Two days later.
Brynden, leading two horses, returned to Riverrun, travel-worn and weary.
Without a moment to catch his breath, he searched the entire castle for his brother, Hoster Tully.
Bang!
Without even knocking, he barged straight into the lord's study.
Hoster was startled and annoyed, saying, "Brynden, barging into my study like this—where are your noble manners?"
Brynden, his face weathered by the elements, spoke hoarsely, "Hoster, save your breath. You missed the Tourney at Harrenhal, you missed the dawn of a golden age."
Seven hells!
Who knew how much hardship he endured, riding alone from Harrenhal back to Riverrun.
But the golden age has arrived.
Tully family cannot afford to hesitate for a moment, or the 'Blackfish' will be the sinner.
"What?"
Hoster looked utterly confused.
Brynden disliked beating around the bush and laid out everything that happened at the Tourney at Harrenhal in meticulous detail.
Then, he said, "Rhaegar Targaryen has fallen. Now is the era of that Dragon Prince."
Hoster's expression turned grave as he analyzed the chaotic omens his brother described.
The universally beloved Crown Prince Rhaegar / the Dragon Prince Daeron who soars on dragonback.
And the False Spring, the collapse of the four families' plan to support Rhaegar.
"It's chaos."
Hoster felt dizzy, muttering to himself, "Everything is in chaos."
How could Rhaegar suddenly act so foolishly?
Brynden stated bluntly, "The events at the Tourney at Harrenhal are spreading like wildfire. On my way back, I heard people calling Daeron Targaryen the 'Young Dragon Lord' more than once, and referring to him and his faction as the 'Black Party' to distinguish them from Crown Prince Rhaegar."
What is a 'Young Dragon Lord'?
No one knows.
But the last one called the 'The Young Dragon' was none other than Daeron I of House Targaryen.
What is the 'Black Party'?
In House Targaryen's famous civil war, the 'Dance of the Dragons,' the Black and Green factions slaughtered each other, fighting over illusory power.
Daeron Targaryen has already risen.
And his momentum is unstoppable.
"A mere boy."
Hoster's mind was in turmoil, unable to believe it. "They call a mere boy the 'Young Dragon Lord' and revere him as the head of the Black Party?"
Has the world gone mad?
Since when can a 12-year-old half-grown youth become a force capable of shaking Crown Prince Rhaegar?
His mind was still stuck in the past.
Brynden had to open his eyes, saying gravely, "Have you ever seen a dragon?"
"That boy, on the first day of the tourney, rode that fierce-tempered Red Dragon over the Gods Eye. Everyone saw it, everyone knows he's extraordinary."
His vision was sharp; he saw the hidden currents beneath this tourney.
Rhaegar funded House Haran, and Daeron was happy to see it succeed.
Through the Tourney at Harrenhal, he spread the fact of his dragon-riding and the dragon's might across the Seven Kingdoms.
Rallying his vassals and convening a Great Council was Rhaegar's best chance to turn defeat into victory.
But he missed it!
For a woman, he foolishly missed his opportunity.
"Then why did you rush back so quickly?"
Hoster was taken aback, thinking that with Daeron so impressive, he should have tried to win Brynden over.
The name 'Blackfish' Brynden Tully is also a legend of this age.
Brynden sighed in exasperation, explaining, "If I hadn't ridden day and night, how would you see the situation clearly?"
Hoster rubbed his bald head and asked, "Then what do you think our next move should be?"
He was hesitant, torn between the two princes.
Brynden had already thought this through on the road.
"Break off Catelyn and Brandon's betrothal. Stop colluding with those three families."
"Send Catelyn and Lysa to King's Landing. Regardless of whether they care or look down on us, firmly show Tully family's stance."
Hoster was shocked and objected, "Wouldn't that be destroying our own defenses?"
Brynden knew his place and reminded him, "Don't forget how Tully family came to sit as Lord Paramount of the Trident."
