Daeron returned to King's Landing ahead of schedule and went straight to Shaena.
"Missed you."
Shaena's belly had a gentle curve now. She opened her arms and pulled him in without hesitation.
Daeron let her hold him, one hand resting lightly on the swell of her stomach.
"How have you been feeling?"
"No morning sickness," Shaena said. "Great-Uncle Aemon says everything looks fine."
Daeron stayed with her for a while, talking quietly. She told him the lords from the North and the Vale had already set sail and would arrive soon.
"Stark's behaving himself," Daeron murmured. "No signs he's trying to isolate himself."
He hadn't summoned them because he needed more soldiers. This was politics.
Lady Olenna had been right. Fairness mattered. If only the Crownlands and the Westerlands got to fight and win glory while the Reach, North, and Vale were left watching, resentment would build.
This next war was also a loyalty test.
So far, the Starks were passing. The rest of the realm was still manageable.
"Brother! Brother, I'm here!"
Viserys's loud voice echoed down the corridor, followed by running footsteps.
Daeron opened the door, grabbed him by the collar, and shoved him against the wall.
"Stop shouting like you're calling ghosts."
Viserys didn't even flinch. He grinned instead.
"Brother, I tamed Alex!"
Daeron let go. He gave the kid some credit.
At least he hadn't completely embarrassed the family.
"You did well," Daeron said. "You didn't disgrace us."
Viserys puffed up immediately.
"You and Jaehaerys already fought in real battles. When we go to war with the Triarchy, you have to take me with you."
Daeron raised an eyebrow. "You?"
"I have a dragon now," Viserys said, offended.
Daeron couldn't help smiling. "Relax. You'll get your chance."
He grew serious again. "I'm sending you with Jaehaerys to the Stepstones. You'll hunt stray pirates and get some real experience. Don't disappoint me."
Viserys straightened his back. "I won't. I'll show those pirates what true dragon blood looks like."
Daeron waved him away.
Viserys left grinning like an idiot.
Barristan stepped forward once the boy was gone, a small smile on his face.
"The prince has quite the cheerful spirit."
Daeron gave him a dry look. "Your flattery is getting better, Ser."
Barristan's expression turned serious. "Your Grace, Lord Corlton has requested an emergency Small Council meeting. He says it's urgent."
---
In the council chamber, Lord Corlton looked exhausted. Dark circles ringed his eyes and his face was drawn.
"Your Grace, Lord Stark and Lord Royce are already on their way," he reported. "Per your orders, Lord Randyll Tarly has left for Bitterbridge and will reach King's Landing soon."
Daeron nodded, then looked at the tired man with genuine concern.
"Lord Corlton, get some rest after this. The realm needs you."
"Thank you, Your Grace."
Corlton managed a weak smile. Being Hand while Tywin was away in Tyrosh was grinding him down. Moving supplies and calling banners was exhausting when you didn't have Tywin's authority.
Daeron didn't press. He already knew the problem.
He turned to Lord Mace instead.
"I sent orders to House Tyrell and House Hightower to prepare support for the Tyrosh front. How did that go?"
"Everything is proceeding smoothly, Your Grace," Mace said quickly.
Daeron gave a short nod.
After taking Tyrosh, the lack of capable people under him had become obvious. But war with Myr was coming fast. He couldn't afford to wait for perfect talent.
He would use what he had and bring in more houses. The Tyrells and Hightowers needed to be kept busy and invested. Let them earn glory or at least stay occupied.
It also helped balance power.
His thoughts drifted to Lord Lucerys Velaryon and irritation flickered across his face.
House Velaryon was getting too comfortable. Lucerys had bought and armed a fleet with those secret wind-rider sails without telling him until after the fact. Now he was acting like he personally owned the royal fleet and using it for his own trade runs while pretending to hunt pirates.
The man was getting arrogant.
"Lord Corlton, have ships and supplies prepared. We're going to war with Myr."
Daeron's tone shifted completely. The brief concern for Corlton's health was already gone.
New Ghis had fallen. The Triarchy would almost certainly strike at Tyrosh while they thought he was distracted.
This next fight would decide the shape of things to come.
Corlton straightened. "Yes, Your Grace."
---
After the meeting, Daeron stayed behind and motioned for Varys to remain.
Varys waited until the others left, then spoke in his soft voice.
"Your Grace, nothing major has happened in the Seven Kingdoms recently. The only thing worth noting is that House Tyrell and House Martell are growing closer."
Daeron wasn't surprised.
With the Lannisters rising fast by clinging to the crown, the Tyrells had missed their chance to get close to the royal family. Rather than keep trying and failing, they were looking for new allies.
