"Jaehaerys, move!"
Daeron's voice cut through the wind. Jaehaerys turned, confused, only catching the shout but not the words. The next second a sharp whistle rang out—Daeron's signal to follow.
Caraxes banked hard and dropped lower. Toothless wheeled once in the air before falling in behind him. Jaehaerys recognized the whistle and pulled Valar away from the Jade Gate, chasing after his brother without hesitation.
They had worked out the whistle system for exactly this kind of situation. Talking while flying was nearly impossible, especially when the wind was loud and the dragons were moving fast.
Below them, Qohor's massive harbor came into view. Ships were pulling in, sailors hauling sails, when a bronze dragon suddenly dove and let out a stream of fire that hissed into the water.
Panic hit the docks instantly.
People screamed and scattered. Some had never seen a dragon before. Others recognized the shape but still couldn't believe what they were looking at. The Qohorik merchants who had been waiting near the harbor went pale under their scarves and quickly tried to melt into the crowd.
Valar slammed down onto the stone, wings flaring wide. Jaehaerys looked over the terrified guards and raised his voice.
"The King of the Iron Throne is here. Bring out your royal family."
The guards stared at him like he'd just asked them to jump into the sea. One of them tried to speak but could barely get the words out.
Before anyone could answer, a whistle cut through the air again.
A streak of red tore across the sky. Caraxes came in low, fire already pouring from his jaws. The blast hit one of the watchtowers, turning the men inside into screaming torches. The structure went up fast.
Jaehaerys didn't even look at the burning tower. He just stared at the remaining guards.
"I said bring your royal family. Don't make me ask again."
---
Inside the Palace of a Thousand Thrones, the Qohorik royals were already losing their minds.
A messenger had burst in shouting about dragons at the harbor. Now half a dozen of them were arguing at once, voices overlapping.
One of the younger ones, Masos, looked around the room. "If the Dragon King is really here, why the hell would he come all this way just to threaten us?"
Another voice cut in. "The one at the harbor is supposed to be a boy. That would be Jaehaerys Targaryen, the younger brother."
Someone else muttered, "Then where's Daeron?"
The room went quiet for a second.
A merchant from the Baelish Guild appeared near the docks, hood pulled low. He approached Jaehaerys with careful steps and a polite smile that didn't reach his eyes.
"Prince Jaehaerys," the man said smoothly. "The Baelish Guild would be happy to assist the Iron Throne in any way we can. We know what you're looking for."
Jaehaerys raised an eyebrow but didn't answer.
The merchant leaned in slightly. "Please don't mention our conversation to the royal family. We'd prefer to stay… uninvolved."
Then he was gone, slipping back into the crowd like he'd never been there.
Moments later, a group of actual royal representatives arrived with guards and slaves in tow. They tried to look composed, but the moment Caraxes dropped out of the sky and landed close enough for them to feel the heat rolling off his scales, that composure shattered.
The red dragon was massive. Even standing still, he radiated danger. The three royals at the front looked like they were about to piss themselves.
Daeron sat on Caraxes' back, calm and relaxed, like he was just out for a ride.
"I'm Daeron Targaryen," he said, voice carrying clearly. "King of the Iron Throne. You wanted to meet the man in charge? Here I am."
He looked over the frozen group without any warmth in his eyes.
"Now. Let's talk about that dragon egg you people have."