Without Aegon the Conqueror, without House Targaryen.
Tully family, like House Tyrell, would still be a vassal family struggling to gain prominence.
A new era is coming. Tully family must choose sides correctly and show its stance to the Iron Throne.
"No, I refuse to break the betrothal."
Hoster firmly disagreed, opting for a compromise. "Catelyn's wedding is approaching. How about we send Lysa to King's Landing, to be given to Daeron Targaryen?"
The survival tactics of nobility cannot rely on a single path.
Having both advance and retreat options is the best strategy.
"What do you call it, pulling strings with three families on one hand, and currying favor with the Iron Throne on the other?"
Brynden didn't say the word 'chameleon.' He changed his suggestion: "If you can't bear to part with your daughters, then don't send either. Publicly declare support for Daeron's name; that can also show our stance."
After all this talk, it still came back to breaking the betrothal.
Hoster was very reluctant and sternly refused, "Brynden, I disagree."
Brynden was taken aback, his gaze toward his brother filled with scrutiny.
He originally thought the difference between him and his brother was that one was slow and the other impatient, one conservative and the other radical—hence the conflict.
Now it seemed Hoster wasn't just slow and conservative; he was also stubborn and short-sighted.
Out of responsibility to the family, Brynden made a final plea: "The new era is like a rushing current. If Tully family doesn't ride the wave, it will be dashed into the mud by the breakers."
"When that happens, how will you lead the family out of it?"
Hoster was also angered. Suppressing his temper, he said gravely, "No one can look down on Tully family. I will follow your advice and send Lysa to King's Landing."
"But you must learn respect—respect for me as your liege lord and your elder brother."
"You have no other choice. Curb your restless heart and don't say 'no' to me again."
"No!"
Brynden's face was expressionless as he uttered the word.
Hoster was furious.
However, Brynden took a step back, unbuckled the belt bearing the trout sigil, and threw it onto the desk with a thud. His tone was defiant: "I am Brynden, the 'Blackfish' Brynden Tully."
"I will always have the right to say 'no.'"
He was deeply disappointed, seeing through his brother's foolishness and the family's stubborn refusal to progress.
Brynden decided to leave. He said, "Hoster, I cannot stand by and watch you lead the family to ruin. You guard Riverrun. I will walk my own path."
"Call it not putting all your eggs in one basket, or diversifying investments—whatever you like."
"But I will not sit idly by and wait for death."
With that, he turned and left.
Hoster shot to his feet, demanding, "Are you leaving the family again, taking that ridiculous black fish sigil of yours to wander the world!?"
"Wander?"
Brynden glanced back, disappointment on his face. "At my age, where can I wander? I'm merely paving a longer road for the family."
The brothers parted on bad terms.
——
Ten days later.
Spring, Day 24, Wednesday, Clear Weather, 6:30.
Early in the morning, Daeron woke up at the farm, harvested the newly matured Cauliflower, and put it all into the shipping bin.
With 5 days left until the end of spring, he purchased 224 Parsnip seeds.
Parsnips take 4 days to mature and can be harvested before spring ends.
Limited by the special terrain of the grassland farm, the farmland in front of the cabin could only fit 7 by 4 plots, accommodating a total of 28 quality sprinklers.
Each quality sprinkler can irrigate 8 crops within a 3×3 area.
10:00 AM, Daeron left the farm.
"Prince, you're out."
Davos, who had been waiting at the farm entrance, immediately came forward.
The two of them set off together toward the Hall of Abundance on the western side of the Bluegrass Hills.
On the way, Davos said, "Prince, as you requested, ten key members have been selected from the Dragon Guards and are waiting for you at the Hall of Abundance."
Daeron nodded slightly.
After the Tourney at Harrenhal, many things had changed.
His prestige had risen dramatically, spreading throughout the Seven Kingdoms.
But there was one fatal flaw.
He was not the long-famous Rhaegar, who had ample time to get to know the nobility of the Seven Kingdoms and build connections and friendships.
