At the foot of the Bloodstone peaks, the body of the Pirate King lay headless in the dust. Sharak had been a king for a day, and he had died with the only crown he ever truly owned—a circle of driftwood and ambition.
Bronze Yohn Royce led the search parties into the caves. They found no warriors, only the hollowed-out corpses of those who had starved in the dark. The searchers dragged out the pirate banners, the broken weapons, and the piles of ill-gotten loot, stacking them in a massive pyre at the cave mouth.
Rhaegar stood before the gathered army. He held up Sharak's crude crown, the gold and sea glass glinting in the sun.
"The King of the Narrow Sea is dead!" Rhaegar announced, his voice carrying over the wind. "Bloodstone is pacified!"
He threw the crown onto the pyre.
"Dracarys!"
The Silver Emperor, hovering above, unleashed a torrent of fire. The dry wood and pirate silks caught instantly, roaring into an inferno that consumed the last vestiges of the pirate kingdom. The crown melted, the gold running like tears into the ash.
[System Notification: Achievement Unlocked - Crown Smasher.]
[Description: Crowns are not indestructible. Blood and fire can shatter them. Only a true king is worthy of the weight.]
I have smashed two crowns now, Rhaegar thought. The Bandit King of the Kingswood, and the Pirate King of the Stepstones. But they were false kings. Perhaps the Free Princes of Essos are next.
The army dispersed, cheering. Prince Aerys, Tywin Lannister, and Steffon Baratheon rode forward to meet him. They were a trio of splendor. Aerys in black plate inlaid with rubies, Tywin in crimson silk and enameled steel, Steffon in silver and gold stag armor.
Rhaegar presented the box containing Sharak's head to his father.
"For the King," Rhaegar said, bowing.
"This is your glory, my boy!" Aerys beamed, raising Rhaegar's arm. "Look at him! The Dragon Reborn!"
The soldiers roared their approval. "Long live Prince Rhaegar! Long live House Targaryen!"
But beneath the celebration, the reality of occupation was setting in.
That evening, in the command tent, the mood was more somber. The map table was crowded with lords and knights—Ser Barristan, Ser Brynden, Lord Mace Tyrell, Prince Lewyn Martell, and the others.
"Ser Lucerys, Lord Mace," Rhaegar said, cutting through the congratulations. "I hear my father has ordered an increase in the tolls for passing ships?"
"Yes, my Prince," Mace replied, looking pleased with himself. "The war was expensive. It is only right that the merchants pay their share."
"We control the strait now," Ser Lucerys added. "Prince Aerys wanted to triple the rates. Lord Tywin convinced him to merely double them."
Rhaegar frowned. Excessive taxation was what had turned the Triarchy from protectors into tyrants in the eyes of Westeros during the last war. Now, the roles were reversed.
"Be careful," Rhaegar warned quietly. "Greed feeds rebellion. The Free Cities are merchants first. If you touch their gold, they will find their courage."
He didn't press the issue publicly. He couldn't undermine his father or Tywin in front of the bannermen. But he knew this would provoke a response.
"Stay alert," Rhaegar told his commanders. "The pirates are gone, but the war is not over. Keep the men drilling. Inspect the ships."
The lords nodded, sensing the steel in his voice. They knew who the real power in the room was.
Later, Rhaegar took the Silver Emperor out for a patrol. He flew east, toward the edge of the Stepstones, where the islands faded into the open ocean.
He landed on a small, uninhabited reef near the territorial waters of Tyrosh. He waited.
An hour later, a sleek Tyroshi pleasure barge appeared, flying a neutral flag. It anchored off the reef, and a small boat rowed to shore.
Shireen of Tyrosh stepped onto the sand.
She looked like a vision from a painting. Her blue-green hair was woven with silver ribbons, and her dress was a cascade of sea-foam silk. She smiled as she approached him, the scent of pear brandy drifting on the breeze.
"They call you the Butcher of the Narrow Sea now," she said, her eyes dancing. "But I have never seen a butcher quite so handsome."
"I am not a courtier today, Lady Shireen," Rhaegar said, though he softened his posture. He wore a simple black tunic with the silver dragon clasp, the uniform of a Valyrian lord rather than a Westerosi knight. "War makes monsters of us all. You are still the Pearl of Tyrosh."
"Flattery will get you everywhere," Shireen laughed, stepping close enough to touch his arm. "Even in Tyrosh, the girls whisper your name. They say you ride a dragon made of silver and fire. They wonder if you are as passionate in..."
She let the sentence hang, her smile turning mischievous.
Rhaegar's pulse quickened, but he kept his face impassive. "You didn't come here to talk about girls, Shireen."
"No," she sighed, her expression turning serious. "I didn't."
She looked out at the eastern horizon.
"Lys and Myr have stopped arguing," she said quietly. "They have formed a coalition. Fifty warships. Heavy galleys, fully crewed with unsullied and sellswords. They sailed from Lys yesterday."
"Fifty," Rhaegar repeated. It was a significant force.
"They claim they are coming to 'protect free trade'," Shireen continued. "But my father says they are coming to break your blockade. They know you are taxing the ships. They know you are exhausted."
"Let them come," Rhaegar said, his hand going to the hilt of his sword. "I have three dragons. And I am not tired."
"Be careful, Rhaegar," Shireen warned, squeezing his arm. "Dragons are powerful, but fifty scorpions firing at once... even a god can bleed."
"Then I will just have to burn them before they can fire," Rhaegar said.
He looked at her. "Thank you for the warning."
"Consider it part of our deal," Shireen said. She leaned up and kissed him on the cheek, lingering for a moment. "Don't die, Dragon Prince. It would be a terrible waste."
She turned and walked back to her boat.
Rhaegar watched her go, then mounted the Silver Emperor.
Fifty ships. The storm was coming from the east.
"Wake up, friend," he whispered to the dragon. "We have work to do."
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