Chapter 51: Doubts and Basilisks

Fifth Moon, 114 AC

Gael

Daemon was off somewhere in the city, no doubt indulging in yet another day of revelry and celebration with his men now that he had finally been reinstated to his post as Commander of the Watch. She was happy for him.

Her husband's reinstatement was a result of her efforts. She had been working hard to convince Aemon for years and it had finally borne fruit after she had pointed out how well behaved Daemon had been with regards to the Velaryons in the past few years. He hadn't even caused any trouble at the wedding like many had expected. Trouble had come elsewhere.

Gael's eyes turned to her nephew Aegon in the training yard. Her son Jaehaerys was sparring with him, clearly outmatched by his mentor but learning quickly as Aegon shouted out encouraging pointers and hammered in criticisms with the blunt edge of his training sword. It reminded her very much of when Aegon had been in her son's position and her husband had beat him up in the training yard before imparting his knowledge. Tough love, but it had very much worked, Aegon was a fine warrior now.

Not quite good enough to beat Jacaerys Velaryon, she thought with mixed feelings. On one hand, Jacaerys was her daughter's husband and she had been very happy for her when he had crowned her. Begrudgingly Gael would concede that Viserra's son seemed to know how to treat her daughter right.

Another part of her though would have greatly enjoyed watching Jacaerys get his comeuppance and the stupid smug smirk wiped off his face. Alas, 'twas not meant to be. To be fair to Aegon, Jacaerys was five years his senior and he had been training very hard since their match in the joust's finals. He hoped to beat Jacaerys the next time they dueled and Gael was certainly supportive of this ambition.

As was her youngest daughter. From the corner of her eye, Gael saw Helaena standing a few feet away from her, excitedly cheering on Jaehaerys while trying to pretend she wasn't really here to watch Aegon. It was a regular pastime of hers.

Gael smiled. With luck and a little maneuvering, perhaps her daughter's love might be fulfilled. Her eldest daughters had been forcibly married into a house she despised against her will, but Gael still had Helaena and she would do right by her, no matter what.

After defeating him in yet another bout, Aegon gave Jaehaerys a short water break. Helaena made to approach him but her younger brother hurriedly rushed to her and began talking her ears off. Her sweet boy thought his sister had come to see him. Well he wasn't wholly wrong but Gael knew that was not Helaena's primary motive.

Still it suited her own purposes just fine. In place of her daughter, Gael walked up to Aegon. She spoke up as he took a large gulp from his canteen. "I believe I've said this before, but you're a fine mentor for Jaehaerys."

"Your praise never gets old Aunt Gael. Thank you. I'm still grateful that Uncle Daemon and you trusted me to be Jae's mentor. Everything I teach to him are just all the things Uncle Daemon taught me, my way of paying him back."

"He trusts you, he loves you," Gael said. Daemon had told her once that Aegon was like another son to him.

"And I do him. I'm happy that he's regained his position in the Watch."

"As am I. I would like to thank you for your help there as well actually. Your vouching for him alongside your father's helped us restore him to his rightful place," Gael said sincerely.

"No thanks needed for that aunt. I was just doing right by my uncle," Aegon said with a bright smile. He looked over to where her son and daughter were speaking and sighed. "Jae's break has been a little too long. You best be saying what you came here for before I drag him back into the yard."

"Oh? And what makes you think I have anything more to say in particular?"

"I know you Aunt Gael. I can see it in your eyes. Go on, say it."

"Very well then. I will be frank, what are your opinions on the Velaryons' latest adventure in the Basilisk Isles."

Aegon scoffed. "Seriously? That's what you're asking?"

"Why can't I?" Gael asked, faking her confusion.

"What makes you think I have an opinion on that? Or that it matters?" he challenged with a wary look in his eyes.

Gael simply raised an eyebrow. "You are the second in line to the Iron Throne Aegon. Are you honestly telling me you do not have an opinion on this? Or that it does not matter? Do you honestly have no thoughts on the Velaryons expanding their power yet again? Of Jacaerys Velaryon growing stronger and following in the footsteps of his parents to grow his power like a hungry lion, never satisfied and never content?"

