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High Tide, Chapter 29
🕑 Added 2023-06-20 16:14:12 +0000 UTCThe Lady of Maidenpool
Third Moon, 91 AC
“Mother!” Maegon called out to her eagerly as she arrived in his rooms. At three years old, her younger son would be starting his lessons soon, but for a little while longer at least, he would be free to play all day. His toys were strewn around the room, including a stuffed dragon her father had gifted him.
She tried not to think about it, but sometimes she wondered if she was a good mother. She loved her sons dearly, if someone like her could love, but even they had been in some way tools of her spite and vengeance, by their very names.
Aegor and Maegon. Saera had been clever enough not to name any child of hers for Maegor, not directly at least, not after how her father had reacted the last time she had brought up that name. Still, that had not stopped her from naming her sons as closely to that name as she could. They were turning five and three this year, and already they were starting to look like her father. If that continued it would be quite amusing to have spitting images of Jaehaerys Targaryen running around with names similar to the man he hated most.
Spiteful actions and petty amusement had kept her going after her disgrace and exile from King’s Landing, but it had been selfish of her. Names were your very identity. Several of her siblings had been named for beloved family members or given good names to make their own, Saera had named her sons after the Cruel for spite alone. What kind of mother did that? What legacy was she giving them to be proud of?
Then there were the moments she looked at her sons and felt her heart swell and knew that that she would die for them. Everything she did now was for them. Not Jonah, not really herself either. Everything Saera did was to further her sons’ interests and ensure they would have the best they possibly could. It was why she had accepted her father’s reconciliation, to give Aegor the strongest Maidenpool she could. Her own feelings on the matter were inconsequential.
As for Maegon… he would have Grey Gallows, a barren rock in the Stepstones for now and the foreseeable future, but perhaps it might be more one day. She’d have to arrange all the details for their regency over the island until Maegon came of age; appoint a steward, send some of their ships and soldiers to start patrolling, and get to work on building the keep and port. Her father had been very generous in his aid for that, the least he could do for his grandson he said. How grandfatherly of him, she thought dryly.
A knock on the door drew her attention. “Saera, a word?” Jonah said.
Maegon rose to his feet and eagerly greeted his father before Jonah sent him back to his toys. Placing the stuffed dragon in her son’s arms, Saera left her son to his toy to speak to her husband. He had been very annoying after their trip to King’s Landing, but in time Saera had reasserted her authority. Judging by the look on his face however, she had a feeling she’d have to give him another reminder.
“What is it Jonah?” she demanded as they stood by the door. Oblivious to his parents’ conversation, their son stood up and ran around the room with his toy dragon, pretending he was flying.
“There is a man at the gates who has asked to speak with you. He is dressed inconspicuously but he carries a medallion embossed with a silver seahorse,” he said, unimpressed.
“Excellent, I have been expecting him,” Saera replied in a dismissive tone.
Jonah was not amused. “Saera, years ago I agreed to let you handle most of these matters because you had proven to me how capable you were in them but… this? What were you thinking? Dealing with the Velaryons? You risk endangering everything we have. Do you hate your father that much?”
Even now she still wasn’t sure what to think of her father, or where they stood. It felt… good, to not be sniping at her father anymore or to be disgraced, but that didn’t mean her loyalty had miraculously returned to him as he no doubt hoped it would. They may have forgiven each other for their past grievances, but six years of resentment and hatred were not so easily undone. Forgiven, not forgotten seemed to be the new normal for the two of them.
“No,” she answered. “Our reconciliation was… genuine but perhaps not complete. My loyalty is to House Mooton, Jonah, to our sons. Everything I do is to forward them and their interests.”
Deep down she would admit to herself that she enjoyed being in her father’s favor again, but she knew all too well how fickle it was. There was too much bad blood for them to be truly as close as they once were, even if they had let themselves forget it for one tender moment. If Saera was being completely honest with herself, while she had been touched by her father’s words, her reconciliation with him had been mostly borne out of pragmatism once she had overcome her emotions.