His sphere of influence was limited to the Crownlands and the Riverlands (House Blackwood, House Whent).
Before he could win over major noble houses, he would be very passive.
Therefore, he needed to rapidly expand his forces!
Hall of Abundance.
At the foot of the mountains on the western side of the Bluegrass Hills, a beautiful castle built of white marble with golden veins stood majestically, a three-headed Red Dragon banner flying from its seven-tiered spire.
This was Daeron's castle.
"It's truly beautiful."
Daeron gazed at it, a rare smile appearing on his face.
Davos laughed: "Wait until you see the inside, my prince. You'll find it even more beautiful."
The architectural inspiration for the Hall of Abundance came from Highgarden in The Reach.
Double walls encircled the land at the foot of the mountains, with the towering castle standing imposingly within. The courtyards were divided into front and back, along with a dragon pit (landing field), all filled with grapevines, roses, and briars—
However, Daeron placed greater importance on the budding city taking shape outside the castle walls.
Davos pointed and explained: "My prince, as per your city planning sketches, we have settled the families of the Dragon Guards and the orphans in the residential area near the castle. They are helping to clear the land, build inns and blacksmith shops, and are being given handicraft work."
The common folk have land to farm, inns and other shops generate tax revenue, and the handicraft work provides supplemental income for the orphans' households.
The Prince's Domain was being perfected step by step.
Daeron nodded: "What's important are the families of the Dragon Guards. They've moved here; they need to be settled quickly."
"Of course," Davos thumped his chest in assurance.
.
The rear courtyard.
Daeron, clad in black, stood upon a large stone.
Barristan and Ser Jon stood below, faithfully guarding their prince.
In the courtyard, Alliser, Jacaerys, and Howland looked up at him, followed by a row of sturdy Dragon Guards clad in heavy armor.
Thirteen in total.
Daeron swept his gaze over them and spoke: "You are my followers, my subordinates."
"I will grant you an opportunity, one that can change your lives."
He would provide these men with ample special crops, enough to stuff them until they mastered Life Force.
Especially the three, Alliser and the others, who would have great prospects in the future.
Jacaerys, who had joined later, said excitedly: "My prince, when I became a Dragon Guard, it was to serve you."
"And the rest of you?"
Daeron glanced at the others.
The ten core Dragon Guards exchanged looks, already understanding they had hit the jackpot, barely able to contain their excitement.
Suddenly, a noise came from behind the rockery.
Caraxes poked out its draconic head, its serpentine body slowly twisting, its red scales shimmering in the sunlight as it crawled on its wings to its rider's side.
Daeron's expression remained unchanged as he said: "Now, I give you the chance to renew your oaths of fealty to me."
"You will fight for me, no matter who the enemy is or what obstacles lie ahead."
As he spoke, Caraxes stood beside its rider, its molten-gold vertical pupils surveying the would-be oath-takers, opening its maw to let out a warning-like hiss and roar.
"Ssss-gaaa—!"
Alliser and the others shuddered, their initial excitement now tinged with a trace of fear.
They were experiencing firsthand the terror of a dragon.
Daeron observed their expressions and said calmly: "But if you choose to be faithless, if you swear falsely now and later commit treason, you will surely die screaming!"
Carrot and stick, a strategy that never fails.
These men were the first batch of Life Force knights to be force-fed with special crops, but they wouldn't be the last.
He didn't want to waste special crops nurturing a pack of ingrates.
Thud! Thud!
Led by Jacaerys, the thirteen men knelt on one knee in unison, bowing their heads, exposing their necks.
Under the gaze of Daeron and the dragon, they swore their oaths of fealty in unison.
"Good."
Daeron remained unmoved, gesturing for Davos to distribute their respective shares.
Davos was lucky; he had unexpectedly mastered Life Force during the last Hawaiian Festival.
In contrast, Alliser, who had followed him longer, had shown no progress.
