"The Faith in King's Landing... where did they get such wealth?" Aemond asked, a hint of curiosity in his voice.
"My Lord, it is unknown," Kermit shook his head.
"But according to our intelligence, the Faith has suddenly come into a vast sum of money over the past few months."
Aemond fell silent. He had already begun to guess what the Faith was plotting.
Kermit continued, "That grain was being hoarded by the Faith in several warehouses across the city. And then..."
"And then?"
"The night before last, those warehouses suddenly caught fire. All the grain was incinerated."
The forest was plunged into a heavy silence.
Moonlight filtered through the gaps in the leaves, illuminating Aemond's face.
That exquisite face remained expressionless, but both Kermit and Cat felt a chill, a coldness that seemed to seep from the very marrow of his bones.
"What is the Faith's official word?" Aemond asked.
"The Faith claims it was arson committed by agents of the Blacks," Kermit replied.
"The Septons are preaching throughout the city, saying Rhaenyra sent assassins to burn the food so that King's Landing would fall into famine."
Aemond let out a cold sneer.
"And let me guess... are there now rumors circulating in the city that we Targaryens are fighting a war with total disregard for the lives of the common people?"
Kermit looked up, a flash of surprise in his eyes.
"The Prince Regent is wise."
"Tell me more."
Kermit took a deep breath and began to report.
"Rumors are rife throughout the city. An old man nicknamed 'The Shepherd' claims that the Targaryen kinslaying is a divine punishment from the Seven. Others say the Blacks care nothing for whether the commoners starve as long as they reclaim the throne. Some say the Greens view the commoners as grass; that the Red Keep clearly has ample stores but is sitting idle while King's Landing starves, waiting to sell the grain at a high price later."
He paused, his voice dropping even lower.
"And some say... say that you, Lord Regent, intend to usurp the throne from His Majesty Aegon."
Cat watched Aemond nervously. But Aemond did not grow angry; his expression didn't even flicker.
He simply listened in silence.
"These are the classic precursors to an uprising," Aemond said dismissively.
Kermit and Cat exchanged a look and nodded in unison.
"In your opinion, what is the Faith truly after?" Aemond questioned the two.
They faltered, not understanding why the Prince Regent would ask them.
"The Faith... why are they doing this?" Aemond continued.
"What is it they ultimately want?"
Kermit hesitated, then spoke cautiously.
"Perhaps... perhaps more power? During the coronation, the Lord Regent already granted them many privileges..."
"Power?" Aemond interrupted him.
"What they want is far more than that."
He looked up at the sky; the moonlight was pale, and the stars were sparse.
"They want to slay dragons."
Both Kermit and Cat froze.
'Slaying dragons? The Faith wants to kill the dragons?'
"Do you know the Dragonpit?" Aemond asked.
Without waiting for an answer, he went on,
"The dragons in King's Landing... many of House Targaryen's dragons are kept there. They are chained. If one day the commoners of the city riot and storm the Dragonpit, what do you think will happen?"
Kermit's face turned pale.
"Thousands. Tens of thousands, charging forward wave after wave. A dragon can breathe fire, bite, and tear enemies apart, but inside the Dragonpit, it cannot fly. A dragon can tire, be wounded, and die. If the mob is large enough and frenzied enough, they can pile onto a dragon until it dies."
He turned to look at the two men.
"That is what the Faith wants. They want to incite a riot, storm the Dragonpit, and slaughter every Targaryen dragon. Afterward, the Faith can say with feigned pity that it was a tragedy caused by the rioting rabble of the city."
A deathly stillness fell over the forest. Even Morghul seemed to hold his breath.
Those golden eyes fixed on Aemond, as if waiting for something.
Aemond paused, a sliver of a smile appearing on his lips.
"But they have forgotten one thing."
Kermit followed up tremulously, "What... what thing?"
"I am not Maegor."
Aemond's voice was soft, yet every word struck the two men's hearts like a hammer.
'I will be far more than Maegor.'
"Maegor only knew how to kill blindly. The more, the better; the faster, the better. He didn't distinguish between friend or foe, or care for the occasion. That is why he died."
Aemond looked at them, his purple eye glinting in the moonlight.
