you still remember his name?
His name is Aemon Targaryen, the older brother of Aegon V and the great-uncle of King Aerys.
Having lived for over 80 years, he was used to the coldness and warmth of human nature.
He had already seen through Tywin's little scheme to sit back and reap the benefits.
The other party was letting the fires of war rage in the Riverlands, with the lords of both sides fighting to the death.
Meanwhile, The great Lannister army was stationed outside Casterly Rock, waiting for the internal conflict in the Riverlands to be decided so they could come out and pick up the pieces.
It was a good idea.
However, Maester Aemon would not allow anyone to harm the interests of the Iron Throne and the common people for their own selfish desires.
"Maester Aemon, I am not sending troops for the time being to guard against the combined forces of the Vale and the North."
Tywin said without changing his expression, using the excuse he had prepared long ago.
Maester Aemon couldn't deny it, but he was well aware of the war situation. He said softly, "Even if not for the Riverlands, you should follow Prince Daeron's instructions and lead your troops to Tumbleton to prevent Robert's allied forces from attacking the Royalists army in Fawnton."
He had no intention of arguing and used a tactic to lure the tiger from the mountain.
"I will, Grand Maester!"
Tywin stood up abruptly and announced the end of the Small Council meeting.
This old man, relying on his noble birth, was always so aggressive.
He should have been left to rot at the Wall.
On the same day, Ser Jon approached Tywin with news from Lord Darry and Lord Haran.
They requested that the Iron Throne send troops as soon as possible to bolster the Royalists cause.
Mainly, House Blackwood had changed sides at the last minute and was now locked in a death match with their old rivals, House Bracken.
This led to a weakening of the Royalists forces.
Meanwhile, the Vale forces had finished assembling and were about to cross Mountains of the Moon to support the Tully family.
With one side weakening and the other strengthening, the situation was very unfavorable.
.
Tywin's face was grim, and he slapped the table in anger, declaring, "That boy is about to be engaged to my daughter. How could I sit idly by and let House Lannister hold back!?"
Ser Jon was stunned, confused.
When did the Prince and Lady Cersei—?
Tywin realized his slip of the tongue and immediately changed his tune: "Tell the two lords that I will lead the Crownlands army and two thousand Lannister vanguards to Tumbleton to support Daeron's first battlefield against Robert's rebel army."
"I will write to Kevan and tell him to besiege Riverrun to share the pressure for the Royalists army in the Riverlands."
Giving them a hand should be enough, right?
Ser Jon took the letter and left immediately.
While the Crownlands army was preparing to depart, Daeron rode Caraxes back to King's Landing.
When flying over the Mud Gate, he happened to see the royal ships from Dragonstone.
It was Oswell returning on orders.
Daeron took note and landed the dragon at the Red Keep.
"Second Brother! Second Brother!"
"Brother—"
Jaehaerys and Viserys were in the front courtyard, receiving training from the Red Keep's master-at-arms.
Seeing Daeron return on his dragon, they ran over excitedly.
"How have things been lately?"
Daeron gave each of them a bunch of Silver-star Purple Grapes, a specialty of Highgarden, and asked his two younger brothers.
Little Jae glanced toward the Tower of the Hand and spoke quickly, "I saw Lord Tywin putting on his armor this morning, but I don't know where he's going."
"It's Tumbleton."
Daeron patted his head and told him to go play with a smile.
Little Jae couldn't figure it out, so he pulled his brother aside and even shared the grapes with the master-at-arms.
Daeron's smile faded.
Actually, what Tywin was doing was exactly what he wanted.
He wanted to swallow up most of the territories of the Riverlands and Stormlands to strengthen the core of the Crownlands.
The noble lords of the two regions were undoubtedly better off the weaker they were.
Families like the Haran, House Blackwood, and Frey in the Riverlands were already as powerful as their liege lord, the Tully family. If their strength wasn't worn down in the war, they would only grow stronger after receiving rewards.
With the expansion of the Crownlands, centralization of power would inevitably be strengthened.
Letting these great nobles expand again would only increase the difficulty of implementing new systems.
Daeron thought to himself: "However, my teacher is overdoing it. Disregarding the lives of the people in the Riverlands will also affect the reputation of the Iron Throne."
If there's a chance, he would make appropriate adjustments.
