Gendry had changed into a black, red, and gold velvet tunic, with his weapons secured firmly to his sword belt. He sat on the wooden platform alongside Daenerys, who was surrounded by an increasingly enthusiastic crowd.
The stands had become much livelier.
Apart from the Lords and Knights who had originally come to watch the tournament, many important officials and nobles from King's Landing had now arrived as well.
Daenerys greeted everyone with a gentle smile while quietly memorizing their names, appearances, titles, and territories.
She even took note of the achievements their children were most proud of and the greatest battles the Knights had fought in.
With Gendry and Ser Barristan helping her identify the various nobles, this wasn't particularly difficult. Even the Northern Lords, whom Daenerys had interacted with less frequently, were easily introduced to her by Daisy Mormont.
Except for a few people, such as Stannis Baratheon and Matus Rowan, who already knew about the Dragons' resurrection, everyone who witnessed the Dragons with their own eyes was extremely respectful.
Mace Tyrell sat upright in his seat, looking like a nervous schoolboy listening attentively to a fascinating story.
"Slow down," Daenerys said.
She tossed several pieces of cooked bacon into the air.
The three young Dragons immediately reacted.
They shot toward the food like streaks of lightning.
Their eyes were filled with hunger.
Balerion spread his enormous black wings, stirring up a powerful gust of wind. At the same time, the Green Dragon's neck stretched forward in response to Daenerys's movements, its eyes reflecting the greenery of the newly renovated city.
Balerion was by far the fastest.
With a roar, he opened his mouth and released a swirling stream of black and red flames.
Before the piece of meat could even fall, the flames had already scorched it.
Balerion's sharp black teeth snapped shut.
The Dragon swallowed the meat in one bite before raising its head and letting out a triumphant shriek.
"Hiss... hiss..."
The other two Dragons became restless.
They clearly wanted to steal Balerion's food, but the Black Dragon's intimidating presence prevented them from acting recklessly.
Only when Daenerys threw down more cooked meat did the Green and White Dragons finally rush forward, competing with each other while breathing streams of flame.
The smell of sulfur and smoke gradually filled the air.
Not a single Lord or Knight dared to speak carelessly.
The Dragons might only be the size of small ponies at the moment, but when they spread their wings, the pressure they released was still frightening.
After all, Dragons were considered the most dangerous creatures in the world.
Mace Tyrell carefully kept his distance from them before respectfully addressing Gendry.
"Your Highness, if you were to hold your coronation in the Dragonpit, there would be enough room to accommodate thousands of people. The High Septon could anoint you with holy oil, while your loyal ministers and nobles would place the crown upon your head."
Mace spoke respectfully, but his eyes kept drifting toward the Dragons.
He was constantly calculating the distance between himself and those terrifying creatures.
Dragons were completely unreasonable beasts.
Their flames were closely related to wildfire in terms of destructive power, and there were countless terrifying stories about Dragons whose fire could burn a man until nothing remained.
Mace had no intention of becoming an accidental victim.
Burn injuries could easily become infected, and serious burns were notoriously difficult to treat.
After carefully considering the situation, Mace reached an obvious conclusion.
When faced with absolute power, political tricks were meaningless.
House Tyrell needed to remain firmly attached to Gendry's side.
"It is my coronation," Gendry said calmly, "but if that day comes, I want the honor of placing the crown in the hands of my family and my Hand."
He turned toward Stannis.
"I have decided that my uncle and Hand, Duke Stannis Baratheon, will crown me."
Stannis stepped forward and bowed.
"It would be my honor, Your Highness."
Coronation ceremonies were extremely important in Westeros, and different kings had followed different traditions throughout history.
When the High Septon of Oldtown held significant authority, he would normally perform the coronation.
However, there had also been unusual precedents.
Queen Visenya had once personally crowned her cruel son Maegor.
Later, Lord Commander Criston Cole, known as the Kingmaker, had crowned Aegon II, an act that helped ignite the Dance of the Dragons.
Gendry had little trust in the Faith.
Among his elders, Stannis was one of the few people who was both qualified and trustworthy enough to crown him.
Although Stannis was only in his thirties, his personality was already as hard as iron.
With the Long Winter approaching, Westeros needed someone with such determination.
Ser Barristan was also a suitable candidate.
As for Eddard Stark, however, Gendry would never consider allowing a follower of the Old Gods to crown him.
Besides, Eddard's heart belonged to the North.
Gendry doubted that the Lord of Winterfell would remain deeply involved with the Iron Throne for long.
The North itself was already a burden that required enormous amounts of money and resources.
"If the late King were still alive," Stannis said quietly, "he would certainly be delighted to see you bring glory to our family."
"I hope so," Gendry replied.
"If I can one day place the heads of the Lannisters before him, that would be the greatest comfort I could give my late father."
