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Daeron skipped the Smoking Sea and flew straight to Tyrosh instead.
Back in King's Landing, the trial of William and Diana Pojiali was over. The people of the Seven Kingdoms were more convinced than ever that House Targaryen ruled with iron authority.
William was shipped off to the Twins so old Walder Frey could "educate" him.
Diana stayed in King's Landing. She'd wait until Viserys finally grew a spine, tamed a dragon, and was ready to meet her.
Daeron ignored the small stuff and returned to Tyrosh.
Round trip on dragonback took three days.
"Your Grace, all eighteen governors of Tyrosh have been arrested and locked in the dungeons. Shall we drag them up for questioning?"
Tyrion was buzzing, eager to prove himself.
Nobody would've believed the king would put him on Jaehaerys's dragon for three straight days. Cold wind, two castles, but he finally got to ride a dragon like the big boys.
Now he'd hesitate before giving his life for the young king. Maybe enjoy a few more years first.
"No rush," Daeron said. "Tyrosh is a mess. We'll wait for Lord Lucerys to get back."
Tyrion muttered, "Lord Stannis and Davos have the city guard locked down. Lord Kevan and the others are here too. Even if there are a few small problems, they're nothing to worry about."
"Small problems?"
Daeron lowered his voice. "If you really think they're small, take a walk through the streets. I'm sure Lord Tywin would love to see what happens."
Tyrosh was in a strange state.
The Archon was dead. The governors were in chains. The top was completely leaderless.
Nobles, rich merchants, and slave owners were hiding in the shadows, pulling strings.
The slaves were narrow-minded and easy to stir up. They quietly hated the Iron Throne and anyone from Westeros.
The city was frozen in that weird post-conquest limbo.
One spark and it could explode.
"Uh… maybe I'll pass on that walk."
Tyrion grinned awkwardly.
Daeron respected the dwarf's age but knew his experience was limited. He needed more real-world time before getting real responsibility.
He asked, "Have any of the city's nobles spoken up for the governors? Offered to pay ransom?"
"Yes, but only their families."
Tyrion remembered clearly.
"Interesting," Daeron smiled.
"What's interesting about it?"
Tyrion didn't get it.
Daeron walked out the door and said over his shoulder, "I'm heading to the Stepstones to scout good spots for a new town."
"Lord Steffon is already there measuring every inch of Tyrosh's land."
"When he gets back, we'll discuss rewards and how to run the city."
Tyrion panicked. "Your Grace, you're not taking me?"
Daeron kept walking and left the dwarf behind.
Tyrion reached out, then dropped his hand, looking disappointed.
Another dragon ride ruined.
The Stepstones.
Compared to half a month ago, the scattered islands looked alive again. Tropical bushes were growing. The waters were full of fish. Everything felt fresh.
"Melisandre's magic really is something," Daeron said as he walked across Bloodstone's rocky ground.
He could feel the hard, sandy soil starting to soften. It was becoming farmable.
That was huge. It meant Bloodstone could grow enough food to support a small town.
He found Melisandre's hut, took out the revived dragon egg, and checked Grey Gallows to see if its soil was softening too.
He stored the egg safely in his inventory.
The egg was beautiful—deep green with bronze flecks that shifted as it turned.
"Looks like the family's getting another dragon."
Daeron felt happy but also impatient.
He wished his parents had given him more brothers and sisters. More dragonriders meant more dragons could be tamed.
Dragonriders were incredibly powerful.
He also hoped Shaena would give birth to a healthy boy.
His child could be a dragonrider too.
"Brother, I found what you asked about."
Jaehaerys landed on his dragon.
Daeron dropped the smile. "You found the gem veins on the Stepstones?"
"They're deep under Bloodstone and Grey Gallows."
Jaehaerys had questioned the three pirate women and the miners. He knew the exact locations.
He frowned. "Brother, the pirates said the veins are almost tapped out. After years of over-mining by everyone, production is way down. Maybe not as profitable as we hoped."
"How much less?"
Jaehaerys held up one finger. "Before, a hundred miners could pull a hundred gems a month. Now? Even working nonstop, they're lucky to get thirty."
Two-thirds less.
"Were the Summer Islanders idiots?"
Even Daeron's good temper cracked. He wanted to curse them out for killing the goose that laid the golden eggs.
Jaehaerys scratched his head. He wanted to say it wasn't just them.
Summer Sea pirates, slavers, smugglers, Volantis, Slaver's Bay… even Rhaegar had mined hard when he held the islands. Nobody cared about long-term damage.
"Whatever. Poor people act poor."
Daeron waved it off.
These idiots had never seen real wealth.
He had two farms. Dragon-Tongue Farm gave livestock and crops. Ginger Island grew ancient fruit and made wine. He had more special crops than he knew what to do with.
Special gems? He could make copies with his machines if he wanted.
But iridium and batteries were still limited, so he didn't mass-produce.
He'd already armed eight hundred Dragon-Tongue Knights with special crops and gems.
The special crops weren't giving him much power anymore. He was stuck at High Knight. Maybe it was time to explore sorcery and fire magic.