"Of course I do, but why does it matter to you? Ask your real question Aunt Gael. Let's stop playing around."

Gael was as proud of her nephew as she was exasperated by him. "Your nameday is tomorrow. Your twentieth nameday."

Aegon chuckled darkly. "So that's what this is all about."

Gael ignored his snark and pressed onward. "I'd like to ask you, on behalf of not just myself, but the family as a whole, to postpone your ultimatum to your mother."

Aegon lost his temper then. "Why?" he demanded in a furious whisper. "What makes you think you have the right to ask this of me? I love you dearly Aunt Gael, and Uncle Daemon as well, but I have not forgotten nor have I forgiven that you are the primary reasons that I was not able to marry the woman I loved years ago, that I still can't marry her. And now you have the gall to ask me to not marry her at all? You're very forward with your request, I'll give you that."

"Calm yourself Aegon," Gael said with some steel. He was normally so level-headed but Laena Velaryon made him lose his reason, it was quite concerning. "I did not say you cannot marry her. I asked you to wait. You've waited so long already, what's one more year?"

Aegon was still angry so she continued. "Be honest with yourself Aegon. You do not trust the Velaryons, the only ones you trust are your beloved and your best friend. You dislike their brothers and mistrust their parents.

"This is the third time in as many decades that the Velaryons are expanding their territory. All the while too they have been growing their alliance in Westeros, undermining our loyal vassals and kin in the process. They are ambitious and opportunistic. Never content and never satisfied. They always crave more, more lands, more wealth, more concessions, more power.

"Is that truly a house you want as your goodfamily? Are you so certain that Laena and Daeron Velaryon will not abuse their relationship with you to continue aiding and abetting their family's misdeeds? Are you sure that you want a Queen and Hand whose loyalties will always be divided between you and the parents and brothers you mistrust?

"What have they told you of their brothers' adventures in the Basilisk Isles hmm? Have they been evasive? Have they tried to downplay it as just a campaign to exterminate corsairs? Tried to convince you that maybe, their house annexing the islands could benefit our family as well? Disguised their naked grab for more power and influence behind a more pleasant veneer?"

The uncertain look in her nephew's pale lilac eyes, told her all that she needed to know. "I think I didn't really need to say this at all, Aegon. Deep down in your heart, you knew it as well. Your ultimatum hinges on the support of your grandfathers and even they have now grown wary of the Velaryons' motives. For the sake of the family Aegon, let it rest. Give your love time to prove herself to you, for her family to prove us all wrong, that they are not the ambitious and power hungry warmongers we fear them to be."

"What you really want is for me to marry Helaena," her nephew said stubbornly, trying to hide just how much her words had shaken him to the core but Gael would not be fooled.

"I do," Gael admitted openly. She had nothing to hide from her beloved nephew unlike some. "I want nothing more than for her to be your wife, not just because it will make her queen, but because it will make her happy. She loves you, she adores you. She is Targaryen to the bone and has no split loyalties. You will never have to look over your shoulder with Helaena, never have to worry that she has an ulterior motive, that she is seeking to manipulate you in favor of another house."

"Helaena and you both have split loyalties Aunt Gael. Or have you so easily forgotten my cousins? Your own eldest daughters are married to Jacaerys and Lucerys. Even now they aid their husbands in the warmongering you describe."

Gael's heart broke at the reminder of her eldest daughters, so young and gone from her side so soon. Both of them still wrote to her and were very much still her loving daughters, but the fear had never left her. She still remembered what that harpy Viserra had said. Gael dreaded the day her daughters drifted away from her and she knew deep down that there was little she could do about it.

"I know. And I am saddened by that. But even so, Baela and Rhaena have their own split loyalties, it will affect Helaena much less than you think. Especially because the rest of Helaena's family is still here, with us, and that's where her loyalties lie. As do mine.

