The magical dragons rested quietly on the rocky islands, their scales like shimmering jade. They kept their eyes wide open, watching their companion and the young woman.
"What is the goal?" Rhaegar asked. Although Shireen Darry always loved to joke with him, the girl's capabilities and vision were undeniable.
Rhaegar did not doubt the accuracy of the Tyroshi information. Previously, Lysandro and Marajo, the Magistrate of Volantis, had also warned him about this unusual movement. However, their information was not as accurate as Tyrosh's; Marajo was far away, and Lysandro was low-ranking. The ones who understood Lys best were its enemies, the Tyroshi, as they were too close and their hatred ran too deep.
"The peace they are calling for will be brought to the Stepstones."
"Peace!" Rhaegar was practically amused. This war was started by Lysene fugitives and pirates.
Historically, the Third Daughter's annoying schemes against Westeros far outnumbered the times the Iron Throne attacked them. The Stepstones have always been a strategically vital location.
"The Lysene and Myrish people are always so cunning. The peace they speak of means you must withdraw from the Stepstones, or allow multilateral administration. The Iron Throne certainly cannot be allowed to control the entire sea area and levy taxes arbitrarily! This kind of peace is supported by fifty warships from the two city-states," Shireen said.
"Then they will likely be disappointed. The war for the Stepstones will end quickly. We are rested, and with three magical dragons, we won't necessarily fear them. If Lys makes a move, will you Tyroshi stand by idly? This concerns your father's authority and power, doesn't it? Tyrosh can dispatch at least twenty or thirty warships," Rhaegar said. The Tyroshi don't like fighting, but the Lysene are an exception. Dealing with the Two Daughters is much easier than dealing with the Third Daughter.
The Stepstones are currently a nexus of suspicion. Tyrosh and Lys hate each other, and Lys and Myr resent the Iron Throne for controlling the Narrow Sea.
"Even if the Tyroshi fleet is dispatched, the Two Daughters won't be afraid. They have also sent envoys to Braavos for coordination," Shireen explained carefully.
A fire burned in Rhaegar's heart. If the meddling Braavos joined in, starting a fight would indeed be difficult. What Braavos loved doing most was coordination and Glorious Isolation; they would not allow any single city-state or nation to dominate the others. When Volantis was waging wars everywhere back then, Braavos supported the Lysene with a hundred ships. Braavos later joined the Stepstones War as well, extorting a large sum of money from the Iron Throne.
"Speaking of which, this has something to do with you too. People always make strange associations. When they see my father taking me to events, they suspect he wants to groom me to become the Archoness. When they see you and your dragons—you have dragons, you have the blood of the Dragonlords, their aggressiveness, bravery, and even their cruelty and dominance. Your dragons grow larger year by year, reminding people of those mad Dragonlords. You even call your magical dragon 'Emperor.' Many of your ancestors were filled with the desire for conquest and war, and your system is the foul, antiquated aristocratic hereditary system, fundamentally incompatible with the Free Cities." Shireen's eyes sparkled. She was gentle as water, yet intelligent and perceptive.
Rhaegar had to admit that what the girl said had a basis: public sentiment. In terms of religious belief, ethnicity, ruling class, and political system, most Free Cities were fundamentally incompatible with Westeros. Except for Volantis, most city-states did not welcome Dragonlords.
"Now that the Seven Kingdoms are stable, Braavos will naturally feel doubt and vigilance, wondering where the young Dragonlord will unleash war next. The Lysene will lobby the Braavosi effectively, bringing money and sincerity. Braavos loves this kind of risk-free business of mediation and collecting fees," Shireen clarified the situation.
"It's a pity you weren't born a boy, otherwise I feel your father wouldn't worry about the succession issue." Rhaegar greatly admired Shireen. She was a young woman, yet her wisdom and shrewdness surpassed mediocre men, and she understood the bigger picture. For the Free Cities, power mostly relied on elections, charm, and bribery, not hereditary succession. This also meant their power was often fleeting, with decline and rise happening very rapidly.
