Daeron looked up and flicked his gaze toward his brother standing quietly behind him.
Jaehaerys was sixteen now. Old enough to marry.
If Diana Pojiali really was still untouched...
"Jaehaerys's marriage is becoming a problem," Daeron thought. "There aren't many suitable girls left in the Seven Kingdoms."
He ran through the options fast. Lynesse Hightower was out. Arianne Martell too young. No great house had the right age match.
He'd have to look among lesser houses. That didn't bother him. Big houses brought big ambition and bigger headaches. Small houses stayed loyal because they had less to lose.
Still, Diana Pojiali was better than most.
The Pojiali family might be obscure, but they had records in Volantis and Tyrosh. A proper Valyrian noble house. And they carried real dragon blood.
Rhaegar had searched half the east and still couldn't find a proper Valyrian girl. Diana was a cut above the usual half-bloods.
Daeron felt a spark of interest for his brother's sake.
He waved Jaehaerys closer and dropped his voice. "You've met Diana Pojiali. She's beautiful. Any interest in marrying her?"
Jaehaerys froze.
"No interest? Fine."
Daeron wasn't the type to force things. He let it go.
"I'll ask Viserys later."
Viserys wasn't picky. Pretty girl? Done. Silver-haired? Even better.
Jaehaerys opened his mouth, then shut it. He hadn't said no. But absorbing those aquamarines had dulled his interest in romance for now.
"Tyrion, you've got a sharp mind."
Daeron accepted the plan. "Bring the siblings back to King's Landing for trial. Strip William of his fake title and find him a noble match. As for Diana…"
"Bring her to King's Landing first. Let her serve as companion to Princess Daenerys. We'll find her a good young lord when the time is right."
The Pojiali siblings were his spoils of war.
House Targaryen was running thin on blood. Two young male heirs and no suitable women. Diana carried real dragon blood. Marrying her in would be a win.
"It's settled."
Tyrion grinned.
Next came dividing the work among the lords.
Who would marry William?
"This needs to happen fast," Daeron said. "The people of Tyrosh need to see we're serious."
Lord Rowan opened his mouth, thought of his daughter in a wheelchair, and stayed quiet.
Lucerys, Yohn Royce, and Kevan all looked at each other. They had sons but no daughters the right age.
Lord Steffon cleared his throat. "Your Grace, my eldest son has a daughter. She's nine. Name's Walda Frey. She's presentable enough."
Daeron turned. "How old is William?"
"Twenty-one, Your Grace," Tyrion answered.
"Twelve years apart. That's pushing it."
Daeron frowned. "Lord Steffon, doesn't House Frey have anyone closer in age?"
Old Walder Frey had dozens of children and grandchildren. Surely there were better options.
Steffon coughed awkwardly. "My half-sisters aren't much to look at, Your Grace. Marrying one to William might do more harm than good."
Daeron remembered. The Frey women were famously plain.
"Then your granddaughter it is."
Daeron's voice stayed calm. "We'll betroth William to Walda now. They marry when she turns thirteen. I'll make sure they have a generous dowry."
"Thank you, Your Grace. House Frey is honored."
Steffon looked pleased. William himself was worthless, but the connection to the crown was priceless.
With the siblings handled, they moved to the real issue: governing Tyrosh.
Daeron spoke first. "Tyrosh is now part of the Seven Kingdoms. I'm abolishing the titles of Archon and Prince of Tyrosh. From now on it will be ruled by a Lord Governor—"
He was replacing the old system one step at a time.
Ruling Tyrosh would be a long, ugly road.
King's Landing.
Tywin received two pieces of news that morning.
One: Tyrosh had fallen. Daeron had returned on dragonback ahead of the fleet.
Two: Shaena was pregnant.
"The queen is with child? When did this happen?"
Tywin rarely lost his composure, but this hit him hard.
Five years. Five years with no heir from the queen.
He had just brought Cersei back, hoping she could produce one for the king. And now this?
For the first time, Tywin felt the gods were laughing at him.
"The queen's pregnancy ends any chance of restoring the old custom of multiple wives on the grounds that the king has no heir."
Tywin took a deep breath and forced his emotions down.
What now?
Was he supposed to push Cersei on the boy with no good excuse?
"The Small Council would never approve it anyway."
Tywin knew power had limits. He couldn't force this.
He turned to the first message, his expression darkening.
"Conquering a Free City is easy. Ruling it? That will take ten times the effort."
Tyrosh had three big problems: the local nobles and merchants, the hatred from the common people, and the massive slave population that would now be freed.