"Can you really say the same about Laena Velaryon? She risks estranging herself from the entirety of her family save maybe her younger brother Daeron if she truly devotes herself to you. I will give Laena credit, she is a very filial woman, dedicated to her house and dutiful and loving to her parents and brothers. But that virtue also makes her a horrible choice for your bride. You need a Targaryen queen, not a Velaryon who has taken the trappings of one without truly changing in her heart.

Aegon still looked angry so Gael backed down. She had a feeling pressing any further would undo any of the work she had done today. She had sown the seed, or perhaps watered what had already been there for years. Now she just had to hope it bloomed.

"We've tarried too long. I'm sorry for taking up so much of your time nephew. You and Jae best be getting back to training now. Just… just think about it," Gael said before she walked off back to where Helaena stood and ordered her son into the yard for another bout with Aegon.

Credit to his abilities, Aegon seemed completely unfazed by her words as he continued training Jaehaerys. Gael could only tell that he was troubled by them because she knew him so well. She was proud that he was professional and mature enough to not let his own worries affect his lessons with her son.

Under his watchful gaze, Jaehaerys improved by leaps and bounds. He would be a fine warrior one day, just like his cousin and father. Maybe he might even be Hand as well, but Gael decided to not get ahead of herself. Her boy was only three and ten, barely a teenager. There was still time yet.

Eventually, the Velaryons in question arrived in the yard. They had tarried in King's Landing ever since the wedding. While their brothers had dragged her daughters into gallivanting on harebrained conquests and their parents had retired back to High Tide, Laena and Daeron Velaryon had remained, for the most part, in the capital, no doubt in eager anticipation of Aegon's promised ultimatum.

Gael narrowed her eyes as Aegon abruptly took a break from his lesson with Jaehaerys to greet them. Daeron and he clasped their arms and embraced in a fierce hug before Aegon swept Laena Velaryon into his arms and spun her lovingly before embracing longer than was proper for an unbetrothed young man and woman.

Laena Velaryon was the spitting image of her mother even if Gael could see some of her father in her height and face. The Pearl of Tyrosh they called her, or Driftmark's Delight if they wanted to rather unsubtly compare her to her niece Rhaenyra. At times Gael found it hard to refrain from despising her on principle, as the daughter of Viserra, the daughter of a woman she so loathed.

As she saw her daughter Helaena clenching her fists in jealousy and frustration at the sight of Laena in her beloved's embrace, she could not resist the deluge of hatred that emerged. It was not long before Helaena could take it no more and stormed away, trying desperately to hide her tears.

She sympathized with her daughter. She knew all too well what competing against Viserra and her ilk for the affection of someone she loved felt like. It was agonizing, and it made you feel so inadequate. You could do everything and you'd still never be enough.

But perhaps there was still hope after all, Gael thought triumphantly. She saw the hesitance in Aegon now that he was interacting with the Velaryon siblings again. The doubt and suspicion was obvious if you knew where to look. It seems her words had had an effect after all.

Aegon soon invited Daeron to help train her son but Gael was barely paying attention to it. She would have normally scrutinized Aegon for his decision and watched the Velaryon boy like a hawk but Gael's mind was elsewhere as Daeron and Jaehaerys lined up in the yard for a bout.

Their entire house was watching what the Velaryons were doing in the Basilisk Isles carefully. They had not openly declared their intention for the region, only vaguely making some statements about exterminating corsairs. Legally speaking, there was little they could do, the Velaryons were only using forces from Tyrosh and their eastern territories and because her brother recognized their independence and sovereignty in those domains, they could do with them as they pleased.

Yet the Velaryons reaching for yet more lands and power had displeased even those members of her family friendliest to them. And there was the opportunity that Gael had been waiting for. She turned and walked away from the yard. She would need to comfort her distraught daughter. And once that was settled, she would have to pay a visit to Rhaenys' quarters. The two of them had a lot to speak of.