Not only did it accrue much and more for her house, including a long desired city charter that was already making them fabulous profits, but many other valuable concessions besides. Her reconciliation with her father had also, she had found, made him pliable to her wishes once again, to an extent, just like he had been when she was a young girl and she had used that to weasel even more concessions out of him.
Hopefully, it will help her get away with this brilliant scheme she’d thought up as well. She would support her father in the eyes of the realm, but in private, in secret, she had devised a plan that would benefit her and House Mooton and not her father, and Saera did not care. Her loyalty was to her sons now, not her father.
Jonah raised an eyebrow. “And you think that dealing with the Velaryons helps that?” he asked, aghast. “They’re finished Saera. Velos is destroyed and Corlys Velaryon’s younger brother is dead. Tyrosh is still not pacified and their coffers are bleeding. It is only a matter of time before they return to beg the King’s mercy.”
“Incorrect Jonah. The Velaryon fortune is immense. It may be bleeding but do you know how much there is to bleed? It was likened to the wealth of Casterly Rock for a reason.”
“Then why haven’t the Velaryons used it then? Tyrosh remains unpacified. They could hire a few thousand sellswords and purge all the dissidents with ease.”
“Because they need the city intact to produce money for them. Yes, they have the wealth needed to pacify it now, but it will be a brutal pacification and cost a fortune to carry out and pay for the rebuilding when it is over. Their wealth may end up diminished for nothing. The Velaryons are being cautious here. They did not become so rich by spending their money on a whim. They have more than enough to survive this struggle but I suspect they are so cautious and paranoid they do not even realize it themselves.
“When you are used to being unfathomably rich, it will weigh on your mind to see only the mounting losses with your income cut. However, we must remember where all these losses are coming from. I have studied their fiefs and their governance. Are you aware that the Velaryon coffers bleed to support not only their occupation in Tyrosh, but also to maintain their fleet, companies, and all other institutions such as their bank and university?
“Even now I am sure that great sums of money are flowing into keeping those institutions and companies not only alive, but ready to grow again when the time is right and with the resources of a Free City backing them, that new growth will be phenomenal once it arrives. I must also mention that they are subsidizing all the merchants on Driftmark long enough for them to reorient their trade to Essos and perhaps even relocate their operations to Tyrosh to escape the sanctions.”
Saera shook her head. “No my dear Jonah, the Velaryons are not finished. Far from it, it is certain to me that they will inevitably rise again in the future. And when they do I intend to ensure that our house stands to gain from it. We must strike now, while the Velaryons are weakened and desperate. We deal with them in secret and we can profit handsomely, and when they rise again, Maidenpool will profit greatly from the trade and concessions we will surely receive from it.”
Jonah, bless him, looked overwhelmed. Despite being the lord of a trade port, sums and counting coppers had never been his strong suit beyond the painfully obvious. He was far better at hitting stuff with his lance and sword. Still he managed to recover eventually.
“What about the risk? If your father discovers what we are up to, the consequences will be dire. And he can still crush the Velaryons at any moment if he pleases with his dragons.”
Saera shook her head. “Remember more recent events Jonah. He does not have the support needed to do it. He cannot even keep his own house in order.”
Everyone in Westeros and probably Essos too had heard of the Great Quarrel between King Jaehaerys and Queen Alysanne by now. Her sister Viserra had almost died in an assassination attempt that had poisoned and killed her goodbrother Ser Rhaekar Velaryon. Rumors had spread swiftly that her parents had argued furiously in the Small Council chambers over her father’s refusal to reconcile with Viserra in light of the recent tragedy.
Her mother and eldest sister Alyssa had flown off to Tyrosh in a fury but apparently something hadn’t gone quite right there either and soon enough they had left Tyrosh. Alyssa had returned to King’s Landing begrudgingly but her mother had gone to Dragonstone and there she remained. The entire realm was watching House Targaryen with bated breath now, and so was Saera. All this drama was quite amusing to her.