The first two could be crushed with force. The slaves were the real nightmare.
Once Tyrosh became part of Westeros, slavery was over. But freeing that many slaves meant thousands of people with no homes, no food, no work. The king who freed them would be blamed when they starved.
"No one with real governing experience is going to fix this mess easily."
Tywin knew he could do it. But how many people in the Seven Kingdoms could?
He had essentially ruled for Aerys for over a decade.
Daeron returned to King's Landing and went straight to the queen's chambers.
Shaena sat on the couch, holding a small green blanket embroidered with dragon eggs. One of her projects.
"You're back," she said with a soft smile.
Daeron moved carefully. "How are you feeling?"
Shaena held up a yellow daffodil. "Look what I found near the farm. Silver-star quality."
"Found it yourself?"
Daeron was surprised. Silver-star forage was rare.
Shaena nodded happily. "Just like the ones you pick."
Little Daenerys sat squeezed into the corner of the couch, watching them with big violet eyes, clearly wanting to join but too shy to interrupt.
"She's been keeping me company," Shaena said fondly.
Daeron looked at his little sister. She looked like she wanted to disappear.
"She's still the same awkward girl from before she hatched a dragon," he thought.
"Maybe riding a dragon will fix that."
Dragons changed people. Many Targaryens had grown stronger or more confident after bonding with one.
Daeron stayed a while, resting his hand on Shaena's flat stomach, holding her hand.
He wanted to leave a chest with special crops for her, but she couldn't use the shipping box. He'd have to bring them himself.
"Take care of yourself."
Shaena smiled, calm and sure. "I feel like I'm going to have a healthy baby."
Daeron felt a wave of relief.
She wore the gifts he'd given her: a small glowing ring on her left hand, the Ring of Yoba on her right, crystal shoes on her feet, and a lucky bow in her hair.
The Ring of Yoba would protect her if she got hurt. The crystal shoes boosted defense and immunity. The glowing ring was just because she liked it. The lucky bow brought good fortune.
She looked beautiful. Safe.
Daeron left for the Small Council chamber.
Tywin had already called the meeting. They were waiting for the king.
The main topics: governing Tyrosh and holding House Martell accountable for supporting Rhaegar.
"Your Grace, this requires your decision," Tywin said.
Sunspear.
Prince Doran stared at the two messages in his hands, silent for a long time.
One from Oberyn: Rhaegar was negotiating with the Lysene archons. The fall of Tyrosh had pushed things forward.
The other from Planky Town: rumors were spreading across half of Dorne that House Martell had chosen the wrong side by supporting Rhaegar. Lords were questioning his leadership.
And just days ago, an envoy from the Iron Throne had demanded he stop all aid to Rhaegar immediately.
"How convenient that all of this is happening at once."
Doran's face showed exhaustion. A cold sweat broke out on his forehead as another wave of gout pain hit. He gripped his thigh hard.
"Was supporting Rhaegar the right choice?"
The Iron Throne wanted answers. If he stayed silent, they would see it as defiance.
The more he thought, the more he feared the crown's power.
"Areo," he called.
His captain entered. "My prince, the Iron Throne's envoy is here. Princess Arianne is with him."
Doran forced himself to speak through the pain. "Send them in."
Willas Tyrell and Arianne Martell entered.
Arianne was full-figured in a green one-shoulder dress, looking older than her years. Willas bowed politely.
"Prince, I bring news from King's Landing," Willas said.
He told Doran about Daeron's return and the council's decision.
Doran's smile froze. He felt like the Targaryen brothers had set him up perfectly.
Planky Town.
A royal ship sailed out of the Greenblood and into the Summer Sea.
Arianne stood on deck, holding the hands of two little girls.
Rhaenys Targaryen, eight or nine, with dark hair and olive skin.
Visenya Targaryen, six or seven, with silver-gold hair and violet eyes.
Daeron was being practical. He wasn't going to punish Dorne harshly while Tyrosh was still being sorted. But there was one demand he wouldn't budge on.
Rhaegar's daughters were to be sent to King's Landing. They would not stay in Sunspear.
Young Aegon was left behind. Daeron had called him "dirty blood" and refused him.
"Father, you're too weak," Arianne said as she watched the coast fade. "House Martell gave everything for Rhaegar and got nothing in return."
She was escorting the two princesses as their companion. She wanted to see what the so-called Dragon King was really like.
Was Daeron the Third truly as powerful as the stories claimed?