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Xandar, Essos
57 AC
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"We should prepare our wedding as soon as possible," Caspian spoke, leaning against the edge of the pool while extending his arm to take grapes neatly arranged in a large fruit basket.
Both were in the private pool of their quarters, a massive room combining Gothic architecture with Greek details. The ceilings were vaulted, featuring large stone arches and skylights that let in the sunlight, alongside windows with intricate tracery.
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Valka looked at him intently, wanting to know if she had heard correctly. "Why are you looking at me like that?" Caspian laughed, noticing Valka's strange gaze. "Because I don't know if it's the right time for it. Xandar was born barely eight days ago; people are still adapting to the city. I have witches who even arrive late to places because they don't know the whole city yet."
Caspian chuckled at that. If he hadn't been the one to build the city stone by stone, with the entire map etched into his mind, he undoubtedly would have gotten lost many times going from one place to another.
"But I'm being serious. I want to marry you as soon as possible. Besides, it would be seen as an appropriate political move, especially for these times. A royal wedding would be viewed as stability for the new reign, as it brings princes and princesses into the picture."
"Hahaha, me as a mother? Can you imagine it?" Valka laughed, but Caspian could see the longing in her gaze. "You would be an excellent mother, and a magnificent queen."
Valka remained thoughtful for a while, but then she smiled—a smile that made Caspian smile back. "Very well, let's get married." Caspian couldn't hide his excitement and pulled her close, kissing her passionately as Valka sat on his lap, their laughter and intimacy echoing through the room.
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Two days later, Caspian was riding toward the shipyards—enormous stone and wood facilities of one hectare each, imposing buildings designed to house the construction of four dromonds simultaneously. And there were thirty of them.
But Caspian wasn't here today to see shipyards, as he had already seen them—after all, he was the one who made them. Nor was he here to see ships, because the shipyard he was at, along with the next ten, were not set up to build ships, but carriages.
"My King, we have progressed exactly as you requested. So far, there are twenty-five of them, and another thirty-five are in the final phase of construction." Alonso, the leader of the carpenters and builders in charge of the labor, guided Caspian through the enormous shipyard, where six ready carriages could be seen.
The carriage was large, very large. "The carriage measures ten meters long, four meters wide, and three and a half meters high," Alonso began to explain the features of the carriage while Caspian observed intently.
"The rear wagon is divided into three parts. The first, connected to the driver's cabin, is the resting area; it has space for two bunks, a kitchen, and a small living area. The second zone is the warehouse, with space to hold twenty chests." Caspian nodded. One thing that had been proven was that the chests maintained the same storage capacity as they did in the game. That meant he could store up to 27 items without occupying more than a square meter. Not only that, it seemed food did not spoil over time.
"As for the last zone, it is the resting place for the Iron Golem." Yes, Caspian planned to offer Iron Golems to serve as protection for Xandarian merchants. While each carriage would have four crew members, and each had to be skilled with a sword, an Iron Golem as a decisive measure in case of roadside ambushes was not a bad idea at all.
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"Perfect. The witches already took care of creating the Iron Golems a few days ago. We only need the first sixty carriages to be finished, and they can depart for the rest of the Free Cities."
At this, Alonso appeared somewhat worried. "My King, the carriages are not light. They are covered with steel plating on their exterior walls, as well as the roof and floor. They weigh over four thousand kilos. Even with twenty horses, pulling a loaded carriage will be a monumental task."
Caspian shook his head. "Don't worry. These carriages won't be pulled by horses."
Alonso was confused. "Then by what, my King?"
"Ravagers."
"Oh," was all Alonso could say, unable to imagine that those beasts, hungry for human flesh, could be tamed. "But my King, wouldn't that be dangerous? I mean, they would undoubtedly be the perfect creatures for this task, but... they eat people."
Caspian laughed. He had shared that concern, but he knew that with the Loyalty enchantment book, the Ravagers could be tamed. As for their hunger for flesh? Their diet could be changed to beef or something similar. "Don't worry, I'll handle that."
"One more thing, my King. Although the Valyrian roads are still in good condition, they need to be widened so that traffic doesn't bottleneck." Caspian sighed. While he could order the construction of new roads, that would take years—something that could be done in days if he did it himself.
"I'll take care of that too, but we will only remodel the roads connecting the three cities. For the other Free Cities, we will continue using the Valyrian roads." Caspian replied. Similarly, the builders, along with the Librarians, were devising ways to build functional trains using Redstone. While there were no rapid advances yet, it was very possible that Xandar would have trains connecting its cities within a few months.
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Vaes Yeraan
One week later
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Rhaena's stay in Vaes Yeraan had been peaceful, and though she didn't want to admit it, far more free and serene than her life in Westeros, where everyone looked at her with pity, remorse, or even anger. She was blamed for things she had no control over, and for which the weak—who lacked the power to face Maegor—decided to blame one of his other victims.