__________________________________________

Eighth Moon, 114 AC

Baela

One did not grow up with Daemon Targaryen as a father without becoming somewhat knowledgeable in the ways of war. He was after all, a consummate warrior and an avid and aspiring commander who had led the Gold Cloaks of King's Landing for nine years and had finally been reinstated to his post at long last, a reward for his good behavior at her wedding supposedly.

Baela thought that if her father was here, he would be mightily impressed by the Velaryon military despite the hatred he bore for her husband who commanded it. They had left Tyrosh at the start of the new year and reached Viserria three moons later. There they had spent a number of weeks resupplying their forces and picking up reinforcements, time in which Baela had spent meeting Governors Lucerys and Aethan Velaryon of Velos and Viserria and touring their respective domains.

Once their second round of preparations were complete, they had set off from Viserria with a fleet of two hundred and fifty ships, carrying an embarked army that was 15,000 strong. The largest single force the Velaryon Army had ever mobilised ever since its official founding in Tyrosh twenty years ago. Their first landing had been at Ax Isle, where the black fort of Xandarro Xhore had fallen to them with ease and served as their foothold before they spread across the isles.

The massive and disciplined Velaryon Navy and Army tore through the corsairs of the Basilisk Isles like a hot knife through butter. The filthy rabble and pirate scum could not hope to stand before the steel and unshakeable pike squares of Tyrosh, and their ill-begotten ships could not match the might of the Velaryon Navy which ruled the waves. And everywhere the seahorse banner flew, one could look up and expect that a dragon would not be far behind.

They were a sight to see. Her husband was glorious and imposing atop his blue mount, burning through his foes with a powerful and dominating expression and ease that often had Baela crossing her legs and feeling hot. The men had already taken to calling Tessarion the Azure Princess, to go with her mother Dreamfyre, the Blue Queen.

Luke and Morghul were no less dangerous, with the sulfuric and volcanic black and yellow scales of Morghul making him particularly feared. The Yellow Death struck fear into the hearts of every corsair that laid eyes upon him. Even Rhaena grew accomplished alongside her dragon. The seemingly dainty Rhaena and her elegant pink dragon Morning were deceptively gentle, hiding a deadly and ruthless streak that would prove the end of many a corsair. Half as a jest and half as an honest compliment, some had named Morning the Pink Dread and Baela had found no end of amusement teasing Rhaena about it.

Baela found that she took to riding her own dragon in war like a fish to water. Her dragon might be smaller than Tessarion and Morghul but she was feisty and daring and her strength swelled with every battle, her muscles becoming stronger and tougher and her instincts sharpened. Befitting her name, her dragon danced in the skies in every battle and Baela was her conductor, her partner, her soul. In the heat of battle, she often did not know where she ended and Moondancer began, for they fought and flew as one.

Like she had dozens of times before in this campaign, Baela descended upon a pirate stronghold. This particular stronghold was known as Bonemarrow and it was the seat of the Brotherhood of Bones. As if pirates had any sense of brotherhood and virtue, Baela scoffed. With an almost casual ease, she swerved through all the volleys of arrows that came her way, averting scorpion bolt storms as easily as she would a lazy punch from her sister.

"Dracarys," Baela whispered. Moondancer obeyed and a plume of fire emerged from her maw, pearlescent in its core and a pale green along the edges. It streaked across the distance and burned all in its path. Straw and wood turned to cinder, men to ash, and stones glowed hot. Moondancer was not yet of the age where she could melt stone as easily as Balerion had Harrenhal, but she did not have to be.

As she burned through the pirates, the reaving corsairs and slaving scum all of them, Baela did not feel a single trace of remorse. She was cleansing the filth of the world after all and using only what was her birthright to do it. Why would she ever feel any guilt at all?

Instead she felt a sense of righteousness, an intoxicating feeling of power and self-satisfaction that she had brought justice upon the deserving filth. A feeling that only grew when she heard the cheers of the Velaryon soldiers that moved in to seize the stronghold. They were cheering for her.

The cheers only grew when she landed and greeted the soldiers. 'Lady Baela,' they hailed her, not princess. Some would call her princess still but she knew full well that it was not their preferred address for her. She had realized it in Tyrosh, a Lady of House Velaryon was more honored in the eyes of these men than a Princess of House Targaryen.