“We do not know how long that will last. The King and Queen have stood together for decades. Will this truly divide them?”
“Long enough for the Velaryons to have recovered to the point that working with them will fully bear fruit. I know my family, and I was reacquainted with them recently, I cannot see them being willing to outright kill Viserra even now.”
“That will not stop your father from punishing us should he discover our deceit,” Jonah insisted.
“He has far more pressing matters to worry about Jonah,” Saera answered.
Right now her father, her brothers Aemon and Baelon, and apparently even Aemon’s daughter and presumed second in line to the Iron Throne, Rhaenys, were leading the combined expeditionary fleet clearing out pirates in the Stepstones. Maidenpool soldiers had been sent to join that fleet when it was massing in the capital months ago.
Her father had wanted to reconquer the Stepstones with all six dragons at his disposal, to remind the realm of the power of House Targaryen. Instead, his queen and eldest daughter had deserted his war and remained at home doing nothing after a visit to his estranged daughter. The message it gave the realm’s nobles was one of weakness and division in the royal house, and Saera knew full well how much her father hated being thought of as weak.
She related her thoughts to Jonah. “This Great Quarrel is putting my father’s authority over his own house in question. All of his work to shore up the Iron Throne’s power and unite the realm in accepting his ridiculous sanctions and taxes is now being challenged. Sooner or later, the lords will begin to realize how pointless they are, especially once the Velaryons recover.
“Smuggling is rising. The piracy problem in the Stepstones will likely persist as well. The sanctions will soon prove their ineffectiveness, the nobility will begin to protest his laws once they begin feeling the effects in earnest, and his authority over his house is already in question. Where in all of this does he have the time to worry about us?”
Jonah was wary. “You and I both know how your father reacts to being perceived as weak.”
“I know. Still, it is a risk I am willing to take. With his current difficulties, difficulties that will only grow more, he will be desperate for support. I can use that to make him lower his guard with Maidenpool.”
Saera had already exploited her father’s emotional turmoil, writing letters reaffirming her support. She was also planning to visit King’s Landing upon his victorious return from the Stepstones to speak to him in private and shore up that impression. Old childhood skills being put to use once more.
Her husband narrowed his eyes. “You are not doing this out of any misplaced sense of sisterly love for Viserra are you? No sudden sympathy that has emerged after her recent near death?”
“No,” she answered promptly. It was a bit sad to even think it, but the idea was almost laughable. There was no love lost between her and Viserra. Still it had unnerved Saera nonetheless to hear that she had almost died. She didn’t wish death upon any of her siblings, they were still her kin despite everything.
Before this whole feud between Viserra and their father had started, Saera had even considered aligning Maidenpool with the Velaryons and their allies, seeking profits from the trade they had offered. It had certainly not been out of sisterly love then, and it wasn’t now either. It was pragmatism, as ever, for the benefit of House Mooton and her sons, and deep down a part of her knew that it was for the slightest bit of spite against her father as well.
Jonah scrutinized her further before sighing. “Very well. I will trust in your capabilities once more Saera, but on one condition.”
Saera stared at him, unimpressed. “Go on,” she said curtly.
“When we were in King’s Landing, I spoke to a certain ser at great length on a number of topics, primarily the possibility of further dealings between our houses and what they would entail.”
“Get to the point Jonah,” she said, cross with his dithering.
“The ser in question is Jasper Arryn, the heir and regent of the Vale.”
Saera froze. “Daella’s husband.”
“That is correct.”
“What did you even speak of?”
“Certainly not our wives and their animosity for each other. That was rather obviously avoided. We were speaking on the possibility of a more formal trade arrangement between the Vale and Maidenpool. Separate your feelings concerning Daella from it. What does that mind of yours tell you of the benefits of this Saera?”