And still had to renew his oath.
Caraxes watched them for a long time, confirming there were no treacherous scoundrels among them, then reined in its violent temper and turned to fly into the sky.
"Ssss-gaaa!"
"Ssss-gaaa————"
In the azure sky, one blue and one black dragon soared among the clouds, occasionally breathing fire at each other, competing for a single special fish.
"Ssss-gaaa!"
After returning to King's Landing, Daeron had taken all three dragons with him.
He didn't leave a single one for his father.
"You don't want to name me your heir, so I don't need to accommodate you either."
Daeron was sick of his father Aerys's selfishness.
He hated stupidity!
The proposal in Harrenhal by Tywin to change the heir had reached his ears.
It wasn't Varys, who was skilled at gathering intelligence, nor was it Qarlton, who was best at showing off.
It was Lucerys, who hailed from Driftmark.
Lucerys, sharing the pride of Valyria nobility, couldn't stand the king's fickleness and his colleagues' scheming, and chose to go all-in on Daeron.
He told him everything.
And warned Daeron not to let Aerys near the dragons anymore, and not to return to King's Landing.
As long as Daeron still controlled the armed forces in King's Landing and continued to raise the three dragons.
He would be the heir to the Iron Throne.
Daeron thought to himself: "Lucerys is right. Father is going mad, Rhaegar is acting foolishly. I just need to wait for a change in circumstances, then I'll enter King's Landing and purge the court of malign influences."
Apart from himself, he couldn't rely on anyone.
Daeron stretched, his mood a mix of good and bad.
Without him, this family would fall apart sooner or later.
As he was thinking, Davos hurried over: "My prince, Lord Staunton has arrived as ordered, and he brought a contingent of Riverlands knights with him."
"Riverlands knights? From where?"
Daeron frowned.
Davos confirmed: "I saw Ser Brynden. He's leading the Riverlands knights, but he and Lord Staunton seem to have just traveled together."
"Brynden Tully, and just traveling together."
Daeron pondered briefly and roughly guessed the reason.
"Let's go meet them."
The castle gate.
Staunton was pacing anxiously, constantly looking towards the tightly shut gates.
With a rumble, the gates slowly opened, revealing the figure he had been waiting for.
Daeron wore a smile: "Lord Staunton, what brings you here?"
"My prince, you've finally come out."
Staunton's opening words were a complaint as he produced a letter: "This is a letter from His Grace for you. Please read it quickly."
Daeron's smile faded as he took the letter and examined it.
The content was simple, the wording fierce.
His father commanded him to return to King's Landing immediately and bring the three dragons, or else———— a bunch of nonsense.
Staunton leaned in to look and urged: "My prince, His Grace said... if you return to King's Landing, he will consider naming you the Crown Prince."
He thought he was being helpful.
Neither the king nor the Small Council liked Rhaegar; the best candidate for Crown Prince was Daeron.
If the prince obeyed the king, they could benefit as well.
"Crown Prince?"
Daeron closed the letter and suddenly laughed.
Staunton, completely unaware of the danger, continued on his own: "That's right! As long as you return, you will surely be the Crown Prince!"
Thwack!
As soon as the words left his mouth, a heavy fist smashed into his face.
Daeron's expression turned cold. He knocked the man to the ground and aimed punches at that fawning old face.
To hell with your Crown Prince! To hell with your Mad King!
I have dragons and prestige.
From now on, like a fish entering the vast sea, like a bird soaring into the blue sky, I will never be bound again!
"My prince!"
Davos and the others were shocked and hurried over to break up the fight.
If they didn't pull him away, Lord Staunton would be beaten to death.
Pulled back, Daeron still managed to deliver two hard kicks, not forgetting to claim the moral high ground: "If you dare spread rumors and deceive my father again, I'll kill you, you old wretch."
He really thought he was someone important, daring to come deliver a message.
Just see if Qarlton dares to come.