Dragon Nest City, Silver Blood Tower, small library.
Lingor puffed out his cheeks, watching Dragonzel slowly studying a book. At nine years old, he had grown into a handsome big boy. He inherited his father's pure silver hair and deep purple eyes, as well as his tall, slender build. At first glance, he was a spitting image of a miniature Dragonzel, but he also inherited his mother Diana's somewhat delicate appearance. To prevent anyone from mistaking him for a girl (though no one ever had), Lingor had specifically cut his hair short.
"Father, are you just going to let Queen Mother Baela act so recklessly?" Lingor sat beside his father. Although he respected these elders, Lingor would not hesitate to point out their absurd behavior, which earned him the reputation of being harsh and rigid at a young age. However, young Lingor himself had no ill feelings towards this evaluation; instead, he was rather proud of it. "It's comfortable for her to leave on a dragon without a word, but Aegon and the others still have to work hard to learn how to govern the Realm, and Viserys willingly sold his marital autonomy for profit."
Seeing Dragonzel still looking at the book, Lingor grew a little anxious: "Father."
"I'm listening, Lingor." Dragonzel placed the book beside him, sighing inwardly. This child was good in every aspect—his ability, his learning speed, even his martial arts were first-rate. Aside from not knowing magic, he was a carbon copy of himself, but he was too set in his ways. To be honest, this wasn't a bad thing. The Varezes family needed such an heir. He might not be praised by bards or as beloved as himself, but he would definitely be a true leader respected by all.
"Do you know what Baela is going to do?"
Lingor shook his head, then realized something, stood up, and lowered his head: "Sorry, Father, I made a mistake again. I shouldn't have immediately questioned Queen Mother Baela's actions based on her behavior. I should understand everything before making a judgment."
You see, he's already started to self-reflect.
Dragonzel casually pushed open the window next to his seat and looked at the setting sun: "Baela knows she isn't suited to be a Dowager in the traditional sense, Lingor. Court life is torture for her, and after seeing Jaehaerys's actions, ordinary men can no longer move her. She can't help Aegon rule the Realm, nor can she fulfill her duties as a royal family woman." Dragonzel suddenly stopped speaking.
"Lingor, if one day your sister or child encounters such a situation, what will you do?"
"I will protect her and let her live according to her own wishes," Lingor said without hesitation. "I have Star Song, so I'm not afraid of mortal threats. The family also has Dragon Nest City, Silver Crown City, Lace Town, and Summerhall. We have enough places to accommodate our family."
After saying this, the boy suddenly froze. He realized that, according to his own words, Baela had done nothing wrong, and this also didn't align with the education he had received.
In Westeros's traditions, noble women have only three natural duties: to marry for the family, to care for the household for their husband, and to fight the stranger on the birthing bed to bear offspring for their husband or their own family.
The boy was at a loss for words.
"Baela has a dragon," Dragonzel exclaimed. "I have to say, dragons are the source of our strength and our confidence. With a dragon, Baela had the idea of soaring freely across the vast world. Child, do you know what Baela wants to do?"
Lingor shook his head, still bewildered. He truly didn't know what Baela intended to do.
"She wants to fly to the unexplored parts of Essos and Sothoryos." Dragonzel suddenly smiled: "She's very naive. This world is vast, and there are too many places that even the Dragon Kings of Ancient Valyria, who mastered sorcery, dared not easily set foot in. But she is also very brave. If she truly succeeds and sends the discovered information back to Westeros, then she will achieve even greater feats than Corlys Velaryon."
Speaking of the Serpent, this great navigator who completed nine grand voyages indeed achieved remarkable feats. He thoroughly opened up the traditional Summer Sea route, proving that with sufficient supplies, Westeros ships could sail eastward all the way to the legendary end of the world: Asshai, the city of magic. Now, the Silver Fleet's merchant ships also follow this route, continuously transporting goods produced in the Borderland Principality and commodities from the East Continent.
"That's only if she sends the information back," Lingor mumbled, but thinking about what Baela was going to do, the boy suddenly found himself somewhat yearning for it.
No, Lingor, you must calm down. You are the one who will take over Father's duties in the future. You must remember the family's responsibility resting on your shoulders.
The boy tried hard to rein in his heart, nodding vigorously at his father. "I understand, Father, I will work even harder."
"Alright, alright." Dragonzel ruffled his son's hair. "Come with me, there are some things you need to know, child."
"Huh?"
Lingor continued to follow his father out of the small library, still looking bewildered.
Dragon Nest City was vast, and traversing different towers took a lot of time. To save time, Dragonzel had craftsmen install many elevators in the castle. Some narrower areas couldn't accommodate elevators, so baskets suspended by ropes were used to speed up movement.
Otherwise, just walking from the Silver Blood Tower to the Hidden Sword Tower would take the father and son an entire afternoon.
"The Hidden Sword Tower's cellar?" Lingor was a little confused as to why his father would bring him here, as this was where the Varezes family stored their spoils of war, collecting countless trophies captured by the Varezes family since his father Cleorius established the Silver Blood Army.
There were Dothraki braids and bells, and their plundered artifacts, as well as the banners of countless unlucky mercenary groups, and skulls inlaid with silver. Of course, more often there were the spoils and heads of those who failed in the Dorne conquest, and many things captured during the Dance of the Dragons. Mond Hightower's head was also here, though its flesh had been boiled away and it was inlaid with silver.
But the most striking was the enormous dragon skull.
Not one, but three.
The largest dragon skull was more than spacious enough to fit a horse inside, the slightly smaller dragon skull resembled a bird, and the smallest dragon skull was clearly very young. Lingor measured its size—hmm, slightly smaller than his own Star Song.
He wasn't afraid of these skulls or anything.
I have Star Song; do you defeated foes really want to taste dragonflame again? This was Lingor's thought when facing the skulls of these enemies.
But he was still startled by these three dragon skulls.
"Vhagar, Sunfyre." Dragonzel walked behind his son, casually glancing at the smallest skull. "Tessarion, hmm, Vermithor and I killed two of them."
He placed a hand on his son's shoulder.
"Lingor, do you know what I want to tell you?"
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