But here, no one knew her. They treated her with respect but not with sycophancy, which didn't bother her. It allowed her to detach from a life lived under the shadow of people who dictated her existence at every turn.
"Knock, knock!" A rapping at the door of her room pulled her from her reverie, forcing her to stand up from her chair on the balcony of the massive room the Dothraki king's servants had given her by his order.
Rhaena didn't know what to think about Khal Caspian, the one everyone worshipped as if the Seven themselves had descended to earth. During her entire time in Vaes Yeraan, no one had ever shown disrespect for their King, or their Khal, as they called him. They respected him and followed him with a devotion that was almost maniacal, bordering on frightening at times, which gave her chills—even without having met him yet. When she arrived, he had already left for Volantis to take the city, given to him by the Red Temple itself—another subject that kept her awake, unable to understand how the Red Priests followed a Dothraki Khal.
"Yes?" she asked upon opening the door, seeing a man in a brown robe. "A letter has arrived for you, Lady Rhaena." She thanked him, though not before asking if he could please call for her daughter.
While waiting for Aerea to arrive, Rhaena finished reading the letter. For a moment, the silence in her chambers was so heavy it felt as if the air itself had turned to stone. Then, with a slow and deliberate movement, she tossed the parchment into her room's fireplace. The flames, fed by dry wood, devoured her brother's words in a blink.
"Mother?" Aerea entered her room moments later, finding her mother sitting on the balcony looking toward the grasslands where the giant dome housing Balerion and Dreamfyre could be seen. her daughter seemed taller every day, her skin bronzed by the eastern sun and her eyes filled with a spark she never had on Dragonstone.
"Your uncle has banished us," Rhaena said, her calm face contrasting with her rigid voice. "He has stripped us of our titles. Our rights. He says if we do not return within two moons to hand over Balerion and Dreamfyre, we will be taken as prisoners for treason."
Aerea did not flinch. She didn't even blink. A bitter smile, almost Valyrian in its cruelty, curled her lips.
"Prisoners?" Aerea looked at her mother, and something in her gaze made Rhaena feel uncomfortable. "Jaehaerys sits on an iron throne, but we are in the heart of an empire that is awakening. Does he think he can chain the riders of the greatest dragons in the world from across the sea?"
Rhaena stood up from her chair and walked toward her, taking her hands. They were firm. Her little girl, the one who fled in fear, was gone. In her place was a woman who spoke of power as if it were her birthright.
"I will not return, Mother. For the first time I am free, and I am at peace. I don't want to return to a prison of gold and cushions. So, if you want to go back, I will understand, but I will never set foot in Westeros again." Rhaena closed her eyes and sighed. She would have protested, shouted, and forced her daughter to return with her... but was that what she wanted? To return to a gloomy fortress where she was feared? To return to a place where she didn't feel comfortable, away from her daughter?
"I won't return to Westeros either. I've spent my life running from shadows, from husbands I didn't want, and from a family that only sees me as a piece on their board. Here... here things are different." Rhaena's response surprised Aerea. "But what about Rhaella? She is still in Oldtown."
"She grew up, Aerea. It's the life she chose to take, and she is happy with it. I cannot force her into something she doesn't want. I've already learned my lesson with you. You, on the other hand, are here, in the place you want to be, just like your sister, with company to your liking."
A slight, almost imperceptible blush touched Aerea's cheeks, understanding whom her mother was referring to. Rhaena sighed, letting go of her daughter's hands to stroke her face.
"Let's talk about that, Aerea. I am not blind. I have seen how you speak of him. I have seen how that 'strange' bond you mention is turning into something the septons would call sin and kings would call an alliance. Caspian already has a queen, and from what I know of her, that woman is... dangerous in a way I don't fully understand. But he is a conqueror. And conquerors need queens."
Aerea lowered her gaze for a second before meeting her mother's eyes again with determination. "He has proposed that I stay. Not as a guest, but as part of Xandar. As for Queen Valka, she herself sent me a letter expressing that she wishes to see me in the future the King is building here. And I... Mother, I don't want to be the wife of some lord in Westeros. I want to fly as a queen over the mountains he raised."
Rhaena nodded. The decision had been made even before the raven arrived.
"Then let Jaehaerys keep his twisted chair," Rhaena declared. "If he wants a war over dragons, he'll have to cross the sea to find it. But first, we must secure your place. If you are to marry him, Aerea, it won't be as a banished fugitive. You will marry as the heir to the fire that you are. If he is the herald of the gods, you shall be the flame that purifies his path."
Aerea nodded, a fierce determination shining in her eyes. Rhaena looked toward the horizon. In the distance, she could see the silhouette of Dreamfyre soaring through the sky. She felt a pang of relief. Finally, the chain had broken. Jaehaerys had done them a favor: by banishing them, he had given them absolute freedom to burn the old world and build a new one from its ashes.