Having successively seen his father Aerys and Maester Aemon, Daeron had a clear grasp of the changes in King's Landing and the path to victory in the War of the Usurper.
He was full of confidence in the war.
Of course, as long as he didn't get reckless, winning wasn't difficult to begin with.
He now had a clearer grasp of the overall rhythm of the War of the Usurper.
Robert's rebel army had finished assembling, and the Vale forces were on their way.
There was no news of the North's forces, but it should be soon.
On the Royalists side, the Highgarden forces were heading straight for Robert's rebels and would deliver a head-on blow.
The Riverlands were in a state of chaos, waiting for the Vale forces or the Iron Throne to intervene.
Daeron was holding his ground for now.
He believed Tywin wouldn't actually send troops to attack Riverrun and waste a great opportunity to weaken the Riverlands lords.
As for Dorne—
This time, with Daeron in control of the Highgarden forces, the stupid thing where Duke Mace didn't put in any effort and besieged Storms End with tens of thousands of troops until the end of the war wouldn't happen.
The rhythm of the war following this...
Would be to defeat Robert's allied forces and secure Stormlands.
Once Robert fled to the Riverlands and joined the forces of the other three regions, the final decisive battle would take place.
"Robert, I believe with your strength, you will definitely hold out until the end."
Daeron had no ill will toward him and secretly cheered for him.
That's how dragons are, rotten to the core.
Maintaining a chaotic good alignment was Daeron's final kindness.
Knock, knock, knock!
He knocked on the door and was allowed to enter.
Inside the room, Shaena was bowing her head, embroidering a tapestry.
Beside her legs, hidden under her beige skirt, was a steaming hatching brazier.
Click!
Daeron opened the lid. Three petrified Dragon Eggs of different colors were piled on the glowing charcoal.
"They are very healthy."
Shaena finally looked up, as if in casual conversation.
Daeron took a look and was amused: "Healthy?"
Three stone eggs.
Shaena looked away and said softly, "They will hatch."
At this moment, Daeron noticed the tapestry she was embroidering.
In the blazing fire, three Dragon Eggs leaned against each other. The yellow Dragon Egg was cracked, and a yellow young dragon was crawling out of the shell.
Shaena pointed at the yellow Dragon Egg, her tone full of hope: "I want to put it in Rhaenys's cradle on her Name Day."
"No," Daeron shook his head in refusal.
Shaena lowered her head and expressed her view: "I think it suits Rhaenys very well."
Daeron sat on the carpet, took her warm hands, and said gently, "I need to find suitable Dragon Eggs for you and Little Jae and the others before I can consider anyone else."
Not to mention a petrified Dragon Egg, even a perfect Dragon Egg, he could give to his sister and brother.
Because he had the Dragon Language Farm, he was destined to be different.
Caraxes's rocket-like growth rate had already shown everything.
But giving a petrified Dragon Egg to Rhaenys was out of the question.
She was Rhaegar's daughter and had Dornish blood.
Giving it to her would be aiding the enemy!
Shaena relied on inspiration, but she wasn't stupid.
She withdrew her hands and gently pulled Daeron's head onto her lap covered by the silk skirt.
It was a bit clumsy, perhaps because she was unfamiliar with it.
Daeron's eyes widened, thinking, "Is there such a good thing?"
Shaena was focused, silently stroking his head like petting a bad-tempered big cat, soothing his naturally restless emotions.
She felt Daeron might need this.
Those noble ladies—did it this way.
"Do you have any requests?"
Daeron became lazy, smelling the faint fragrance on the girl, feeling the midday sun on his back. It was truly a perfect atmosphere for a nap.
"If I do, I'll tell you."
Shaena was very straightforward and never acted like a stranger.
Daeron closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around the girl's slender waist, feeling a comforting warmth.
Riding a dragon was exhausting, and he was so comfortable he was almost falling asleep.
At that moment, Shaena said something startling: "Mother is pregnant."
"..."
Daeron quietly opened his eyes, a look of confusion appearing in them, unsure if he had misheard.
Shaena said calmly, "Shortly after you left, Mother was vomiting. After a diagnosis by our great-great-uncle, she is pregnant."
"Really??"
Daeron's sleepiness vanished instantly.
Shaena said, "I hope Father didn't hurt her, otherwise it might affect the fetus."
>