Stannis's feelings toward his elder brother Robert were complicated.
For most of his life, Stannis had lived beneath Robert's enormous shadow.
Robert had been tall, handsome, loud, and charismatic.
He excelled at drinking, fighting, boasting, hunting, and even attracting women.
No matter what Stannis did, he could never surpass his elder brother's reputation.
At times, Stannis had hated Robert.
But despite everything, Robert was still his brother.
And Stannis had never forgotten that.
You're dead, brother. You fool.
That Lannister woman deceived you, betrayed you, and ultimately helped bring about your death.
Renly betrayed you as well.
You never loved me as much as you loved him.
But you're still my brother.
I will avenge you.
Stannis remembered Robert's broad, greasy face and his unrestrained laughter.
In the end, the three Baratheon brothers had all lost their parents when they were young.
Without proper guidance, their lives had taken very different paths.
But blood remained blood.
Now I am protecting our family.
Just as I did during the rebellion.
I abandoned the king for the sake of my family.
When honor and family came into conflict, I chose family.
Meanwhile, Mace continued discussing the coronation arrangements.
"The coronation is an extremely important occasion, and there are many traditions we could follow."
"With Duke Stannis crowning His Highness and the High Septon anointing him with holy oil, we could also have His Highness crown Princess Daenerys afterward."
"Furthermore, the resurrection of the Dragons is an unprecedented event for the Seven Kingdoms."
"We could follow the old traditions and have the Dragons fly three times around the Dragonpit during the ceremony."
Gendry considered the suggestion.
"That could work."
Stannis nodded.
"However, the Dragonpit's defenses must be strengthened. The safety of the coronation is our highest priority."
"I will protect both of Your Highnesses with my life," Ser Barristan declared.
Earl Randyll immediately spoke up.
"I have been responsible for the renovation of the Dragonpit. I will personally oversee the remaining work."
"And I'll take responsibility for the security along the route," Ser Boros said, patting his chest.
Gendry nodded before adding one final warning.
"Don't forget the foreign envoys."
"I have many friends, but I also have many enemies."
"Pay special attention to people from places such as Lys and Volantis."
"Yes, Your Grace."
Gendry smiled.
"I expect to receive many gifts during my coronation."
"But the most valuable gift will probably come from the representatives of the two Daughter Cities."
His expression became mysterious.
...
Braavos.
The House of the Sea Lord stood near the Purple Harbor, where merchant ships from across the world arrived beneath the massive arches and towers of the city.
Braavos was the northernmost of the great trading cities and was roughly as far north as the Fingers of the Vale.
Consequently, its climate was colder than that of most other Free Cities.
Inside the House of the Sea Lord, Ferrego Antaryon wrapped himself tightly in thick furs.
Several braziers burned nearby, providing additional warmth.
The Sea King had once been a handsome and energetic man from a prominent Braavosi family.
Now, however, illness had ravaged his body.
His hair had turned gray, and even walking outside his room had become difficult.
Standing nearby was Quhuru Mo, the First Sword of Braavos and one of the greatest swordsmen in the world.
Both men wore simple gray-brown clothing, following traditional Braavosi customs.
In Braavos, only assassins tended to dress flamboyantly.
Truly wealthy men, powerful swordsmen, and the mysterious Faceless Men often favored black or other dark colors.
Officials, Keyholders, and judges usually wore plain gray-brown robes.
"When I was young," Ferrego sighed, "I was an exceptional swordsman."
"I was ambitious and energetic. I worked as a moneylender, served as a naval officer, and even traveled as a merchant."
"But now..."
He looked down at his hands.
"I can't even leave this room."
"Your Majesty, you will recover," Quhuru said quietly.
Ferrego smiled bitterly.
"My only regret is the price I paid for this crown."
"I was born with an illness, and then I pushed my body beyond its limits while campaigning to become Sea King."
After a moment of silence, Ferrego looked at Quhuru.
"Have you found that thing?"
"Yes, Your Majesty."
Quhuru reached into his clothes and carefully removed a crown.
It was a beautiful golden circlet decorated with seven different colored gemstones.
This was the crown of Jaehaerys the Conciliator.
"Let me see it."
Ferrego took the crown and examined it carefully.
"What a beautiful piece."
"The seven gemstones symbolize the glory of the Seven Gods."
His expression became thoughtful.
During the early stages of the Dance of the Dragons, Ser Steffon Darklyn of the Kingsguard had fled King's Landing with Jaehaerys's crown and carried it to Rhaenyra Targaryen on Dragonstone.
Rhaenyra had worn it until she was eventually driven from King's Landing by the rioting population.
Later, while in Maidenpool, she sold the crown to a Braavosi merchant to pay for passage back to Dragonstone.
In the end, Rhaenyra was devoured by her brother's Dragon.