Her mind had begun racing the moment Jasper’s name had been brought up. Saera hated to admit it but she knew working with House Arryn could only be beneficial to both of their houses. The Arryns were having… difficulties with their by now, most powerful vassal, House Grafton, the lords of the chief port in the Vale. Maidenpool would be well positioned to help them reduce their reliance on Gulltown, and in a way that would avoid empowering yet another of their vassals such as House Royce, who had their own ports. Even better for the Arryns, Maidenpool was in the King’s favor now and was around the same distance from the Eyrie as Gulltown was.
As for Maidenpool, Saera answered Jonah’s question. “A closer association with a great and noble house like the Arryns will strengthen our prestige and help to reduce any image we may have as lowly copper counters. Exports that might have previously gone through Gulltown will be funneled through Maidenpool instead, strengthening our appeal as a port city by having access to a whole kingdom’s goods. Of course, the increase in trade profits certainly won’t hurt either.”
“Not only that, the Arryns are held in more favor than us by the Iron Throne and have more power and prestige to fall back on. Allying with them may help shield us from any reprisal, should your dealings with the Velaryons be discovered.”
Saera raised an eyebrow. “Becoming trading partners is not the same as an alliance Jonah. The Arryns will cut us loose if that happens.”
“Not if we are kin,” he countered.
Her mind halted. “What on earth do you mean by that? If you want to be fussy, I suppose we are kin through myself and Daella, but that is certainly not going to forge an alliance considering the state of our relationship.”
“It will not,” Jonah agreed. “No Ser Jasper and I had something else in mind. We are in agreement that the blood of the dragon in our houses should remain as pure as possible. He suggested a betrothal between our son Aegor and his daughter Aemma.”
“You want to betroth my son to Daella’s daughter?” Saera was aghast.
“Our son, Saera, and yes. I do.”
“Why?”
“It would solidify our alliance and it would help keep the Targaryen blood in our families as pure as possible. Don’t you Targaryens love that?”
“That’s different. My family members marry and fuck siblings to keep our Valyrian blood pure for the sake of keeping control over the dragons… Dragons. That’s what you want.” Saera realized.
She noticed Jonah was eyeing the stuffed dragon Maegon was playing with avarice now. “Yes,” he rasped. “House Velaryon proves it is possible through a Targaryen princess. In these increasingly trying times, dragons will ensure the safety and power of our house.”
“The Targaryens will never let it happen! My family is very paranoid after Viserra stole Dreamfyre. The Dragonpit and Dragonstone both are locked up tightly and they will never allow our children or Daella and I close enough to be tempted.”
“True enough but there are other reasons justifying the match. It will ally Maidenpool and the Eyrie unbreakably and allow both our houses to grow strong. And should the opportunity to acquire dragons ever arise, it is better to have the blood needed when the time comes. You should make sure our sons’ High Valyrian is passable enough for that opportunity. They will need it, either for themselves or to teach our grandchildren.”
“Do not be blinded by your greed Jonah! That opportunity may never come! Besides, Aemma is much older than our son! They are both heirs, how will the succession be handled?” Saera protested.
“I am being greedy perhaps, but it need not be for dragons. Prestige, wealth, power; House Arryn has all of these in spades. They will make a fine ally for us, dragons or no. Aegor and Aemma are only four years apart, and she is the elder. Considering her mother’s difficulties with childbirth, the older the better for her to marry and have children. As for the succession, neither us nor the Arryns or the Iron Throne are interested in a union. Heirs have wed before, it would be a simple matter to divide the inheritance between their children, and should they not have any or enough, Maegon and his children will be in line to inherit Maidenpool,” Jonah answered, countering all her points.
She found herself irked by how logical it was beginning to sound. Jonah took the opportunity to strike then. “Saera, you told me that everything you did is for our sons and to further their interests. Your loyalty is to House Mooton and everything you do should be for our house first and foremost. Does holding onto this grudge against Daella help you with any of that? Or does it do the opposite?”