Knowing they expected her to speak, Baela called out to them. "Men of the Sixth Regiment! Today you have won a great victory for your house!"

There was a great cheer at her words but then one of the captains spoke up, Arys if she recalled correctly. "Not that I'm ungrateful for your praise my lady, but I think we can all agree that today's victory is yours!"

At that the men shouted their agreement. "Baela! Baela!" they shouted.

Baela smiled. "I thank you for your kind words, Captain. But if we are to take that route, then the victory is Moondancer's."

"But you are her rider my lady," he protested. "Without you to guide and command her, the battle would have been much more costly for us. Many of us owe you our lives, lives that would have been lost putting down the corsair scum. And for that you will always have our gratitude."

Baela conceded. "Oh very well then. Far be it from me to turn down such heartfelt gratitude."

Captain Arys nodded before standing ramrod straight and saluting. "The Old!" he cried.

"The True! The Brave!" the company chorused in response.

Baela smirked before she called out. "Velaryon!"

"AND VICTORY!" came the expected response.

"At ease. Captain Arys, I leave you in command of this fort and this island. I am expected back at Talon tonight so I must be leaving now. If you require anything from us Major, just send a courier over," Baela said, addressing the captain who had offered her praise and brevet promoting him to Major.

The major saluted again. As Baela turned to leave however, she heard him shout out again. "One last cheer for Princess Baela lads! For Zaldilaros!"

"Zaldilaros! Zaldilaros!"

Turning back, Baela saw all the soldiers with wide and bright smiles as they cheered and saluted her yet again, absolutely serious and committed to the honorific they had bestowed upon her. Lost for words, Baela bowed in acknowledgement to them before she mounted Moondancer and took to the skies.

Ever since she had married Jace, Baela had been addressed either as a Velaryon lady or a Targaryen princess. Zaldilaros meant something more than that. She had walked in the streets of Tyrosh and spoken with her people. She knew for herself the significance of the title of Zaldilaros. She knew what it represented, what it meant. Dragon princess, liberator, leader, holy one. In the Velaryon State, there was no greater honor than to be revered and worshipped as Zaldilaros.

It was a clear indicator that the soldiers of House Velaryon and by extent the people as a whole had come to see her as part of House Velaryon itself and so they would honor and obey her as such. It gave her mixed feelings.

 On one hand she was proud that she was so accepted already, that she was revered and obeyed as Jacaerys and Luke were. Just as the soldiers had come to see her as part of House Velaryon, in some measure so had Baela as well. It had simply been for show at first, to fit in. She had learned the words, the mindsets, the philosophies, and yet little by little she had grown to identify with them as well, to feel them, to believe them. And then rationalized it to herself that by marriage she was a Velaryon and so she had as much right to all of this

And yet… she was torn. She might be a Velaryon by marriage but by birth she was a Targaryen. The constant dilemma remained and Baela still had not found her answer. Could she honor both of her houses without betraying one or the other? Aunt Viserra might still claim the trappings and name of a Targaryen Princess but they all knew that she had long since fully assimilated into House Velaryon. She dressed, thought, and acted like a Velaryon in every way, with not the slightest care for House Targaryen's interests.

Her aunt's bad relationship with her parents might have allowed her to do that so easily but Baela still loved and adored her own parents. She eagerly wrote them and her younger siblings and even her cousins and aunts and uncles all. She felt as much a Targaryen as she did a Velaryon, if not more.

She shook herself out of her thoughts. She was not likely to find her answer today. Instead Baela breathed in the clean and fresh air. The Basilisk Isles were humid and musty on the ground but the air above them was clean and misty. A refreshing breeze gently blew past her shoulder-length hair as Moondancer soared through the skies.

The island of Talon came into view. It was claw-shaped, almost like the feet of a bird of prey, hence the name. Talon was the geographical center of the archipelago and it had been ruled by a corsair warlord by the name of Saathos Saan.

