"How is the Faith in King's Landing getting all this money?" Aemond asked curiously.
"My prince, we don't know." Krytt shook his head. "But according to our intelligence, the Faith in King's Landing suddenly came into possession of a massive sum of money over the past few months."
Aemond said nothing further.
He already had a vague idea of what the Faith was trying to do.
Krytt continued, "Those grain supplies were stockpiled by the Faith in several warehouses throughout the city. Then…"
"Then?"
"The night before last, those warehouses caught fire."
"All the grain burned."
The forest fell silent.
Moonlight filtered through the gaps between the leaves, falling across Aemond's face.
That handsome face showed no expression at all, yet both Krytt and Carter could feel it—
That chill seeping out from his very bones.
"How did the Faith explain it?" Aemond asked.
"The Faith claims it was arson committed by Black sympathizers," Krytt replied.
"The septons have been preaching all over the city, saying assassins sent by Rhaenyra Targaryen burned the grain in order to plunge King's Landing into famine…"
Aemond let out a cold laugh.
"And next," he said, "there are probably rumors spreading through King's Landing that this war between the Targaryens no longer cares whether the smallfolk of the city live or die?"
Krytt raised his head, surprise flashing through his eyes.
"The Prince Regent is wise."
"Go on."
Krytt took a deep breath and began his report. "Rumors are everywhere in the city now."
"There's an old man calling himself the 'Shepherd' saying the Seven have sent down punishment because the Targaryens are slaughtering their own kin."
"Some say the Blacks care nothing for whether the smallfolk starve to death, so long as they can reclaim the Iron Throne."
"Others say the Greens treat the smallfolk like dirt—that Dragon's Roost clearly has enormous grain reserves, yet watches King's Landing descend into hunger so they can later sell food at exorbitant prices."
He paused, lowering his voice even further. "And some are saying… saying that Your Grace intends to usurp His Majesty's throne."
Carter looked at Aemond nervously.
But Aemond did not get angry. His expression did not even change. He merely listened quietly.
"This is the prelude to a riot," Aemond said dismissively.
Krytt and Carter exchanged glances, then both nodded.
"Tell me," Aemond asked the two of them, "what do you think the Faith truly wants?"
The two men fell silent for a moment.
"The Faith… why would they do this?" Aemond continued. "What is it they actually want?"
Krytt hesitated before carefully saying, "Perhaps… perhaps they want more power?"
"During the coronation, Your Grace already granted the Faith quite a few privileges…"
"Power?" Aemond cut him off. "What they truly want…"
He lifted his head and looked toward the sky overhead.
The moonlight was pale. The stars were sparse.
"They want to kill dragons."
Krytt and Carter both stiffened at the same time.
Kill dragons?
The Faith wanted to kill dragons?
Without waiting for them to answer, Aemond continued, "Rhaenys's Dragonpit."
"The dragons are chained there."
"If one day the smallfolk of King's Landing riot and storm the Dragonpit, what do you think will happen?"
Krytt's expression changed.
"Thousands of people. Tens of thousands. Charging forward wave after wave."
"Dragons can breathe fire. They can bite. They can tear enemies apart. But inside the Dragonpit, they cannot take flight."
"And dragons grow tired. They can be wounded. They can die."
"If the mob is large enough, and mad enough, they truly would have a chance to bury the dragons beneath sheer numbers."
"They want to incite the smallfolk into rioting, storming the Dragonpit, and slaughtering every Targaryen dragon."
"Afterward, the Faith can play the compassionate savior and claim it was merely a riot by the mobs of King's Landing—a tragic disaster that befell the realm."
Aemond paused briefly, a faint smile appearing at the corner of his lips.
"But they've forgotten one thing."
Krytt asked curiously, "My prince, what is it?"
"I am not Maegor."
Aemond's voice was soft, yet every word drove into their hearts like nails.
"I will only be stronger than Maegor."
"Maegor only knew how to kill."
"The more people he killed, the better. The faster he killed, the better."
"He made no distinction between friend or foe, severity or circumstance."
"And so he died."
Aemond looked at the two men, his purple eyes gleaming faintly beneath the moonlight.
"But I am not like him."
"I know when people should be killed, and when they should not."
"I know how many people should be killed, and which people are worth killing."
"I kill people to make them fear me, not to make them hate me."