Saera refused to answer that. Her reluctance must have showed on her face because Jonah continued. “You don’t need to be friends with Daella, you don’t need to love her or be kind to her, but this feud between you two has to end. This alliance will die in the cradle if Daella poisons her daughter against our son because of her hatred of you. Make peace with her, apologize if you must. do not endanger this alliance. Back me in my dealings with the Arryns and I will back you in yours with the Velaryons. Do we have an agreement?”
She hesitated.
“Do we have an agreement Saera?” Jonah pressed further.
“Yes, we do,” she said begrudgingly as she looked over to Maegon. The things I do for love.
___________________________________________________
The Guard
Princess Saera was quite different from his lady. The two were sisters and he had heard that once they had been quite alike, but he struggled to believe it. In his own experience, Princess Viserra was nothing but kind, gracious, and strong. A capable and elegant leader and a fine lady for their house.
Her sister however was well… he would be honest; he didn’t like her at all. She was haughty, and arrogant, and while she was polite to him, she just did not rub him the right way. Was it simply in the nature of Targaryens to be unbearably arrogant? Even his lady was as well, though her arrogance was endearing rather than irritating.
No matter, he shook his thoughts of Princess Saera away. His mission was almost complete now and he need not think of her any longer. The letter she had given him was tucked away safely in his pocket and would not leave his person until he had personally delivered it to either Lord Corlys or Princess Viserra. He hadn’t read it of course. The seal remained unbroken. He was sworn to keep House Velaryon’s secrets if told to him or he overheard them, not go out of his way to learn them. It was none of his business, though he could certainly guess at its contents.
Maybe the dealings between Princess Saera and his lord and lady could help Driftmark, he thought as his ship moored at the dock in Pentos. How he wished he could return home, but his mission required the utmost secrecy, and a detour to Driftmark was unnecessary. Duty came before desire. Loyalty trumped all lesser and unworthy feelings.
Still, it gladdened his heart nonetheless, to see a ship bearing Driftmark flags moored in the harbor. He had booked passage on an ordinary trade ship from Maidenpool to reach Pentos but Lord Corlys would forgive him a little detour before he chartered another ship to reach Tyrosh wouldn’t he?
Unable to resist the chance to speak to some fellow countrymen from Driftmark, he approached the ship. As he reached, one of the sailors standing guard asked him to introduce himself.
He told him his name. “I’m from Driftmark as well. I saw the standards you’re flying and couldn’t resist coming to see the ship,” he told the sailor.
“Aye. Driftmark flags can be a rare sight these days I know. Too many people are hiding theirs to avoid any problems. Still my crew and I will fly the standards of Driftmark with pride, no matter what. House Velaryon has done so much for us, even now they bleed their own fortune to make sure small merchants like me still have a livelihood.”
“You’re the captain of this fine vessel?” He was not flattering; it was a fine merchant carrack indeed.
The newly identified captain smirked. “That I am,” he said before his smirk faded. “I used to have two more ships like this as well. Damn Jaehaerys. Wise conciliator my arse, he’s just a tyrant. I hope our lord and lady give him a right old knocking.”
Rather treasonous words for the captain to say, but he was certainly not going to expose him. Here in this foreign city, few would care about the words of a petty ship captain anyway.
“What tidings have you of home kinsmen? I have not returned in some months, since before the sanctions actually. How fares Driftmark?”
The captain was downcast. “Not well I will admit. Spicetown has hardly any spices left in it anymore. Makes sense after Velos was lost I guess but still… it just doesn’t feel right you know? Every time I go back to Driftmark, I feel wont to cry. Jaehaerys has torn out Driftmark’s heart, and its lifeblood is ebbing away. The Velaryons are doing their best, but not even they can stop the decline forever.”
