Two days.
Rook's Rest had held for only two days.
Aemond Targaryen stood on the high slope outside the city, looking down at the still-smoking castle. The banner of House Staunton had vanished from the city, replaced by the royal standard—the golden dragon on black—snapping in the evening breeze.
Behind him stood the black dragon Lothron, the scars on his dragon head still visible.
Below the slope were the commanders and soldiers who had participated in this battle. The Praetorian Guard under Galwyn Hightower, the Royal Army under Ser William Darklyn, the vassal army raised from across the Crownlands, and Aemond's personal guard. They stood at the front, clad in white armor with the three-headed black dragon on their breasts.
"Rook's Rest has fallen," Aemond's voice was not loud, but it was clearly audible in the open space. "The rebel leader Cassian Staunton has been captured. Every man who participated in this battle shall receive due reward."
Light applause rose from the assembly.
Aemond raised his hand, and the applause ceased.
He began to name the recipients of rewards: Ser So-and-so fought bravely, captured a dragon, and was promoted to castellan of a certain fortress; a certain knight was first to scale the wall, granted a manor and raised to knighthood; a certain soldier killed three enemies and was rewarded...
One by one, the named men stepped forward, knelt on one knee, and received their rewards. Their faces were full of excitement and pride.
In the middle of the ceremony, Hal Bellere approached Aemond and whispered a few words.
Aemond's gaze fell on a slender figure in the crowd.
It was a youth, no more than thirteen or fourteen years old, with silver hair that stood out in the crowd. He wore worn leather armor, covered in blood and dust, his face dirty, but his eyes—those blue eyes—were remarkably bright.
"Who is that boy?" Aemond asked curiously.
"A Velaryon bastard," Hal lowered his voice. "His name is Alyn Waters. In this battle, he followed the surrendered Velaryon army in the assault on the city. When he climbed the wall, he killed a knight with his dagger."
Aemond raised an eyebrow.
Oakenfist? That Alyn?
Interesting.
"Bring him here."
Hal waved to the youth.
The boy was momentarily stunned, then quickly stepped forward and knelt on one knee before Aemond. His movements were precise, clearly trained—unusual for a bastard to receive formal squire training.
"Lord Regent," the boy's voice was somewhat nervous, but fairly steady. "My name is Alyn Waters. I am a bastard. I hope to serve you, for His Grace Aegon, for the kingdom..."
Aemond did not speak, simply looking at the youth.
Silver hair, blue eyes, handsome features—typical Valyrian descendants. But in those eyes, Aemond saw something else. Ambition—a vigorous ambition, though now consciously suppressed, could not be hidden.
"Is your father Corlys?"
This question was like a pebble thrown into still water, causing ripples. The surrounding commanders and nobles exchanged glances; some faces showed shock.
Corlys Velaryon? That traitor? How dare his bastard son appear here?
Alyn's face changed, but he quickly composed himself. He knew this was a deadly dangerous question; if answered poorly, he would likely fall where he knelt.
"My lord, my father is not Corlys," Alyn raised his gaze and looked directly into Aemond's eyes. "I swear to you and the Seven that my father is Lucerys Velaryon. He died more than ten years ago. He was the younger brother of the current Lord Corlys Velaryon."
Aemond considered for a moment.
"Who is your mother?"
"Marda," Alyn lowered his head. "She... she is a boatman's daughter from High Tide."
Aemond looked quietly at the boy.
Alyn Waters. The future famous Oakenfist.
From a bastard of House Velaryon, he would marry Daemon's daughter, Baela Targaryen, leading to the revival of the declining House Velaryon and becoming a famous figure in Westerosi history. But after him, the Velaryons produced no outstanding figures, eventually declining into a minor house.
The Sea Snake Corlys decided to pass the family legacy to a bastard largely because of Alyn's abilities.
"I heard from Hal that you do not want a reward?" Aemond asked.
Alyn raised his head, hesitated for a moment, then steeled himself to speak.
"Lord Regent, I do not need a reward. I only ask one thing of you."
"Speak."
"Please pardon my mother," Alyn's voice trembled slightly. "She was imprisoned at Moonspire, laboring with the immigrants from High Tide. She is an ordinary woman who never participated in any rebellion. I beg you to pardon her and set her free."
Aemond glanced at Hal.
Hal nodded. "I will send word to Moonspire at once."
Alyn's eyes lit up, and he bowed deeply. "Thank you, Lord Regent! Thank you, Regent!"
"I heard that you are a squire?" Aemond asked.
"Yes," Alyn replied. "The knight I served died a few days ago..."
"Then you will serve beside me from now on."
Alyn was stunned for a moment. The people around him were also astonished.
A thirteen-year-old bastard who had just killed a knight with a dagger, and was now personally appointed as the Regent's squire? What kind of fortune was this?
Alyn quickly recovered, and he bowed deeply again, uncontrollable excitement in his voice.
"Thank you for your favor, Regent! I swear by my life and the Seven that I will never betray the Regent!"
Aemond looked at him.
"Rise. Wash yourself and change into clean clothes. A silver-haired squire befitting my attendant."
Alyn stood and followed the servants away. His steps were somewhat unsteady, as if he still could not believe what had just happened.
Hal watched his back and whispered, "My lord, what is special about this boy?"
Aemond did not answer directly, only said, "You will know soon enough."
---
The rewards continued.
The last group to step forward was the surrendered Velaryon army. More than five hundred men, all grey-haired, heads bowed, not daring to look at anyone. This was the surrendered force Aemond had incorporated after capturing High Tide, led by five Velaryon knights known as the "Silent Five."
For the assault on Rook's Rest, Aemond had ordered them to take the vanguard, saying it would give them a chance to atone for their crimes. They had atoned—more than five hundred climbed the wall, fewer than three hundred survived.
The five Silent Velaryons stood at the front, covered in blood—both enemy and their own. They said nothing, simply standing in silence, waiting for Aemond's judgment.
Aemond looked at them and said slowly, "You have done well."
The five knights raised their heads; a complex feeling flickered in their eyes. Their feelings were mixed; they did not know whether it was right to join the Greens, but now that they had come this far, they had no way back...
"From this day forward, you are no longer surrendered troops," Aemond said. "You will become part of the Royal Army, like everyone else. Your pay, rations, and rewards will be the same."
Aemond looked at the surrendered soldiers, paused for a moment, and raised his voice slightly.
"The past is forgiven."
The surrendered soldiers behind them also knelt one by one; more than three hundred men shouted in unison, "We are willing to die for the Regent!"
The Silent Velaryons exchanged glances, then knelt in unison.
Now the Velaryon army had only three hundred men left—from thousands to this. If they were consumed like this, these branch families would be completely destroyed and devastated.
Aemond nodded and ordered the Velaryon army to withdraw.
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