Execute those who should be executed, imprison those who should be imprisoned.
Daeron turned calmly, waiting for Count Walder's attitude... It was noon.
Count Walder met with Daeron alone to inquire about the specific details of the tourney.
Daeron: "Do as you see fit; if you don't understand something, ask Rhaegar."
Spend Rhaegar's money to handle his own business.
He certainly had to give the other party a sense of participation.
Count Walder was uneasy: "You burned Lord Clinton to death. What if someone investigates?"
House Connington of Griffin's Roost had a long history and had always been a great house of Stormlands.
Lord Clinton himself was a close friend of Rhaegar, arriving under his orders.
Daeron would just pat his backside and leave.
How would House Rivers deal with it?
Daeron: "Clinton was burned to death by a young dragon while trying to tame it."
Lest the other party remain uneasy, he added: "If anyone investigates, tell them to come find me."
"But..." Count Walder started.
Daeron waved a hand: "Any more questions?"
It had been over a hundred and fifty years.
With the young dragons reborn, the nobles of the Seven Kingdoms had not yet adjusted their mindset.
Facing anyone who dared to provoke, one must respond strictly with fire and blood.
If killing one wasn't enough, then keep killing!
Let dragons and death rebuild the shattered authority of the Targaryen Family.
Count Walder was greatly shaken and said: "Perhaps you are right. The Targaryens haven't had a heroic leader in a long time."
The last one could be traced back to the "Young Dragon" Daeron I.
"Another Daeron."
Count Walder felt bitter in his heart... Daeron stayed for three days, enjoying the scenery of the Gods Eye.
Early this morning, Count Walder brought a piece of intelligence.
The alliance of the Four Great Houses: Eagle, Stag, Wolf, and Fish.
"Prince, an alliance of the Dukes of the Four Realms is a potential threat after all."
Walder's expression was solemn as he said: "They have no intent to rebel now, but once they make a move, it will be as swift as a gale blowing through the grass."
Daeron had heard of this.
Lord Arryn of the Vale had fostered Robert Baratheon and Ned Stark. The eldest son of Lord Stark of the North, "The Wild Wolf" Brandon, was betrothed to Catelyn, the eldest daughter of Tully family.
It didn't sound like much.
But an alliance of four houses was an act of overstepping in any era.
"Some of my father's words and deeds indeed have a pattern to follow."
Daeron discovered a blind spot.
Count Walder stated his stance: "Prince, the Dornish are unreliable. You need new allies."
"Who?"
Daeron raised an eyebrow.
Walder: "Lord Tywin has a daughter, and Lord Hoster has a daughter."
Cersei Lannister / Lysa Tully.
"Let's talk next time."
Daeron immediately backed down.
Count Walder grew anxious: "You might not know, but Lord Tywin's eldest son was previously at Riverrun to meet Miss Lysa of Tully family."
"I know."
Daeron wouldn't feel a sense of crisis because of this.
He believed in Jaime Lannister's character.
"You don't know."
Count Walder was desperately anxious and told the truth: "I detained Lord Tywin's eldest son at Harrenhal. Yesterday, Lord Hoster sent a letter saying he would send someone to pick him up."
"Hmm?"
Daeron was startled, looking at him in a new light.
Well played, Walder Rivers. You have such guts, even daring to detain Tywin's precious son.
Did Catelyn learn that from you?
Walder gave a sheepish smile: "It was for the Forest Witch. That lad is very stubborn; he refused to leave my place."
Daeron understood.
The other party used the Forest Witch to bait him, but Jaime took the bait instead.
As they were speaking, a Dragon Guard came to report.
A party of men was coming from Riverrun and would arrive at Harrenhal shortly.
"Who is leading the party?"
Count Walder asked hurriedly... The Hall of a Hundred Hearths.
Daeron met a legendary figure.
"Prince, Tully family sends its greetings."
Brynden Tully was meticulous, his etiquette very thorough.
"Blackfish" Brynden.
The younger brother of Lord Hoster Tully, famous for his role in the War of the Ninepenny Kings.
"Long time no see, Ser."
Daeron returned the smile.
After finishing his salute, Brynden turned to Count Walder and said stiffly: "Where is Jaime Lannister? He has been a guest here for some time."
Count Walder was not one to be trifled with either and said: "I have already sent someone to call him. Just wait."
For a moment, the atmosphere turned cold.
Brynden was used to it.
Wherever he appeared, the atmosphere always turned cold.
Who else could he be but the "Black Sheep Blackfish."
While waiting, Daeron sized up the few squires Brynden had brought.
One of them had black hair and a long face, with piercing grey eyes. He didn't look like a man of the Riverlands, but more like a Stark.
"Who is he?"
Daeron asked.
Brynden: "My niece Catelyn's fiancé."
Succinct and to the point.
Brandon Stark stepped forward, his voice booming: "I am Brandon Stark, son of the Lord of the North."
"I can tell."
Daeron observed him.
Brandon was tall and wore a black bearskin coat even in the heat.
Coupled with that long Stark face, one could tell at a glance he was a northern brute.
As he was sizing up Brandon, the other party was also sizing him up.
Brandon's grey eyes scanned him up and down, and he grinned: "I thought the Seven Kingdoms' famous 'Daeron the Daring' would be a sturdy man six feet tall."
His tone carried a hint of bitterness.
There were too many rumors about Daeron.
Winning a Trial by Combat against Tywin's brother Kevan Lannister, entering Dragonmont alone to slay a demonic dragon, bringing dragons back to the world using unknown methods... every achievement added luster to his resume.
Daeron: "You are very simple, just like the title 'Wild Wolf' suggests."
Brandon's face darkened.
A person's title was usually bestowed by others or earned through a feat, representing the public's consensus on that person's actions.
For example, "Barristan the Bold" and "Blackfish" Brynden were both known for their martial prowess, becoming famous during the War of the Ninepenny Kings.
Their titles held incredible weight.
While his so-called "Wild Wolf" was merely praise from the Northmen.
It didn't hold much weight.
Daeron saying he was as simple as his title was a roundabout way of calling him an idiot.
"You..."
Brandon was indignant.
Just as he took half a step forward, Brynden held him back, shoving his chest so that he stumbled.
Brynden then explained: "He's from the North; he lacks worldliness."
"No matter."
Daeron smiled.
He wasn't a petty person.
Standing to the side, Count Walder secretly broke into a cold sweat for Brandon.
Never mind being the son of a Duke; even a Count like himself could be kept in Harrenhal forever.
Compared to a Targaryen with a dragon, what are you acting so arrogant for!
At that moment, a blonde youth was led in by a servant.
"Ser Brynden?"
As soon as Jaime saw his idol in black scale armor, his originally sullen expression immediately cleared up, and he glanced at Count Walder.
"Lord Riverrun, has someone come to pick me up?"
Count Walder refused to take the blame and said: "I never forced you to stay."
Jaime was momentarily exasperated and said rudely: "Enough talk, give the Forest Witch back to me."
His manners had long since worn away along with his patience.
"You can't take her."
Count Walder spoke with great confidence, pointing at Daeron: "The Prince has arrived in person; your task is complete."