“Will that shake your faith in them?” he asked, carefully. It would be useful information to report back to his liege what the common men of Driftmark thought.
“Heavens no. The Velaryons have never steered us wrong before. All of this is the Targaryens’ fault, not theirs. Driftmark men fought and bled to bring old Jaehaerys the Stepstones, our lady destroyed the damn Dornish by herself, our fleet held the islands in his name, and what did the King do? He slighted us all with his dishonorable betrayal! A pox on him! Our good lord was only doing what he had to, to protect Driftmark and House Velaryon. That the Targaryens would prove to be such tyrants is not his fault at all.”
“Does everyone on Driftmark think the same as you?” he asked.
“No,” the captain said, a bit of shame in his face. “I know there are some whose faith in the Velaryons has been shaken back home. I will admit I can see why, especially with Ser Rhaekar dead now, may his soul rest in peace in the seven heavens.”
His mood darkened. His and his brothers’ failure to save Ser Rhaekar still weighed on him heavily. It was their greatest shame and he was disgusted in himself for letting it happen under his watch. Ser Rhaekar had been a good man, gracious and affable. Before Princess Viserra had come, and when Lord Corlys had been away on his voyages, it had been Ser Rhaekar whom he had known best of the Velaryons, and now that good man was dead, his wife widowed, and his children orphaned.
“Still, it’s not like the King will suddenly forgive us lowborn for turning on our liege will he? Driftmark will still continue to be punished.” The captain continued, unaware of his dark thoughts. “No we keep our honor and our loyalty to House Velaryon. It is because of House Velaryon, and because of Lord Corlys especially, that we even had the prosperity for Jaehaerys to take away.
“You might be a bit young to remember this lad, but Driftmark was all but ruined by the Shivers. It was the Velaryons who rebuilt the island and made it into the best damn land in Westeros. Some of us might have our misgivings, our worries, but I can promise you this; even now anyone who dares to speak ill of House Velaryon on Driftmark will get a black eye.
“I for one will never lose faith in the Sea Snake. I had the honor of accompanying him on one of his voyages. Any man who can lead his entire fleet through the worst storm I’ve ever seen without losing a single ship has my trust to weather this storm. And I am sure that our princess will keep him safe throughout it all with that dragon of hers. If you won’t bet on our lord and lady lad, bet on the Blue Queen.
“Mark my words, there will be a reckoning for the Targaryens one day. House Velaryon will rise once again. We will rise again. The Old, the True, the Brave!” the captain finished, proudly reciting the words of House Velaryon.
“The Old, the True, the Brave,” he could not resist chorusing. “I look forward to that day eagerly my friend. The second rise of House Velaryon will be a glorious sight to see.”
“That it will be,” the captain agreed firmly. “I just hope I’ll still be around to see it. I mean, I’m not exactly young,” he said in jest, gesturing to himself.
“If you don’t mind my asking, where is your next destination?”
“Tyrosh. Seems like everyone’s destination nowadays if you come from Driftmark to be honest. Lord Corlys is encouraging all ships and merchants to base ourselves in Tyrosh to avoid Jaehaerys’ damn sanctions. I hear plenty of companies will be moving, some say the bank and the university might even relocate as well.”
“Truly?” he asked.
“The headquarters at least. Why leave them at Jaehaerys’ mercy on Driftmark when they could be free and independent in Tyrosh? The people will follow too and Driftmark will diminish. Just the way things work I guess but it does feel sad nonetheless.”
Despite himself, he put his hand on the captain’s shoulder. “I’m sure our lord and lady do not intend to abandon Driftmark. Once Tyrosh is rebuilt under their guidance, they can restore Driftmark with the funds from it.”
The captain nodded. “Aye. I hope so. Do you need passage to Tyrosh then? Since you asked.”
“That would be wonderful. Thank you.”
“It’s my pleasure to help out a kinsman,” the captain reassured him. “Go get your things onboard, we can settle the fees later.”