The self-styled 'King of the Basilisk Isles' had once been a Lyseni admiral that had fought in the war against Volantis. When House Velaryon had entered the war on Volantis' side however, Saathos Saan had fled to the Basilisk Isles with his entire fleet and many exiles from Lys where they had founded a prospering though filthy township on the island of Talon along a stretch of coastline known as Barter Beach where Saathos' followers and the neighboring corsairs traded amongst each other. And one of the most commonly traded commodities were slaves.

Baela remembered with pleasure how she and the others had freed every slave and burned every slaver and corsair they could find while their army mopped up the rest. The surviving corsairs had holed up in the honeycombed caverns on the island and fortified it. They had opted to starve them out instead of storming the caverns, sealing off the exits and letting them starve to death, killing any that managed to escape.

Talon had since become a headquarters of sort for their expedition, as they made use of the local already built infrastructure and expanded it for their own uses to house their soldiers and anchor their fleet. Baela idly wondered if Jacaerys meant to make it the permanent capital of the region and the seat of whatever cousin he and his father appointed as its governor.

It was already being used to store all of the ill-gotten treasures of the pirates as it was inventoried. Even after the men had been given their share, there was a tremendous amount left over for House Velaryon, gold, gemstones, silver, silks, spices, and more. There was even a Valyrian Steel sword that they had seized from Saan; Nightfall was its name.

With but a word, Moondancer descended into a clearing inside the main fort on the island where the other dragons had been stabled. Tessarion and Morghul were both snoring as they napped and Morning was meticulously grooming her scales. Baela cared not to chain Moondancer, knowing that she would not stray from her side tonight. She watched with a smile as Moondancer disturbed and teased Morning before she walked into the fort's main hall.

Almost out of nowhere, two Tide Guard filed in beside her silently. They were quite distressed by their inability to accompany them whenever they flew out on their dragons on their missions and made up for it by guarding them relentlessly when they could. It was endearing to Baela but also suffocating. She resisted the temptation to simply order them away, knowing that they would not obey that command. Sometimes she suspected that Jacaerys countermanded any orders she gave that he saw as compromising her safety.

And speak of the dragon and there he was. He smiled at her as he noticed her coming. He sat on the dais at the high table with her sister and goodbrother and many of their senior officers. Baela smiled back, choosing to ignore the pounding in her chest and the warmth in her soul as she did so.

Once she had washed up (and that was something the Velaryons took seriously, never eat without washing your hands), Baela took the seat on Jacaerys' left, as was her right.

"What held you up?" Luke inquired.

"There were some holdouts on the Isle of Flies," Baela replied. "The Brotherhood of Bones will need to change their name now if any still remain. I left naught but ashes of the ones I found."

Jacaerys and Luke shared a smirk. "Who did you leave in command?" Jacaerys asked.

"One Captain Arys of the Sixth Regiment. I made him Major for his command."

Jacaerys nodded and was about to speak more when Rhaena reprimanded them. "Honestly we've all been fighting the whole day. Why don't you give it a rest while we eat supper?"

Sheepish, Jacaerys heeded her sister's words. As most of their day had been spent fighting, and the others at the table were military officers, their small talk proved quite limited. Baela was interested to hear that letters had come from their family members back home with news of Westeros and Tyrosh.

Not much of note had really happened back home, save for one thing. Aegon's promised ultimatum had never materialized, his twentieth nameday had come and gone in Fifth Moon and he was still not betrothed, be it to either Laena or Helaena. Baela noticed that Rhaena looked thoughtful hearing that but both Luke and Jacaerys were displeased and brooding over what it could mean.

In any case, it was not like they could do anything to influence Laena's marriage half the world away in the Basilisk Isles. Wanting to drag her husband and goodbrother out of their brooding, Baela decided to speak of how the men of the Sixth Regiment had hailed her as Zaldilaros.

