"Alive?" Rhaenyra's voice turned sharp.
"Daemon, I am the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms!
"I am Father's rightful heir!
"I'm not running!"
"So you'd rather die?!" Daemon's voice rose as well.
"You'd rather watch our children die?!"
Rhaenyra's face went pale—not from fear, but from rage.
The kind of rage so absolute that all the blood drains from your face, leaving nothing behind but a deathly white.
"Daemon."
She spoke his name.
"You're becoming more and more cowardly."
"What exactly are you afraid of?"
Daemon froze.
Not just for an instant.
He truly froze.
Every muscle in his face stiffened. Even his eyes stopped blinking.
The expression lasted only a second.
But Rhaenyra saw it.
So did Addam and Alyn.
"I'm not afraid," Daemon said.
But his voice no longer carried the steady confidence it had a moment ago. It sounded cracked, as though something inside him had splintered.
"You are."
Rhaenyra stepped forward, lifted her chin, and stared straight into his eyes.
"Are you afraid of Aemond?"
Daemon's pupils contracted violently.
The next moment, he swept out a hand.
The wine cup on the table flew through the air.
Hurled with tremendous force, it traced a silver arc before smashing against the distant stone wall.
Crash!
It shattered.
Dark red wine splashed across the stone and slowly trickled downward like a pool of blood.
"I'm not afraid of him!" Daemon roared.
His shout exploded through the stone hall.
In the corner, the maid holding little Aegon flinched in terror and instinctively pulled the queen's son tighter into her arms.
Daemon's chest heaved violently.
His eyes were bloodshot.
The face that had once been impossibly handsome was now twisted like that of a madman—not because he'd lost his mind, but because the raw nerve inside him had been struck, leaving only wounded fury.
"Rhaenyra!"
"I would die for you!"
"I would kill anyone for you!"
"If you told me to kill Aemond tomorrow, I'd do it tomorrow!"
"If you told me to kill Vhagar, I'd mount Caraxes and fly there this very moment!"
"You think I'm afraid of him? Afraid of what?
"I can kill him!
"I know I can!"
"Then why?!"
"BECAUSE I'M AFRAID YOU'LL DIE!!!"
The moment Daemon shouted those words, something in his voice suddenly broke.
Little Aegon.
The two-year-old son of Rhaenyra and Daemon, cradled in a maid's arms.
His father's roar had terrified him.
His tiny face had gone white.
His lips trembled.
Tears welled in his purple eyes, yet he didn't dare cry.
He simply stared at Daemon, frozen in place, his eyes filled with nothing but fear.
Daemon's rage was like a fire doused with a bucket of cold water.
It died.
Completely.
He looked at his son.
At that tiny, pale face filled with terror.
Suddenly, he couldn't speak.
What he feared wasn't Aemond.
It wasn't Vhagar.
It wasn't the Greens.
It wasn't any enemy.
He was afraid that little Aegon would end up like Jacaerys...
His head hanging above the Red Keep.
He was afraid his children would die tragic deaths.
He was afraid everyone he loved would die, leaving only him behind.
But Daemon had never told anyone any of this.
He had never even admitted it to himself.
He had always believed he was fearless.
That he was invincible.
That there was nothing in this world he feared.
But now...
He could no longer deny it.
He was afraid.
Afraid of losing them...
Rhaenyra looked at Daemon.
Her eyes shimmered with tears, but none fell.
She had already shed too many tears along the way.
She didn't want to cry anymore.
She walked over and reached out, taking his hand.
It was trembling.
The hand of Daemon.
The hand that had wielded Dark Sister.
The hand that had slain countless men.
It was trembling.
"I'm sorry," Daemon said quietly.
"I shouldn't have lost my temper."
Rhaenyra said nothing.
She simply tightened her grip around his hand.
"Once Hugh is dealt with..." Daemon took a deep breath.
"You and the children will go to Tyrosh."
Rhaenyra's eyes widened slightly.
"And you?"
"I'll remain on Dragonstone in your stead."
"You'll die."
"Maybe." Daemon gave a bitter smile.
"But you and the children will live."
"I don't want you to die."
For the first time, Rhaenyra's voice caught in her throat.
But she bit down on her lip.
"I don't want you to die for me either."
"You don't have a choice," Daemon said. "Neither do I."
The two looked into each other's eyes for a long time.
In the end, Rhaenyra nodded.