__________________________________________________
Fourth Moon, 91 AC
Two weeks later, the carrack sailed into the harbor of Tyrosh. He looked at the Bleeding Tower warily as they passed it, well aware of his lord and lady’s distrust of its warden. Once they had docked, he thanked the captain for his passage once again before he made his way to the Black Fortress.
Dressed nondescriptly as he was, he could not so easily walk into the Black Fortress, especially not with the new security measures after Ser Rhaekar’s assassination. He removed his silver seahorse medallion from where it was safely ensconced in his pocket and the guards at the gate immediately let him in.
He frowned. While it was convenient, he would not put it past the Towers or Dyes or any other damnable assassins to kill a Tide Guard and steal the medallion to bypass the other guards. He would have to raise the matter with his brothers and their lieges later. Still, that could wait. He had a more pressing task.
Before he reported to his lord and lady, he went to his barracks and dressed himself in his uniform once more. It had been several weeks since he had worn the ocean-blue plate and sea-green cloak. It felt good to don the guise of a true Tide Guard once more. No more skulking in the shadows for him. While he was proud to serve House Velaryon in any way they saw fit, becoming a Tide Guard had always been the highest calling and greatest accomplishment of his life.
As a young orphaned lad on Driftmark, he’d had nothing. His ma and pa had always taught him that good honest men did not steal, but orphans had no other way to eat. Torn between his hunger and his love for his parents, he’d resisted as long as he could. He had been on the brink of starvation when he’d seen it in the market. A stall full of oranges, his favorite fruit. Wanting to have one last meal with a favorite food before he died, he’d succumbed to the temptation and stolen a few oranges from the stall. The Spicetown Watch had caught him before he made it half a street. It was the end for him, he remembered thinking. He would lose his hand and be thrown out into the streets to die as a cripple.
Instead, House Velaryon had been merciful, House Velaryon had been generous, House Velaryon had taken him in. They had sent him to Breezehome Orphanage, and he later discovered that the matron there was the Sea Snake’s own aunt. Lady Laena had been like a second mother to him, or an older sister. She had teased him endlessly for his love of oranges, calling him ‘orange boy’, but he had been too grateful to even care about the teasing.
The Velaryons had taken him in when was alone in the world. They had clothed, sheltered, and fed him. They had taken him from the gutter and paid for him to have an education out of their own pocket and raised him. Their generosity and care for him had fueled his devotion and loyalty, and with it his ambition, his drive to become the best he could be.
He had taken up arms training and driven himself to be the finest soldier possible, all in the hopes of becoming a member of the revered Tide Guard. The most honorable and envied soldiers on Driftmark; trusted with House Velaryon’s own protection and secrets.
Sometimes he wondered if Lady Laena had recommended him to her nephew because he was still astounded he had made Tide Guard when he wasn’t even twenty and two. Lord Corlys and Lady Laena had seen something in him, a lowly orphan boy, and so he was determined to work even harder to meet their expectations and prove he was worthy of their generosity and esteem.
It was part of why he felt such shame. He claimed to be devoted to House Velaryon, dared to feel pride wearing the armor of a Tide Guard, and yet he had allowed Ser Rhaekar to die on his watch, in his very arms. It would forever be a black mark on his soul, a stain on his honor.
Even now he was haunted by the memory of Princess Viserra’s tears and Lord Corlys’s agonized screams as they had mourned their dead brother. He had never felt such shame and guilt in his life. He had begged Lord Corlys to command him to fall on his sword, ashamed and unwilling to live anymore, but his lord had pulled him to his feet and demanded he continue to serve, and it was then that he had given him his mission to carry his words to the Princess Saera.
Now he returned to his lord and lady, having succeeded for once, and he prayed that he might regain some favor in their eyes. He knew nothing could ever redeem his failure but he hoped this success might gladden his lieges’ hearts.