"But I will not. I know when to kill and when not to. I know exactly how many deaths are appropriate and which deaths are useful. I kill so that people fear me, not so that they hate me."
Aemond took a deep breath, as if suppressing something within.
"If they want to play, I will play with them. Let them continue spreading their lies and inciting the people. Let them all expose themselves, and when the time comes..."
He didn't finish the sentence, but Kermit and Cat understood.
When the time comes, they would be swept up in a single net.
"Lord Regent," Kermit summoned his courage to ask, "when that time comes... how many will die?"
Aemond looked at him and answered coldly, "I don't know. Perhaps ten thousand, perhaps tens of thousands. Perhaps more. It gives us a legitimate reason to kill them, does it not?"
Kermit and Cat's faces turned white.
"Do you think they are pitiable?" Aemond spoke for him.
"Think they were incited, that they are innocent and shouldn't die?"
Kermit said nothing, but his silence was his answer. Aemond looked at him and suddenly smiled. It wasn't a smile of mockery, but one of a strange... pity?
"Are they pitiable? Yes. But does being pitiable mean they shouldn't die? When it is time to die, they must die all the same. That is the way of the world; there is never any reason to be found in it. This world exists for those who are stronger."
Kermit remained silent.
"It is not I who wishes to kill them," Aemond said.
"If they do nothing, I will not lift a finger." He turned and walked toward Morghul.
"Watch them. Let them keep doing what they are doing. Let everyone reveal themselves. It is they who wish to kill us; I am merely waiting for them to strike. When that happens, I will let the Seven Kingdoms know what happens when you push a Targaryen too far... and just how ruthless we can be."
"Yes," Kermit and Cat replied in unison.
Aemond's silhouette began to merge into the darkness, leaving only his voice echoing back.
"Once the riot begins, ensure the safe evacuation of everyone in the Royal Family."
"Rest easy, Lord Regent," Kermit raised his voice.
"We have already prepared small boats in the tunnels beneath the Red Keep that lead to the sea caves. If anything happens, we can guarantee the safety of the entire Royal Family."
A soft chuckle came from the darkness.
"Excellent."
Then, everything fell silent. Kermit and Cat stood rooted to the spot. It wasn't until Morghul's golden eyes vanished in the darkness and the night wind scattered the scent that they slowly raised their heads and looked at each other.
Both of their eyes held a deep, lingering fear.
It wasn't fear of the enemy. It was the fear of Aemond. The Prince Regent was truly capable of anything.
Morghul flew through the night sky. Aemond rode on his back, feeling the night wind howling past his ears.
Below, the outline of Rook's Rest grew more distant until it vanished into the dark.
His heart was beating rapidly. That sensation was returning, the restless, agitated power in his blood, roaring like a beast trying to break its chains.
He knew what it was. Since returning from Dragonstone, this feeling had become more frequent.
Every time he killed, every time he contemplated slaughter, it would appear.
His bloodline was evolving. That was what Alys Rivers had said.
She said his souls were merging, his bloodline was awakening.
The power of the ancient Valyrian Dragonlords was reviving within him.
Common blades could not wound him. Common poisons could not kill him. He was resistant to dragonfire and possessed an affinity for flames.
He could hatch eggs with his own blood, accelerate a dragon's growth, and control young drakes.
He was no mortal. He was a True Dragon. A dragon in human form.
Morghul sensed his emotions and let out an excited shriek.
The sound echoed through the night, startling countless birds in the forest below.
Aemond closed his eyes, allowing that violence to liberate his nature. He hadn't wanted it to be this way, but he had to take this step...
A riot? Let it come. Let the mob storm the Dragonpit. Let the fanatics of the Faith incite the masses.
Let the old fools of the Citadel plot. When the time comes, he would show them the true meaning of fear.
He would be stronger than Maegor. He would be more ruthless than Maegor.
He would tread over their corpses and let them know what it meant to be an enemy of House Targaryen.
-----
A/N:
If you are enjoying the start of the story.
Drop some stones to help this book reach higher.
You can read upto 40+ Chapters. + Images
You can also read "+2 Free Chapters".
www.patreon.com/
LastDreamer