"I would rather not accept that kind of compliment. Why must a woman depend on a man? If I love authority, I will fight for the crown myself. Men rely on swords, women can rely on smiles and looks." Shireen suddenly became serious, her beautiful face gaining a resolute strength. "War is no laughing matter for you and me, Rhaegar, you must be extremely careful. The soldiers of Lys and Myr aren't excellent, but their poisons and assassins are tricky. They might even consider high-priced killers: the Sorrowful Men, the Pyromancers, or even the Faceless Men. I wouldn't want a handsome prince to end up as a pile of white bones. Protect yourself, Rhaegar."
"The crown represents not just power, but also blood, fire, and battle—that is our destiny." Rhaegar did not directly answer the question. Since he was pursuing the crown, he needed to face the coldness and cruelty of power. The crown was like a rose, sweet yet thorny.
"But rest assured, with the Tyroshi Pearl worrying about me, I will certainly stay alive. After all, I still want to remember the smile of a beautiful girl like you." Rhaegar also made a joke. This person was like a rose; one glance brought longing. Rhaegar would not forget Shireen's gentle, deer-like eyes, and her long, blue-green curly hair draped lazily over her shoulders. Shireen's smile was bright and sweet, yet it also represented ambition.
"I believe your promise, Prince Rhaegar. A world without you would certainly lose a lot of light," Shireen said. "When Lys and Myr deploy their warships, we will simultaneously dispatch thirty warships, but unless the Lysene make the first move, we will not initiate combat!"
Rhaegar breathed a sigh of relief. As long as the Tyroshi were willing to commit, everything would be much easier.
When it was time to say goodbye, they wished each other well and parted. Shireen did not give Rhaegar a kiss, but she did give him a question.
"Will you marry me, Prince!" Shireen suddenly asked, her eyes filled with hope and longing.
"Most likely not, Princess Shireen," Rhaegar stated firmly. He did not want to deceive an honest girl. International marriages were complicated, especially in current Westeros, as King Viserys's marriage demonstrated.
"I understand. You will still choose the daughters of Westerosi Lords—a Baratheon, a Martell. Because the cost of marrying me outweighs the benefit, and marrying those girls can solidify your rule," Shireen said, looking slightly disappointed. "You are truly cold. You are like a beast of power, too rational. But because you are this way, I like you even more. We are essentially the same kind of person: young and ambitious."
Rhaegar did not reply. Shireen saw things clearly. There were many beautiful girls and many clever girls, but the combination of beautiful and clever was rare.
"I cannot make that promise to marry you. Under the crown, our love cannot be frivolous. But I will always remember the favor of your aid regarding the Stepstones. I am grateful to you, Shireen," Rhaegar said.
"Goodbye, Prince Rhaegar. Perhaps one day, I will no longer love you. Perhaps one day, I will conquer everyone and stand above ten thousand people. At that time, you will come begging me for the sake of your crown." Shireen did not answer Rhaegar's question. Instead, she left the rocky island, returned to her ship, and headed back to Tyrosh.
Rhaegar watched the rose leave, feeling a sense of melancholy loss. An empire and a beauty seem to be what binds a man for life.
Only after Rhaegar saw the Tyroshi ships sailing into the distance did he mount his magical dragon and leave the area, preparing for battle.
A few days later, the combined fleet of Lysene and Myrish forces indeed arrived, having first dispatched a messenger with a letter. The gist was that fifty warships had arrived, ready to negotiate the status of the Stepstones with the Iron Throne. Although called city-states, the Free Cities were more like city-nations, possessing vassal territories and substantial urban populations.
Not far from Bloodstone, the two great fleets—the Lys-Myr combined fleet and the Westerosi Iron Throne fleet—met and confronted each other on the Narrow Sea.