He found them in the solar after speaking to his brothers, hard at work on some task or another, papers strewn across the room that were none of his business unless they made it so. It was worse now than it was before he thought, seeing how tired they both looked.
Even before Ser Rhaekar had died, the Tide Guard had been growing worried that their lord and lady were not resting enough and were exhausting themselves. Now with Ser Rhaekar and his capable stewardship gone, it was even more pronounced, and he did not imagine grief made it any better.
He had read the Iliad in his youth and when he had met Princess Viserra for the very first time, he had been awestruck by her great beauty. She had been a vision, Helen of Troy come to life, out of the pages of the book. Yet even Helen’s beauty might be diminished by grief and exhaustion.
The Tide Guard saw dark bags under the Princess’s eyes, though she had done her best to hide them with her powder. She was not alone, his lord had new wrinkles on his face that hadn’t been there when he’d seen him last.
“Ser Jaremy,” the Princess called out his name, recognizing him. His heart soared, like it did every other time. That feeling of acknowledgement, that your liege knew who you were by name, it was intoxicating. It was a credit to the Princess and Lord Corlys that they knew the name of each and every member of their Tide Guard. All two hundred and twelve of them.
He was also aware that they did their best to know the names of as many of their staff as they could apart from their most trusted guards, and they would often ask after their wellbeing and their families. Little things like this, things he was sure no other noble in Westeros would do, reaffirmed his loyalty to this family, to this house.
There before him sat a true king and queen, Jaremy thought. A man and woman worth serving to his dying breath. Even now they were pushing themselves tirelessly for the sake of their people and their house, even in the midst of their grief. Few would have begrudged them their rest in light of their loss, but both had known that their house and their people could not wait. They had thrust themselves into their duties ceaselessly regardless of their pain. How could he not do the same?
Jaremy swore to himself once more that he would not fail them again. No Velaryon would die under his watch ever again. It was more sacred and important now more than ever with the little lords Jacaerys and Lucerys residing with their parents in this very fortress.
They could notfail. They had to be better. More skilled than ever, more paranoid, more cautious, more protective than ever before. What happened to Ser Rhaekar must never happen again. If it did, the Tide Guard might as well all commit suicide in shame, Jaremy knew he would.
His lord and lady were looking at him expectantly, realizing he had become lost in his thoughts, Jaremy bowed deeply. “Your Excellency, Princess Viserra. I come bearing Princess Saera’s reply to your missive.”
“Well done Orange,” his lord and archon said proudly.
Jaremy straightened in pride hearing the familiar nickname from his liege. What had once been a childhood jape teasing him for his love of oranges had long since become a badge of honor given to him by his lord. Orange was the name of his loyalty!
As he was dismissed from their presence and left the solar, Jaremy swore his oaths as a Tide Guard all over again in his head. He was Jaremy of the Tide Guard, Orange Knight, and he would protect the Velaryons and follow them to whatever end. And if that led him to his death? So be it. It would be his pleasure and his honor to die for House Velaryon.
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Author’s Note: Taking a bit of a break from Viserra again I know but we will be back to her next chapter. In the meantime, I hope you guys liked this chapter and this continuation of Saera’s story and her political moves. I did promise you that she wasn’t going to blindly follow Jaehaerys! Also let me know what you all think of our loyal Tide Guard and his POV! I wonder if anyone caught the reference.
Comments
Tertius711
Oh damn. Thx for reminding me. I forgot to unlock the next chapters for the lower tiers. Will do so now
omasan harriman
chapter 30 isn't open yet
Tertius711
City Charters come with trade privileges, the right to guaranteed property, tax relief and concessions, and so on. In general they encourage mercantilism and economic growth. Here's some links to check out if you want more details! https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Town_privileges https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Municipal_charter
alika maisuradze
Hi this is Seiryu from AH. I don't understand What does the City Charter give that it immediately brings "Fabulous profit"??
