Darkscythe Drake
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Nihilus Filius Et Saceros Preview, Chapter 7
🕑 Added 2023-11-11 14:55:32 +0000 UTC“Is something wrong with the fireplace, lord husband? Shall I fetch a servant to douse it?”
The elder Velaryon gave a quick glance to his wife before returning his stare to the blazing wood, tongues of flames flickering in and out of the steel cage. One hand was idly fiddling with his sea-blue robes while the other held a silver chalice of Arbor Gold. The gentle sloshing of the wine was drowned by the sounds of the flames, but he could still hear it. It was calming, in a manner. “No, it is not the fire that bothers me. Though I am afraid I might toss something into it.”
Rhaenys tapped her manicured finger on the delicately carved armrest of her chair. “Then it is Daemon. What has he done now?”
“What makes you think it is him? Better yet, what makes you think that I am troubled?”
His wife shot him an exasperated look. “Corlys, I have been your wife for more than ten years. Since the day you took me to wife, I have stuck by your side on every occasion, save for my pregnancy with our twins. Your tells have become as open as those charts on your table. Every time you returned from a Small Council meeting and sulked like this, that meant either Otto Hightower pushed back your requests for aid on the Stepstones or anything related to trade, or Daemon made a comment or acted in a manner that ruffled your feathers. Since our dear Hand is not present, there is only one option remaining.”
This time, Corlys’s stare remained on Rhaenys, his head tilted in a mixture of curiosity and slight amusement. “Oh? Quite an assumption you make, my dear. Perhaps it is a missive I received from Ser Otto that rankles me so. Or maybe it is Vaemond offering another complaint, as he is wont to.”
Rhaenys simply countered with a delicate eyebrow raised and a swirl of her goblet. “Hightower would not contact you unless on order from the King, and last I heard Vaemond has gone quiet since overseeing new trading orders from Pentos. And so, there remains Daemon.”
A moment later, he let out an amused chuckle. “Am I that transparent, wife?”
The corner of Rhaenys’s lips curved upwards, her finger now twirling a lock of black-and-silver hair. The Lord of House Velaryon closed his eyes and exhaled. “Yes, it is Daemon. I have half a mind to order his confinement to his quarters, goodson or no.”
“What has he done this time?” she asked. Corlys took a sip of his wine and began regaling his wife with the events his daughter witnessed not hours ago.
“Daemon has challenged our new guest Albaz to spar with his Valyrian steel sword, right after the evening meal. And right before that, he goaded the boy to…change into his dragon form.”
Rhaenys’s eyes shot open. “He did what!?”
“Thankfully, Laena and Lady Ecclesia managed to avert a catastrophe,” he continued, gesturing for her to relax. “Nothing was damaged, save for the Prince’s pride, and our guests will join us for dinner. Whether a spar will occur or not, Laena doesn’t know.”
He rubbed his forehead as the heat of the fireplace spread throughout the room. Rhaenys looked between him and her cup. “Why are you not confronting him?”
He hummed for a moment and then spoke, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice. “...a man’s curiosity can be a terrible thing.”
She paused, then gave a slow nod as he saw the understanding flash in her lilac eyes. “You wish to see a further glimpse of the boy’s power.”
He nodded. “They have not ventured from their room and the nearby quarters since they came to the island. I posted guards next to their rooms, but I did not order them to restrict any movements.” He rested his cup on a small table and steepled his fingers. “I would not bet a copper that word of them has spread to the castle, and I’ve heard that the visiting nobles have taken to lingering in the courtyards more than usual.”
“A controlled demonstration. To show the new power our House has added to its stables.” Rhaneys said. “But why not wait till we visit the King? The Red Keep would yield a far greater audience -” she paused again and Corlys could envision the writings of his plan forming in her mind. “No, you wish to establish that this is a Velaryon discovery first and foremost. The Crown will have its due naturally, but the first ties are the most important. Word will spread, and more will come to seek them out - through us.” She tapped her chin in contemplation. “I recall that Lord Rosby has sent an envoy here, but who else?”
“Lord Stokesworth’s nephew, Simon, is squiring for one of our knights, and he is in regular correspondence with his uncle. The recently knighted Ser Emmon Hewett visited me yesterday for possible protection against Ironborn on his House’s behalf. Some minor houses from the Westerlands and the Reach have all sent representatives, to bargain and make deals with each other, mostly. A Manderly ship was supposed to have arrived two days ago, but they ran afoul of riptides which damaged their ship. They were forced to dock in Lannisport for repairs. Not to mention the captains and merchants from Dorne and Essos who regularly visit here for trade. ” His turned contemplative, his gaze turning upwards to the white-stone ceiling. “Hmm, upon reflection, a bit more varied than I thought. Almost every region of the kingdom has a representative here. Yes, yes, that should prove advantageous.”
“Shall I tell the cooks to prepare more meals?”
“No, I still wish for supper to be somewhat restrained. Though perhaps the training yard should be made open to all for a while. It will allow for both privacy and exposure.” He got up and dusted his gold-laced doublet. “If you shall excuse me wife, I must leave to sow the seeds.”
He reached for the door of his study, but Rhaenys asked one more question. “This has nothing to do with a sudden desire to offer an eggcup of humility our dear goodson?”
The corner of his lips twitched. “The wine must be stronger than you thought my dear. I would never dream of humiliating a Prince of the Realm.”