"We don't have a Dragon egg," Ferrego said.
"And we certainly don't have Dragons."
"So this crown may be the most valuable gift we can offer."
He looked at Quhuru.
"Have the Moon Singers provided their latest prophecy?"
"No, Your Majesty."
"The priestesses say that the Storm's fate is too powerful. Someone unknown has interfered with their visions, making the future they see extremely unclear."
Ferrego snorted.
"They always have an excuse."
Quhuru hesitated before continuing.
"There is another matter."
"The Red Priests have begun openly proclaiming that the Storm is the savior."
Ferrego's expression remained calm.
"No."
"We will not interfere."
"Other temples will eventually teach them a lesson."
Quhuru nodded before asking:
"What do you think about the Storm's rise?"
"He is an extraordinary warrior," Ferrego replied.
"His liberation of Slaver's Bay was beneficial to the world, and Braavos appreciates what he accomplished."
"But from the perspective of our city's interests, the Storm possesses Dragon blood."
"Perhaps he even possesses the power of Dragons."
"He took away the Liberator's token, and our influence has already been affected."
Quhuru hesitated.
"Your Majesty, would giving this crown to the Baratheon boy really be enough?"
"Many people in Braavos are already complaining that you aren't taking action."
"The Storm's power is expanding too quickly, and his achievements are becoming increasingly terrifying."
"If the legends of Dragons are true and another violent Dragon King eventually emerges, Braavos may be forced to make a difficult choice."
Ferrego smiled faintly.
"It seems those rumors have even reached my own guardian."
"The Storm isn't our enemy."
"His enemies are the slave masters and the Long Winter."
"If he accepts the responsibilities of a king, he won't have the freedom to fight on three fronts."
"For Braavos, maintaining stability is the most important thing."
Quhuru nodded.
"Where did these rumors originate?" Ferrego asked.
"I suspect some officers of the Purple Fleet and merchants who are unhappy about the Storm's control over the Stepstones trade routes."
"No."
Ferrego rubbed his forehead.
"They don't have enough influence to spread rumors this far."
"Tormo Fregar..."
"I don't want him speaking behind my back anymore."
Tormo Fregar was one of the strongest candidates to become the next Sea King, and his family possessed an extremely prestigious background.
"Lord Tormo wouldn't act so impatiently, would he?" Quhuru asked.
"I'm not dead yet."
Ferrego's voice contained a hint of anger.
"What's he rushing for?"
"The most important quality in trade is foresight."
"And the Sea King's foresight must be even greater."
"Everyone wants peace, but I understand that different factions will naturally have different opinions."
"The Iron Bank certainly likes this boy."
"He pays on time and never defaults."
"In the future, when he rebuilds King's Landing and prepares for the Long Winter, he will probably borrow even more money from the Iron Bank."
"Someone who owes the Iron Bank that much money isn't someone they will easily abandon."
"The Iron Bank will naturally favor him."
"But what about the other forces?" Quhuru asked.
"Braavos has three great pillars: banking, fishing, and trade."
"The Purple Fleet and the major fishing merchants may not be so optimistic if the future seas fall completely under the Storm's influence."
Ferrego waved his hand.
"There's no need to be so alarmist."
"I have always believed that one should plan before taking action."
"The Long Winter is our friend."
"If handled correctly, we can profit even more from the Storm."
"Braavos is not inferior to anyone militarily. But military force isn't our greatest strength."
"Coercion and negotiation are what we truly excel at."
"But what if they have Dragons?" Quhuru asked.
"Dragons grow extremely quickly."
"What if, five or ten years from now, those Dragons become enormous?"
Ferrego snorted.
"We weren't afraid of the Dragons of Aegon the Conqueror or Jaehaerys the Conciliator."
"Why should we fear these small Dragons?"
"As long as they don't provoke us, everyone benefits."
"And with the Long Winter approaching, that boy will already have more than enough problems to deal with."
"I hope he understands that I prefer peace."
Quhuru nodded.
"I understand, Your Majesty."
Ferrego leaned back into his chair.
"As for attending the events in Westeros..."
Quhuru immediately shook his head.
"I cannot leave you alone. I must personally observe everything."
"Your apprentices are more than capable of handling any crisis."
"But what about the Faceless Men?"
"Our ancestors established a rule that the Faceless Men are not permitted to interfere in Braavos's internal political struggles."
"Although every Sea King has respected and feared their power, we have always maintained certain defensive measures."
Ferrego smiled.
"Besides, I am old and sick."
"To the people of Braavos, I am more trustworthy than some ambitious new Sea King."
"You only need to deliver the gifts."
He paused, then smiled mischievously.
"Perhaps you can even bring a woman with you."
"The beautiful Black Pearl is apparently very interested in meeting this new King of Westeros."
________________________________________
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