Listening to Gaemon's words, King Jaehaerys fell silent. For as long as he could remember, his impression of the Citadel had always been favorable.
The Citadel was different from the Faith. The Faith not only wielded immense influence but also owned vast lands through its septs and monasteries, and it never lacked for gold—the famous tithe saw to that.
Faced with such a colossal power that possessed both land and wealth, any ruler would naturally turn his blade against it.
Add to that the fact that House Targaryen's marriage customs openly defied the doctrines of the Seven, and the conflict between the Crown and the Faith had simmered ever since Aegon's Conquest. What began as ideological disagreement gradually escalated into armed confrontation. Maegor the Cruel had even ridden Balerion the Black Dread to burn septs and hunt down followers of the Seven.
At the height of that struggle, the Faith and House Targaryen had come perilously close to open war.
Only after Jaehaerys took the throne in his own right did true reconciliation occur. The Faith agreed to disband its military orders—the Poor Fellows and the Warrior's Sons. In return, the Crown promised to uphold the worship of the Seven and protect its faithful. This agreement became known as the Doctrine of Exceptionalism.
On the surface, the Crown had crushed the Faith's power. In reality, the price had been steep.
Jaehaerys and Alysanne's marriage had drawn fierce protests from the Faith. Even Queen Dowager Alyssa and Regent Rogar Baratheon, seeking stability, had repeatedly tried to undermine the union. Only after Jaehaerys came of age and reclaimed his full authority did the pressure ease.
Thus, in Jaehaerys's mind, the Faith had always been a force to watch with deep wariness.
By contrast, the Citadel—the institution that controlled education, knowledge, and learning across Westeros—had never made any overt moves against the Crown.
For thousands of years, the maesters trained at the Citadel had faithfully kept their vows, serving the lords to whom they were assigned without apparent political interference. They operated like shadows in the light: always present, yet somehow easy to overlook.
"Gaemon, you believe the Citadel is a threat?"
After a long pause, Jaehaerys finally spoke, his voice low.
Gaemon nodded firmly. "Not merely a threat, Father. The Citadel is like Westeros's shadow—the unseen king. It is a serpent coiled in the dark, quietly directing the course of the entire continent."
Jaehaerys's expression grew heavy, but he did not interrupt. He listened in silence.
Baelon, who had been drinking quietly beside his father, set his cup down. His ears pricked up, waiting for what Gaemon would say next.
Seeing their reactions, Gaemon continued without pause.
"The Citadel's core belief is in evidence, observation, and logic. It seeks to build a world ruled by human reason, free of magic and mysticism. Yet our family rules Westeros through dragons and sorcery. In the eyes of the Citadel's philosophy, House Targaryen is the very opposite of what they preach—we are the destroyers of their ideals. How do you think they view us?"
"Although the Citadel requires its maesters to swear loyalty to the castle they serve rather than any single family, in practice the system is riddled with contradictions. According to what Vaegon has observed during his time there, the atmosphere inside the Citadel is far from friendly toward our family. Many records are forbidden to him. I do not know whether those locked archives contain knowledge that could threaten us, but overall, the Citadel is not our friend. It is very likely working against us in secret."
Jaehaerys's face grew even graver. Baelon's expression had already darkened.
If Gaemon was right, the Citadel's threat was obvious. This was no longer a simple struggle for power between nobles and the Crown—it was a clash of worldviews. Such conflicts were the most dangerous of all, the kind that ended only when one side was destroyed.
Baelon's voice turned cold. "Father, let me take Vhagar and burn the Citadel to the ground. These people are too dangerous to be allowed to exist."
Jaehaerys's brows drew together tightly. His violet eyes were deep as still water, yet a glint of icy light flickered within them. Still, he raised a hand to stop his son.
"We cannot act yet. The Citadel has not done anything overt. If we destroy it now, the legitimacy and authority of the Crown will be questioned by every lord in the realm. We cannot move against them directly unless there is no other choice. We must catch them by the tail first, then strike a killing blow."
By the time he finished speaking, Jaehaerys's voice carried open killing intent and barely restrained fury.
Hearing both his father and brother speak, Gaemon added calmly, "We do not need to strike immediately. We can build our own university first, then slowly dismantle the Citadel from within. In time, the Citadel's importance will fade, and its influence across the continent will weaken. Besides, not everyone inside the Citadel is our enemy. The larger an organization, the more factions it contains. We need to find people within the Citadel who are willing to help us. We must plant the royal banner inside its walls."
Jaehaerys's cold gaze softened. The corners of his mouth curved slightly as he looked at Gaemon.
"Vaegon is the one you intend to plant as our banner inside the Citadel, I assume?"
Gaemon shook his head. "No, Father. Vaegon's royal identity is too obvious. It prevents him from truly integrating into the Citadel. We need someone with no visible ties to the Crown—someone who can lay the groundwork for us without drawing suspicion."
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