The first to enter the council chamber was the envoy himself.
Two attendants followed behind him.
He was about thirty years old and rather tall.
Though he lacked the violet eyes typical of the Targaryens, the combination of silver hair and blue eyes was still clear proof of Valyrian blood.
"King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, Protector of the Realm — His Grace, King Viserys," the envoy said fluently in the common tongue.
Standing beside the king, Aemond calmly studied the messenger.
The Rogare family…
Valyrian blood, yet no ability to bond with dragons.
Through commerce and political skill, they had risen to prominence in Lys.
Now they were one of the most powerful noble families of that Free City.
The envoy's gaze briefly paused on Hand of the King Otto Hightower, before shifting to Aemond at Viserys's side.
Those blue eyes flashed with curiosity and appraisal.
"Welcome to King's Landing, Lord Corlys Rogare," Viserys said, nodding as he gestured for a seat to be brought forward.
"Thank you for Your Grace's kindness," Corlys replied, taking the carved chair.
"It is an honor to set foot in Westeros and behold the magnificence of the Red Keep."
After the formalities, Corlys went straight to the point.
"Your Grace, the primary purpose of my visit is to restore trade between the Triarchy and the Seven Kingdoms.
Since the dispute over the Stepstones, commerce between our realms has been completely severed."
He shook his head lightly.
"Trade should be mutually beneficial, yet now…"
Viserys fell silent for a moment.
He understood the importance of trade well enough.
The conflict between the Triarchy and House Velaryon over the Stepstones had lasted many years.
The Seven Kingdoms had even formally declared war.
Though the war ended with a Velaryon victory and a ceasefire was signed, relations remained fragile.
"Trade is indeed a fine thing," Viserys said slowly.
"But tariffs and control of shipping lanes concern the rights of the Crown and the lords of every port."
Corlys smiled, clearly prepared for this response.
"Your Grace is wise. I have brought a detailed proposal, which I will later submit to the Hand and the Small Council.
I believe that with sincerity on both sides, we can reach a mutually beneficial agreement."
Then his expression grew solemn.
"There is, however, another and more important matter.
On behalf of House Rogare, I wish to propose a marriage alliance with House Targaryen."
The council chamber fell into silence.
A marriage?
House Rogare wielded enormous wealth and influence in Essos — riches enough to rival a kingdom.
Viserys looked intently at Corlys.
"A marriage?" he repeated.
"Yes, Your Grace," Corlys said frankly.
"Though we are not as exalted as House Targaryen, Valyrian blood still runs pure in our veins.
My brother, Lysandro Rogare, believes that a union between our houses would strengthen ties between East and West."
He paused, then added calmly:
"As a sign of our sincerity, House Rogare is prepared to offer a dowry of five hundred thousand gold dragons, along with jewels and trade goods of equal value."
"Five hundred thousand gold dragons?!"
Treasurer Lyman Beesbury exclaimed, nearly leaping from his seat.
Even Jasper Wylde widened his eyes.
Otto Hightower, however, showed no surprise.
He merely watched Viserys, awaiting the king's reaction.
Viserys was deep in thought.
Such a dowry, combined with Rogare influence in Essos, was undeniably tempting.
Corlys continued, seizing the moment.
"My niece, Aelora Rogare, is thirteen years of age — well-educated, fluent in several tongues, and of exceptional beauty.
She is close in age to Prince Aemond… and shares the same blood."
Aemond's gaze shifted calmly to Corlys, who offered him a faint smile.
All eyes in the chamber turned to the prince.
"I refuse," Aemond said flatly.
The silence deepened.
Even Otto looked stunned.
Viserys frowned.
"Aemond," he said sharply, "Lord Rogare has traveled far in good faith.
Marriage is no small matter — and you reject it without consideration?"
"Father," Aemond replied evenly, violet eyes unwavering,
"I have considered it. I simply do not want it."
The arrogance in his tone made Viserys bristle.
"I refuse," Aemond repeated, colder this time.
Corlys's expression darkened slightly.
"No reason?" Viserys demanded.
"I do not wish to marry her," Aemond answered calmly.
Viserys pushed away the cup offered by a servant.
"I have given you land, gold, and power!" he snapped.
"And now you would cast aside such a perfect match?
Do you still respect your father — or the interests of the Crown?"
"If you insist," Aemond said slowly,
"I will obey. After all… even in Westeros, a wife may die. One can always remarry."
The chamber froze.
"What did you say?" Viserys stared at him in shock.
Corlys rose, his blue eyes cold.
"Is this how House Targaryen treats House Rogare, Your Grace?"
Otto quickly intervened.
"Lord Rogare," he said smoothly,
"Lady Aelora is well matched in age.
If Prince Aemond is unwilling… perhaps Prince Aegon might be considered instead."
Corlys hesitated.
"Prince Aegon…" he murmured. "He is currently on the island of Dragonstone."
"Only for two years," Otto replied.
"Upon his return, the wedding preparations may begin.
An official betrothal can be announced in the meantime."
Viserys glanced at Otto, who met his gaze imploringly.
"…Very well," the king said at last, waving a tired hand.
"Let it be as the Hand suggests.
The marriage of Prince Aegon Targaryen and Aelora Rogare."
"The details will be handled by the Hand and the Master of Laws."