At that moment, Vhagar also descended.
The old dragon's landing made the entire forest tremble, dust billowing into the air.
Then she let out a low growl—not one of anger, but something closer to a call.
Helaena's Dreamfyre hesitated for a moment, then slowly walked toward Vhagar.
The silver-blue she-dragon appeared small before the massive old dragon.
She lowered her head and let out a submissive whine. Vhagar was her mother—this was an instinct etched into her bloodline.
Vhagar nudged Dreamfyre's head with her nose, the motion unusually gentle.
The two dragons growled softly to each other, a language only dragons could understand.
Aemond watched the scene.
"See?"
"Dragons are far simpler than men."
"Bloodline. Strength. Obedience."
"No conspiracies, and no betrayal."
Helaena's emotions finally settled somewhat.
She looked at Aemond—this boy who had just been risking his life playing games at extreme altitude, yet now calmly spoke about the nature of dragons.
"Why do you do this kind of training?" she asked.
"Just to… prove that you can?"
"For war," Aemond said, becoming serious.
"A dragonrider is a dragon's greatest weakness."
"We sit upon their backs, exposed in the air—no cover, no retreat."
"In a dragon battle, if the rider is killed, the dragon loses command, falls into chaos, and becomes uncontrollable."
He walked to Lothorne and stroked the black scales along the dragon's neck.
"But everyone believes that combat between dragonriders happens on dragonback."
"They make the dragons breathe fire at each other, or tear at one another."
Aemond turned his head.
"But what if… I could personally kill the opposing dragonrider with my own hands?"
Helaena drew in a sharp breath.
"At close range. Face to face," Aemond continued.
"No dragon can protect its rider then—because the enemy would be right there on its back."
"And the rider would still be strapped to the saddle…"
"At that moment, it comes down to courage, to… who is more insane."
He smiled.
"And I, Helaena—I was born able to command two dragons."
"I can jump from one dragon to another, switch mounts in midair, do everything people believe impossible."
A chill ran through Helaena.
She looked at Aemond and suddenly realized that all his training, all his preparation, had been for one purpose.
For a war that had not yet come—but one he was certain would come.
After that, they strolled through the forest.
The forest beside the Gods Eye was enormous.
Aemond held Helaena's hand. Vhagar and Dreamfyre rested in a clearing not far away.
Lothorne flew above them in circles, watching the surroundings like a sentinel.
Helaena looked at Aemond and finally asked the question she had wanted to ask in her heart.
"Is it for that day?" she asked.
"But now… the realm is at peace."
"Rhaenyra has given up the position of heir."
Aemond answered with a smile.
"Peace?"
"But according to the intelligence I've received, the Blacks are making massive preparations for war—raising men in large numbers, stockpiling on a vast scale: grain, weapons, timber, medicines."
"The shipyards on Driftmark are working day and night."
"If that isn't preparing for war, then what is it?"
Helaena froze. "But… Princess Rhaenyra has already given up the position of heir. How could they still be preparing for war?"
"If it isn't for a civil war," Aemond stopped walking and turned to look at her as he held her hand, "who do you think it's for?"
Helaena thought, her brows knitting slightly.
If it wasn't for a civil war, then why prepare for war?
What enemy required the Blacks to make such a tremendous effort?
Suddenly, she thought of it.
"The Triarchy…" she murmured.
Aemond nodded, approval in his eyes.
"Lys, Tyrosh, Myr," he listed.
Helaena's breathing quickened.
She grabbed Aemond's arm. "Then I have to tell Alyn!"
"Rogare—they're our allies, they—"
"Why tell her?" Aemond shot back.
Helaena went still. "Because… because the Rogares are our allies."
"Aegon married Alyn. The Greens and the Rogares are joined by marriage."
"If the Blacks attack Lys, shouldn't we help?"
Aemond laughed.
"Father has tacitly approved this as well."
That short sentence was like ice water poured over Helaena's head.
"What… do you mean?"
"It means," Aemond turned around to face her and said each word clearly, "that in Father's agreement with Daemon, this was very likely included."
"If the Blacks sail east to wage war on the Triarchy, His Grace will have the Greens remain neutral—perhaps even permit it."
"In exchange, the Blacks give up the Iron Throne."
Helaena's lips trembled. "This… this is betraying our allies."
"The Rogare family trusted us—that's why they married their daughter into us."
"There is no trust. Only interests," Aemond said bluntly.
"Father needs the Blacks to leave Westeros. He needs to avoid a civil war."
"For that, he is very willing to sacrifice an in-law from a Free Trade City, to preserve his own House."
"And Daemon needs a war to prove himself. He also needs land to settle his supporters."
"And the Triarchy… happens to be just right."
"And besides, Alyn doesn't know."
"Father hid it from all of us—or rather, he thought he could hide it from me?"
Helaena felt a wave of dizziness.
"So… Alyn doesn't know her family is about to be attacked?"
"She doesn't know," Aemond confirmed. "And I don't intend to tell her, either."
Helaena lifted her head and looked at Aemond.
The dawn light shone from behind him, edging his silhouette in gold, but his face was hidden in shadow, his expression unreadable.
"What… you won't intervene?" she asked.
"You won't care about the fate of the Rogare family?"
Aemond stepped closer.
He raised a hand and gently lifted Helaena's chin, making her look directly into his eyes.
"Why should I?" he asked in return.
"Let them go conquer the Triarchy..."
"Father does not have long to live…"
"Let the Blacks exhaust their soldiers, exhaust their wealth, exhaust the strength of their dragons."
"When they are completely spent, when they believe they have succeeded…"
"…that will be the moment we conquer them."
"Everything they do will only be making a wedding dress for us."
Helaena's pupils contracted. She understood.
She understood completely.
Aemond had never cared about the survival of the Triarchy, nor about the fate of the Rogares, nor even about the agreement between their father and Daemon.
He cared about only one thing—watching the Blacks exhaust themselves in the east.
And then, when he was ready, harvesting everything.
"What are the Seven Kingdoms?" Aemond continued.
"And what is Westeros?"
"In this world, we Targaryens should stand above all living beings."
"With dragonfire we will redraw the borders."
"Our bloodline alone should decide everything."
"All men should submit to our will—the Andals, the First Men, the Rhoynar, and those self-important city lords across the eastern continent."
His hand slid from Helaena's chin to her cheek, then cupped her face.
"You are the person I trust most, Helaena," Aemond said.
"These words, these thoughts—I would only ever speak them to you."
"Because I need you to understand. I need you to stand at my side, as the only one who can truly understand me."
Helaena's body trembled slightly.
She remembered her dreams—blood staining the earth red, dragons tearing at one another, flames devouring everything.
She had always feared that dream would come true. She had always hoped Aemond could avoid that path.
"Will you burn everything?" Helaena asked softly.
"Only the things that stand in our way," Aemond replied. "Clearing every obstacle for the Targaryens."
He released her face and instead took both of her hands.
His palms were warm.
"Will you?" Aemond asked.
"Will you come with me and see that world… the one reforged by our dragonfire?"
Helaena remained silent for a long time.
She looked at Aemond.
At this boy—mad, dangerous, perhaps destined to drag the entire world into war.
And also at the only person who understood her, the only one who did not treat her as a freak, the only one who promised to protect her forever.
At last, Helaena nodded.
Very lightly, but firmly.
"I will always believe in you," she said.
"Wherever you go, I will go."
"Whatever you burn, I will watch turn to ashes."
Aemond smiled—a genuine smile from the heart.
He embraced Helaena tightly, as though holding the only flame in the darkness.
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