Varys tilted his head. "There are rumors that Willas Tyrell may be betrothed to Princess Arianne Martell."
"Arianne and those little Sand Snakes are still here in the Red Keep, aren't they?"
"So these are just rumors," Varys said. His eyes gleamed. "My little birds heard something more interesting. Prince Doran is considering marrying his daughter Arianne to Prince Viserys instead."
Daeron let out a short laugh.
It wasn't a bad idea on paper.
If Doran was willing to cut ties with Rhaegar and prove his loyalty to the Iron Throne, then marrying Arianne to Viserys was something he could consider.
"Viserys isn't picky," Daeron said. "He'll probably like a passionate Dornish girl."
As the Iron Throne expanded into Essos, the old strict standards for royal marriages would have to loosen. His own line was secure. His brothers could marry for political advantage.
Houses like Martell and Hightower were strong enough to be useful.
Daeron made a mental note about Lynesse Hightower. She was beautiful, but spoiled. As long as she wasn't faithless, it could still work.
He sighed. "The bigger the plate, the more people want a slice."
He needed more capable hands. Real heavy hitters like Tywin.
Both House Martell and House Hightower were powerful enough to carry real weight.
"Varys, send more of your little birds to Slaver's Bay. Especially Meereen. I want everything on House Lorak."
Xizdala Zo Lorak was a major player in Meereen and a key link between Slaver's Bay and the Free Cities. Watching him closely might reveal something useful.
Varys bowed. "As you command, Your Grace."
Daeron watched him leave, expression unreadable.
Varys was useful for now. Loyal enough.
If the man ever decided to report that Illyrio still had a Blackfyre bastard hidden in Pentos and offered to hand the boy over, that would be even better.
"Pentos is only an ally on the surface," Daeron thought. "They're not trustworthy either."
They were still trying to raise their own fake dragonlord with Blackfyre blood.
Daeron hadn't moved against them yet. He was simply keeping score.
One day he would settle all of it.
For now, he only cared about two things.
First, conquer the Triarchy and secure new territory in Essos before the Long Summer ended.
Second, make sure Shaena's child was born healthy and that his own bloodline continued.
Everything else could wait.
He stood up and took the mud-colored dragon egg from his pouch.
The family had more dragons than dragonriders again.
He needed more children to claim the eggs he had worked so hard to recover.
---
Dorne. The Water Gardens.
Prince Doran sat watching the children play, his expression distant. Arianne and Quentyn were gone. Rhaegar and Lyanna's two children had been recalled to King's Landing. Even Oberyn's Sand Snakes had left with them.
"What are you thinking about, brother?"
Oberyn walked over, casually biting into an apple.
"Careful," his paramour Ellaria Sand said, leaning against him. She wiped juice from his mouth with her finger and licked it clean.
Oberyn patted her backside and sent her away with a look.
Once they were alone, he studied his brother's face.
"You're missing the children," Oberyn said. "They're fine. They're in good places. Like snakes dropped in the desert — they'll learn to hunt on their own."
Doran was quiet for a moment.
"Oberyn," he said at last, "it's time you got married."
Oberyn made a face.
"I like my life the way it is," he said bluntly. "I sleep with whoever I want. If you try to force me into a marriage, you might as well just kill me."
Doran didn't look surprised by his brother's tastes.
"Because of Rhaegar, House Martell is isolated and under suspicion," Doran said. "We need new allies."
"What about Willas Tyrell?" Oberyn suggested. "He's young, capable, and heir to Highgarden. Marrying Arianne to him would be a strong match."
"You're not wrong," Doran admitted. "But I have other plans for Arianne's marriage."
He had hopes for his daughter.
Especially now that Visenya had been taken back to King's Landing and Quentyn's future marriage was uncertain.
Ideally, Arianne would marry into the royal family. If that failed, she could at least secure Quentyn's position by marrying Visenya.
Oberyn kept eating his apple, watching his brother carefully.
He could already tell Doran was being unfair to Arianne.
In the end, it always came back to wanting to climb higher by tying themselves to House Targaryen.
Doran looked back at him.
"I've been in contact with Lady Olenna. Both sides are interested in an alliance. What do you think about betrothing Trystane to Mace Tyrell's daughter, Margaery?"
Trystane was Doran's youngest son.
Oberyn shrugged. "Do what you want."
He didn't care whether House Martell allied with House Tyrell or not. Neither house could challenge Targaryen rule anyway.
What he really wanted to know was whether Rhaegar had found anything useful in the Smoking Sea.
If Rhaegar managed to bring back a dragon egg, then his niece Rhaenys might finally have a chance to become a dragonrider.