"All right."
"I promise. Once Hugh has been dealt with..."
"I'll take the children back to Tyrosh."
At those words, a faint smile returned to Daemon's face.
He had never feared fighting Aemond to the death.
He simply didn't want any vulnerabilities by his side.
Just then, the doors to the hall swung open.
One of Mysaria's attendants stumbled inside.
He rushed over to her and raised a letter above his head.
Mysaria took it.
The wax seal was unbroken.
Dark green wax, stamped with a house sigil.
A slight frown crossed her face.
She broke the seal and unfolded the parchment.
Her eyes swept rapidly across the letter.
Her expression changed.
"What is it?" Daemon asked.
Mysaria looked up, a smile tugging at her lips.
"Things may have just taken a turn for the better, Daemon."
She handed him the letter.
Hearing that it was good news, Daemon snatched it from her without hesitation.
He didn't want to admit how eager he was.
But his body had already made the decision for him.
He unfolded the parchment.
At the top was a house sigil—a white field crossed by pale blue, red, and green stripes.
"Strong..." Daemon murmured.
Rhaenyra leaned over for a glance.
"Strong?" Her brow furrowed. "The Strongs of Harrenhal?"
Daemon quickly skimmed through the letter.
The farther he read, the brighter his violet eyes became.
Rhaenyra read a few lines over his shoulder as well.
Her expression shifted from skepticism to surprise, then from surprise to delight.
"Larys has joined forces with the Faith." Daemon lowered the letter, unable to hide the excitement in his voice.
"They're planning to incite a riot in King's Landing."
"What?" Laenor stepped away from the stone table. "Larys? Larys of the Greens?"
"That's right."
Daemon planted both hands on the stone table and leaned forward, like a beast poised to pounce.
"The letter says Larys Strong has secretly allied himself with the Faith and plans to stir up a riot in King's Landing."
"They'll also attempt to assassinate Aemond."
"Why?" Rhaenyra asked. "Isn't Larys one of Aemond's men?"
"Why would he turn against him?"
Daemon laughed.
The smile was full of mockery.
"Because Larys Strong is a clever man."
"And men like him are loyal only to themselves."
"Aemond may look powerful now..."
He paused, tapping his fingers against the stone table.
"But the Faith has already resolved to assassinate him."
"And Larys intends to help them from the shadows."
"In return, he wants the title of Warden."
"A Warden?" Rhaenyra's voice rose. "He thinks he's worthy of becoming a Warden?"
"That's right. A Warden."
Daemon stood up, his face full of contempt.
Rhaenyra fell silent.
Her mind raced.
Larys Strong.
The Greens' master of whispers.
Aemond's right-hand man.
Now he wanted to switch sides.
He claimed he had a way to keep Aemond tied down in King's Landing.
His only demand was the title of Warden.
What was the price?
The price was that once the Blacks won, Larys Strong would not be purged.
He would go from being a vassal of the Greens to a hero of the Blacks.
He would remain Lord of Harrenhal.
Perhaps even become a Warden.
"You don't trust him," Rhaenyra said.
"Of course I don't."
Daemon snorted.
"Larys Strong is a fickle dog."
"But tell me..."
"When does a dog ever dare bite its own master?"
Daemon walked over until he stood before Rhaenyra, his violet eyes locked onto hers.
"Larys wouldn't betray his side without a reason."
"He must have seen something we haven't."
"The situation in King's Landing may be even worse than we imagined."
"If even that cripple wants to abandon ship, then the Greens' rule over King's Landing must be hanging by a thread."
Rhaenyra bit her lower lip.
"He wants to be a Warden?"
"Yes."
"We can give him that."
"Yes."
"But if we do... will he really help us?"
Daemon held her gaze.
"I don't know."
"But we don't have any other cards left to play."
"Tully is dead. Stark has disappeared. The Riverlands army has scattered for the time being."
"We need someone inside King's Landing to make trouble for Aemond."
"Not a small inconvenience."
"A major one."
"Big enough that he can't leave King's Landing... at least not for a while."
…
Note:
And with that, we've reached the end of the currently available chapters.
Unfortunately, the original author hasn't posted any new updates for quite some time, so it's very likely that the novel has been abandoned. If the series is ever resumed and new chapters are released, I'll gladly pick it back up and continue translating it.
Thank you all for your support. I truly appreciate it, and I'll see you in the next project!