27th Day of Autumn, Sunny, Saturday, 10:30 AM.
King's Landing.
Daeron stayed in the council chamber, looking out at the Dragonpit being built bit by bit.
In his blueprints, the Dragonpit was a massive domed building with arched exits reserved at the front and back, discarding the original bronze gates.
The dome had an opening, with key positions left unsealed.
Dragons could fly out from the top at any time.
"Prince, building the Dragonpit is an enormous expense."
Staunton finished his chattering and turned to grab Daeron.
Daeron was speechless and deflected, "My Lord, you should discuss this with the other ministers; I am only here to observe."
As the Commander of the City Watch, he was summoned and qualified to participate in the Small Council.
But he was only observing on behalf of his father.
It was at the request of his teacher, Tywin, and the forceful dragging of several Hand of the Kings.
Staunton was very stubborn and said, "Building the Dragonpit was your proposal; you should be involved."
Daeron didn't want to beat an old man and reluctantly took a seat.
Tywin participated in the meeting, looked at his disobedient student, and asked out of the blue, "I heard your recruitment for the Dragon Guards isn't going very smoothly?"
Daeron was startled and honestly replied, "It's alright, just a lack of manpower."
It had been nearly half a month since the trip to the Tourney at Harrenhal.
The number of Dragon Guards had reached one hundred and seventy-eight.
To this end, the Dragon seeds and Valyrias on Driftmark had been thoroughly screened, and some were even plucked from the noble sons of the Crownlands.
Dragonstone hadn't been touched yet.
There was a certain base of Dragon seeds on Dragonstone, but the atmosphere on the island was poor, and the loyalty of the Dragon seeds was concerning.
Plus, it was Rhaegar's fief, and there was nothing left to take.
"Very well."
Tywin commented, revealing his intention: "My brother Gerion Lannister is about to set sail for the other side of the Narrow Sea."
"Young people are restless and always want to carve out a world for themselves."
"When he reaches Lys or Volantis, he can recruit a group of Valyrias for you."
Daeron: "Thank you."
The sudden show of goodwill made him a bit uncomfortable.
Tywin returned to his serious demeanor and spoke of official business: "The Dragonpit is already a major expense, and with the upcoming development of the Prince's Domain, the treasury's income cannot meet its expenditures."
The ministers all nodded in agreement.
Seeing that no one had any objections, Tywin nodded directly: "Lord Qarlton, what are your thoughts?"
"My Lord, it might be better to appropriately raise some port taxes."
Qarlton said hesitantly.
As the master of coin, collecting taxes was an instinctive reaction.
Tywin pondered for a moment and nodded: "Lannisport will support the tax hike, but how will you convince the other lords?"
"This..."
Qarlton was momentarily at a loss for words.
Westeros was relatively backward, and the number of ports could be counted on one hand.
And the lords behind these ports were not people he could afford to offend.
Tywin glanced at him and said calmly, "Start with the Crownlands; those small families won't dare to disobey."
Daeron watched quietly.
This wasn't a good idea; the Crownlands was the Targaryen power base, and those small families were very loyal.
Raising taxes rashly would likely damage their reputation.
Someone came to the rescue.
Varys sat in a heap and said, "This morning's news: Lord Leyton of Oldtown has sent his eldest son, Ser Baelor, to have an audience with the Iron Throne; he is on his way now."
As he spoke, he looked at Daeron with an inscrutable expression.
Daeron remained unfazed and said, "My Lord, is there something on my face?"
"You joke."
Varys didn't dare offend him and gave his advice: "Ser Baelor is famously easy to talk to. If we communicate well with him, Lord Leyton should appropriately raise some taxes."
"It's a good idea."
Tywin nodded slightly.
Qarlton and Lucerys also stated they would persuade Gulltown and Crab Island to increase their tax payments for this year.
As for the other ports, there was really nothing to be done... the meeting adjourned.
Daeron was about to leave when he was approached by two groups of people.
One group was from Maidenpool; it was Lord Mutton coming to pick up his younger brother Myles.
Daeron decided to meet them a bit later.
The other group was from The Wall in the north, the black-clad Nights Watch.
A Nights Watch sergeant raised his hand in salute and said in a deep voice, "Prince, thank you for your support of the Nights Watch. The Commander sent us to take away the eight hundred and ninety criminals you arrested."
"Let's talk as we walk."
Seeing the Nights Watch for the first time, Daeron instructed Ser Jon: "Call Davos here; he has dealt with the Nights Watch before."
...12:10 PM.
The conversation ended.
Daeron saw off the Nights Watchmen who were going to pick up the men, his heart filled with mixed emotions.
He had asked about the state of the Nights Watch, but it wasn't ideal.
Since his grandfather Jaehaerys II, the Iron Throne's support for the Nights Watch had been minimal.
Today, the Nights Watch relied almost entirely on funding from Winterfell. Their numbers were less than two thousand, and several Nights Watch fortresses had been closed.
"No organization lacks vermin."
Seeing the Prince's distraction, Davos offered words of comfort.
He had once conducted smuggling business with the Nights Watch at Eastwatch-by-the-Sea and had seen with his own eyes the Nights Watch reselling supplies to the Wildlings beyond The Wall.
This had shocked him greatly.
However, it didn't stop him from continuing to smuggle, and he even discovered a type of special crops.
It was also this special crop that led him to join Daeron's service by chance.
Daeron shook his head: "Vermin are a small matter; I'm only worried that when winter comes, the Nights Watch won't be able to hold the front line."
In the show, the Nights Watch were brave and honorable, yet scoundrels still mingled among them, tossing the group into turmoil.
The current Commander of the Nights Watch wasn't "Old Bear" Jeor Mormont yet, and whether there would be a Jon Snow in the future was another matter.
If the Others rose again, things would be very bad.
Davos didn't understand, but he still gave a suggestion: "If you are worried about the plight of the Nights Watch, why not support them with some supplies?"
"That's all we can do."
Daeron accepted.
The King's Landing purge plan had given the Nights Watch a major boost.
Sending more supplies would allow them to grow strong again.
Daeron: "In the name of the Iron Throne."
He inquired about his great-granduncle Maester Aemon and learned that he was doing quite well.
He was healthy, eating and sleeping well.
He spent every day in the library. If the Nights Watch at Castle Black had needs, he would provide answers or medical treatment.
"The candidate for Grand Maester from The Citadel hasn't been decided yet."
Daeron pondered for a while and thought to himself, "After the Tourney at Harrenhal, I'll find an opportunity to go to The Wall."
By then, the young dragons should have grown up.
Even if the Three-Eyed Crow had means, they wouldn't be used on him... Tower of the Hand.
Bang!
Tywin was in a towering rage, throwing the wine cup from his hand: "You absolute fool! I told you to go to Riverrun to deliver a letter, and you come back empty-handed!?"
Jaime dodged the cup, his expression a bit fearful.
Tywin roared, "Lord Hoster wrote to me saying his daughter is crying in her room, all because you left without saying goodbye!"
As early as half a month ago.
When his eldest son went to King's Landing without permission, he sensed something was wrong.
Today, the raven from Riverrun arrived, and his eldest son's little scheme could no longer be hidden.
"Father, listen to me."
Jaime cried out in protest: "That Tully girl didn't like me at all, just as I didn't like her."
Tywin questioned, "Then why was she crying?"
Jaime was puzzled: "Who doesn't cry? The first thing a baby does when it's born is cry."
Tywin's vision went dark, and he nearly fainted.
How did he father such a stupid son!!