Magic would let him use the binding spell and dragon horn properly when he found them.
"Brother, when are we going back to Tyrosh?"
Jaehaerys was worried about the situation there.
Daeron said, "Not yet. We'll wait a little longer."
Tyrosh.
Tyrion walked the streets with Sandor and four Lannister soldiers.
He looked around, noting the layout and watching how the locals and slaves really felt.
The results were bad.
"Three days and the king still isn't back?"
Tyrion was nervous. Tyrosh felt like a powder keg.
He could feel the raw hatred from the Tyroshi toward them.
It was open and ugly.
Only Lord Kevan, Stannis, and the others keeping the peace had stopped a full riot so far.
"But things are still bad, aren't they?"
Tyrion looked back at the Hound.
Sandor spat. "Kid, if someone marched into Casterly Rock and tried to shove something up your ass, you wouldn't be happy either."
"Alright, you've made your point. No need to be so graphic next time."
Tyrion's face darkened.
It was true.
Tyrosh hated the invaders.
Especially now that the young king had shown up for five minutes and then vanished again with his dragon.
A rumor had started spreading through the city.
The Dragon King of the Iron Throne was going to abolish slavery, ship the extra slaves off to the Stepstones and the Disputed Lands to mine and farm, and take the city for himself.
Coincidentally, Lord Kevan and the others had been discussing exactly that—abolishing slavery and rewarding loyal lords with land in the Disputed Lands.
Abolishing slavery was the right thing in Westeros. No debate.
And the king's history suggested he'd hand out land in the Disputed Lands to his supporters.
The two ideas matched the rumor perfectly.
At the same time, different voices rose in the city.
Some slaves liked the idea of freedom. No more chains, no more being owned.
Others feared that without masters, they'd have nowhere to live and would starve.
Nobles and slaves alike were restless. Fear was spreading.
"Something's wrong, Sandor."
Tyrion's mind worked fast. Someone was deliberately spreading lies to stir up trouble.
He said urgently, "Sandor, we need to go back. It's not safe here."
If he was right, the whole city was one big bomb waiting for a spark.
Sandor frowned. "Dangerous? From them?"
He looked at the skinny, chained slaves holding shovels and rocks. They looked like they'd break in a stiff wind.
Tyrion didn't have time to explain. "Just move."
They had wandered into the old slave market without realizing it. The streets were packed with slaves and narrow alleys. They were lost.
That's when the slaves started looking at them with real hatred. Some men stood up, gripping shovels, pitchforks, even stones.
Women pulled their children close and hid.
Tyrion's face went stiff. "Gods, I really do have bad luck."
"Shut up."
Sandor drew his sword.
A masked figure appeared out of nowhere and tackled one of the Lannister soldiers.
"Ahhh!"
The man screamed as a dagger buried itself in his side. Blood poured out.
"Fuck!"
Sandor swung his sword at the masked man.
The attacker yanked the blade free, ducked into the crowd of slaves, and vanished down an alley.
Sandor's face turned red. "Coward! Come back here and I'll cut you into eight pieces!"
He was still cursing when things got worse.
Tyrion looked around and felt his stomach drop.
The slaves were closing in, surrounding them with whatever weapons they could grab.
In the shadows, more masked figures were moving.
Sandor's eyes widened. "Shit. Going anywhere with you is a curse."
"I brought you and four soldiers. Does that make you feel better?"
Tyrion remembered the king's warning and never left without protection.
"Fuck!"
Sandor growled.
Similar attacks were happening all over Tyrosh.
Lord Kevan's patrol found soldiers who'd been stabbed while visiting brothels. Their naked bodies were dumped in the street.
"Bronze" Yohn was attacked inside the Archon's palace. He barely survived thanks to his skill and "Lady Forlorn."
Davos, Stannis, even Lord Dayne (still serving his sentence) were targeted.
Only Dayne got seriously hurt—a knife in the kidney. Davos killed his attacker with a crystal dagger.
Being attacked wasn't surprising. Daeron had warned them before he left.
In moments like this, the weak got embarrassed.
When Ser Arthur arrived to save his brother, Stannis led the Dragon-Tongue Knights to crush several riots and rescued the battered Tyrion and his group.
"Thank you, my lord."
Tyrion had a huge lump on his forehead and was wincing, but he remembered his manners.
Stannis said coldly, "I serve the king. This has nothing to do with you, Lannister."
By midnight, the worst of the riots had been put down. The city was quiet again, but the tension was thick.
Lord Kevan, hearing his nephew had almost died at the hands of slaves, immediately wrote to Dragonstone begging the king to return.
"My lords, you've all heard the rumors. Someone is against abolishing slavery and is stirring the slaves into revolt."
Lord Kevan was furious.
"Bronze" Yohn added grimly, "Lord Steffon sent word. He was attacked in the Disputed Lands too. He's wounded but alive."
"This proves the slaves don't care who's good or bad. They just hate us and will do anything the hidden hands tell them."
If this kept up, the whole plan to free the slaves might have to be delayed.
Daeron had expected this all along.