After careful consideration, Crown Prince Aerys, Lord Tywin, Ser Steffon, and Rhaegar—the group of four—decided to allow the Myrish and Lysene representatives to come ashore for talks on the beach of Bloodstone.
On the beach, beneath a banner of the black dragon on a red field, a simple negotiation table was set up. There were no gifts, drinks, or fruit, only stern and cold armored soldiers, representing the attitude of the Iron Throne.
"We represent the goodwill of the Governor of Myr and Lys, and we come bearing the hope of peace. The Stepstones have always been communal territory. Now that the pirates have been cleared out, their communal status can be restored," said the Lysene and Myrish envoys, their expressions arrogant. The Myrish envoy had olive skin, black hair, and black eyes, while the Lysene envoy had blue eyes, platinum blonde curly hair, and smooth, pale skin. The only thing they had in common was their slender build; they were not natural warriors and relied more on sellswords for fighting.
"The Stepstones were originally our territory, and we have expended troops and resources for so long. They will not be surrendered simply based on a light remark from two envoys," Lord Tywin stated deliberately.
Crown Prince Aerys outright cursed, demanding that the two pirate and whore city-states kneel. "It was our army, my son's dragon, and the lives of our soldiers that secured these islands. Why didn't you speak up when the pirates were demanding money? Because the pirates sold bed slaves to you; you were in league with them."
"Watch your language, Crown Prince. You are provoking and slandering us." The faces of the Lysene and Myrish men darkened considerably.
Suddenly, a dragon's roar sounded in the sky. Three dragons, with wingspans of about thirty-seven or thirty-eight feet, landed near the negotiation table. The magical dragons flapped their leathery wings, kicking up a large amount of dust and sand.
Rhaegar dismounted from Silver Emperor, wearing handsome black armor and carrying his shadow cleaver, and walked up to the negotiation table.
"Is Prince Rhaegar trying to intimidate us? Prince, don't forget that magical dragons are not invincible. Excessive aggression leads to danger. During the Battle of the Gullet back then, the heir to the Iron Throne and his dragon perished together!" The Lysene envoy looked displeased. Seeing the dragon, silver hair, and purple eyes, they knew this must be Rhaegar, the notorious Butcher of the Narrow Sea.
"Dragons are not all the same. It seems I could repay the grudge from the Battle of the Gullet today," Rhaegar said, drawing his shadow cleaver, the bright gleam of the blade chilling the heart.
"Prince Rhaegar, stop playing with fire and provoking us! If you refuse to negotiate, then you will be the ones who started the war!" the Lysene and Myrish envoys said in unison.
"I didn't mean that at all! But if battle were to start right now, your small number of warships wouldn't stand a chance, would they? Besides, back then it was the Third Daughter, but now one of the Daughters is standing with us," Rhaegar said coldly, pointing toward the sea. "Look there, the Tyroshi ships have arrived."
Thirty Tyroshi warships also appeared near Bloodstone, blocking the retreat channel for the Lys-Myr combined forces and serving as mutual support for the Westerosi fleet. Hatred lives longer than love. They would rather see the Stepstones occupied by pirates than fall into the hands of the Lysene.
"Prince, don't push us too far. We have contingencies," the Lysene envoy said, his eyelid twitching. Damn Tyroshi, they really did ally with the Iron Throne. The envoy was starting to get scared. They had no advantage in ship numbers or soldiers, and if the Iron Throne turned hostile, they would have no way to escape.
"Are you talking about the Braavosi? Their fleet is being 'escorted' by us, and it will take a while for them to arrive." Rhaegar suddenly laughed. Now it was his turn to extort them. "We have the advantage in warships and three dragons. We can easily destroy your fifty warships first, and then have a nice chat with the Sealord."
The surface of the sea would soon be crowded with the fleets of five nations and city-states: King's Landing of Westeros, Braavos, Myr, Tyrosh, and Lys.
War, perhaps, would erupt in the very next moment!