She told her tale a little hesitantly, afraid perhaps that Jacaerys and Lucerys might be angry that she was now being called by a title that only they and their mother and siblings used. To her pleasant surprise however, Jacaerys had no problems with it at all. Quite the contrary.

"It suits you well," he said with a warm smile.

Baela blushed. "I hope I haven't given any offense. I didn't ask for them to – "

Jacaerys cut her off. "You haven't. It's not an official title anyway, just an honorific the people have bestowed on us. By the most literal definition you more than fit the criteria of being Zaldilaros and even if we throw in all its symbolism and meaning as well, I dare say you are more than worthy of that as well, not just as my wife but also for your contributions to this campaign. The same goes for you Rhaena."

Jacaerys nodded happily as he continued. "This is a good sign. The both of you have been accepted as one of us by the army and navy, and where they go, the people will follow. It was the same with our mother as well. Any reservations House Velaryon's people still had with her vanished like the morning dew after the Battle of Bloodstone."

Baela's smile faded a little, not sure she liked the comparison to her aunt, the Butcher of Bloodstone, but she knew that Jacaerys had not meant anything ill from it. Given how much he adored his mother, he probably intended it to be a far more positive comparison than how Baela saw it. She wouldn't hold it against him.

"What shall we do now?" Baela asked. "It's been months already. Most of the corsairs have been cleared out and any stragglers will be hunted down by the fleet and the regiments. I'm not sure there's much more use for dragons here in the Basilisks."

"Not for dragons no, but for their riders yes. We will be staying here a little longer to make sure everything is ready for when the governor takes charge. We'll clear up any surviving corsairs whenever we find them but our main task will be seeing to the construction and repair of the islands' ports and forts and welcoming the first settlers," Jacaerys answered.

"Who is the governor anyway?" Rhaena asked.

"Luke and I spoke to our father a while back and we are in agreement that Cousin Rhogar will have the governorship."

"He's Aurane's first son right?" Baela inquired, the name was familiar.

"That's right," Luke said. "You met his second son Rhaekar in Tyrosh and the son after him, Malentine, is one of the admirals of the fleet that brought our troops here."

Ah, Baela remembered Malentine now. A blonde and blue-eyed young man, bearded and well-built, and supremely competent. He made history as the youngest to ever achieve the rank of Rear Admiral in the Velaryon Navy at the young age of nineteen, even if many whispered behind closed doors that he only got his rank due to being the nephew of Lord Corlys.

"Anyway Baela, if you are looking for things to do and the prospect of administrative work is boring, fret not. There's one last adventure that awaits us," Luke said suddenly.

"Oh? And what would that be?" Baela asked, raising her eyebrow.

Jacaerys spoke up. "There's one last major island in the archipelago of course. The Isle of Tears, just south of here. I've heard the corsairs dare not venture there. It's laid abandoned ever since the Red Death over a century ago."

"You speak of Gogossos," Baela observed.

Jacaerys nodded. "I've scouted it on Tessarion a few times. The island is completely devoid of human life. The city has been overgrown by the jungle but from what I can tell its infrastructure is mostly intact beneath the ruins. It will be very easy to rebuild, I hope to make it the capital of our governorate here, not Talon.

"I'll be leading an expedition there in about a week's time. Half a regiment at most, we don't need too many men to survey and explore the island and the rest are needed to garrison the other islands. There's likely a lot of treasure and relics, repositories of knowledge that date back to before the Doom. The opportunity is too good to pass up. It will be quite the fun adventure I think, all of you are welcome to come."

Luke spoke up immediately. "You know I'm coming brother, I said so already."

"Like I'm letting you go explore some ancient ruins without me Jacaerys," Baela said with a scoff.

Rhaena was a little concerned. She looked to each of them. "Are you three sure about this? Gogossos has an ill reputation. I am not sure we want to actually find anything in that city. Who knows what lies inside?"

Baela wore a mischievous grin as she teased her sister. "Scared of some monsters Rhaena? It's been over a hundred years; I think they'd be naught but ghosts by now.

"Even ghosts might prove to be more dangerous than we expect," Rhaena replied ominously.