Aemond took a deep breath, as though suppressing something within himself.
"If they want to play games, then I'll play with them."
"Let them keep spreading rumors. Let them keep inciting people."
"Let everyone crawl out into the open. Then…"
He did not continue.
But both Krytt and Carter understood.
When the time came, he would wipe them all out in one sweep.
"Prince Regent," Carter finally gathered the courage to ask after remaining silent all this time.
"When that time comes… how many people will die?"
Aemond looked at him and answered coldly.
"I don't know."
"Maybe ten thousand. Maybe several tens of thousands."
"Maybe even more."
"And that would give us a perfectly justified reason to slaughter them, wouldn't it?"
Both Krytt and Carter went pale.
"What?" Aemond asked. "Afraid?"
Krytt clenched his teeth and shook his head. "I'm not afraid. I just… just…"
"You just think those people are pitiful?" Aemond finished for him.
"You think they're being manipulated, that they're innocent, that they shouldn't die?"
Krytt said nothing, but his silence was answer enough.
Aemond looked at him, then suddenly smiled.
There was no mockery in that smile. Only a strange sort of… pity.
"Are those people pitiful?"
"They are."
"But does being pitiful mean they shouldn't die?"
"When it's time for them to die, they still die."
"That's how this world works. There's never been any fairness to it."
"This world exists for the sake of the stronger."
Krytt fell silent.
"It's not that I want to kill them," Aemond said. "It's that they want to kill us. I'm merely waiting for them to make the first move."
"If they do nothing, then neither will I…"
He turned and walked toward Lothorne.
"Keep watching them," his voice drifted out from the darkness. "Let them continue. Let everyone reveal themselves."
"And when the time comes, I'll make the people of the Seven Kingdoms understand…"
"…just how ruthless we Targaryens can become when pushed too far."
"Yes, Prince Regent," Krytt and Carter answered in unison.
Aemond's figure had already melted into the darkness, leaving only his voice echoing through the night.
"The moment the riots begin, make sure every member of the royal family is evacuated safely."
"Rest assured, Prince Regent," Krytt called out loudly. "We've already prepared boats beneath the Red Keep's cellars that lead to the sea caves along the shore."
"If anything happens, we can guarantee the entire royal family's safety."
A soft chuckle came from the darkness.
"Good."
Then silence returned.
Krytt and Carter remained standing there without moving.
Only after Lothorne's golden eyes vanished into the darkness, only after the night wind scattered every lingering trace of their presence, did they slowly raise their heads and exchange glances.
Fear hid deep within both their eyes.
The Prince Regent truly was capable of anything.
Lothorne soared through the night sky.
Aemond rode upon his back, feeling the night wind howl past his ears. Below him, the outline of Dragon's Roost grew farther and farther away until it finally vanished into the darkness.
His heart was beating rapidly.
That feeling had returned again.
The restless power surging through his blood was like a beast roaring inside him, desperate to break free of its chains.
He knew what it was.
Ever since returning from Dragonstone, the sensation had become increasingly frequent.
Every time he killed someone, every time he thought about killing, it appeared.
His bloodline was evolving.
That was what Alys Rivers had told him.
She said his soul was merging, and his bloodline was awakening.
The power of the ancient Valyrian dragonlords was reviving within him.
Ordinary blades could no longer wound him. Ordinary poisons could no longer kill him.
He possessed resistance to dragonfire and an affinity for flame.
He could hatch dragon eggs with his own blood, accelerate a dragon's growth with his blood, even control hatchlings with it.
He was no mere mortal.
He was a true dragon.
Sensing its master's emotions, Lothorne released an excited roar.
The cry echoed across the night sky, startling countless birds from the forest below.
Aemond closed his eyes, allowing that savage violence to consume him, to release the true nature buried within.
He did not want things to come to this.
But he still had to walk this path…
They wanted a riot?
Then let it come.
Let those mobs storm the Dragonpit.
Let those fanatics of the Faith of the Seven continue their incitement.
Let those old schemers in the Citadel continue plotting.
And when the time came, he would make them understand what true fear really was.
He would surpass Maegor I Targaryen.
He would be more ruthless than Maegor ever was.
And standing atop the corpses of those people, he would make them understand the price of becoming enemies of House Targaryen.
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