-Chapter 133-

-Chapter 133-

-POV Johanna Swann-

"You took your time. I almost fell asleep," said Aemon as he saw me enter the private salon where I received my distinguished guests.

I smiled and replied as I continued to approach him:

"Was the wait worth it?"

"Always, for such a beautiful lady," he said, standing up and taking the hand I offered to him to kiss lightly. Then he turned to the boy accompanying him and gently pulled him forward by the shoulders.

Seeing his raven-black hair and violet eyes, I instantly knew who he was.

"Do you recognize him?" he asked me.

I wasn't listening anymore, as I had knelt down to my son's height.

I cupped his cheeks in my hands, trying hard not to let my tears fall under the overwhelming emotion of the moment.

"My son," I murmured, brushing away a few strands of hair covering his face.

He turned, confused, first to his older brother and then back to me, asking, visibly uneasy with my sudden closeness:

"You're my mother?"

'To him, I'm just a stranger,' I thought, fully understanding his discomfort.

I nodded, and he almost immediately responded, his tone barely able to mask the resentment he felt toward me:

"Why did you abandon me?"

'He must have been mocked as a bastard all his life,' I thought, empathizing with his resentment toward me.

"I am truly sorry, my son. I had no choice. I would have given anything to raise you, but I was a prisoner…"

"I'll leave you two. Could you ask one of your servants to show me around?" Aemon interrupted, giving me some privacy.

"Evelyn, give the Prince a tour and ensure all his questions are answered," I said, nodding in gratitude that he allowed me this time with my son instead of pressing me about urgent matters we needed to discuss.

"This way, my Prince," Evelyn said.

"See you later," Aemon said as he turned to follow Evelyn.

"Come, sit down. We have much to talk about, Baelon," I said, offering him a seat beside me on my chair.

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-POV Aemon Targaryen-

'It's truly magnificent,' I thought as I observed the House of the Black Swan.

"You're originally from Westeros, aren't you?" I asked Johanna's lady-in-waiting.

"That's correct, my Prince," the young woman replied.

'Ravishing beauty, like all the young women working here,' I thought, observing the gardeners, servants, and companions.

'Not to mention the courtesans,' I thought, noticing a few women watching me from a balcony as though I were a delectable piece of meat.

'They have a keen nose,' I mused, sensing all eyes were on me.

'They don't know who I am, but they all sense that I'm more important than anyone else who has entered this place,' I thought, finding the House of the Black Swan far different from what I had imagined.

"It's a pleasure house on an entirely different level."

"We are not a pleasure house," Evelyn immediately retorted.

Despite the abruptness of her response, she maintained perfect composure to avoid sounding inappropriate.

"My apologies if I offended you," I said, unaffected by her remark, as I continued to idly observe my surroundings.

'I could create something like this in Westeros,' I thought.

"You didn't offend me," Evelyn replied, then added, "The House of the Black Swan does not employ prostitutes. You won't see any man behaving inappropriately in public."

"And in private?" I asked, cutting her off mid-sentence.

Evelyn stopped abruptly, turned to face me, and said, staring directly into my eyes:

"Every swan has the right to a private life. No swan is paid for sleeping with someone. We do not provide that kind of service."

"Very well. Then how does Johanna manage to maintain this lifestyle while supporting all the swans in this establishment?" I asked.

"The swans use every charm at their disposal to captivate men, but…"

"They don't sleep with them," I finished for her, then added, "But you don't stop your swans from enjoying themselves with whomever they wish, gaining information, favors, or leveraging their relationships."

Evelyn said nothing more, confirming that I had hit the mark.

'It's rather ingenious,' I thought, admiring how Johanna navigated Lys's treacherous waters, rife with influential families and Magisters, without making enemies.

"Not bad at all," I finally said.

"We've arrived. Behind this door is the man you sent as a messenger," Evelyn informed me.

As I reached for the door handle, I asked casually:

"Did he approach any of your swans?"

Caught off guard by the question, she looked at me wide-eyed before finally shaking her head.

I nodded and said, "Thank you for guiding me."

"It was a pleasure, my Prince," she said, bowing deeply.

I entered the room to find Ser Willem standing straight as a rod, his hands clasped behind his back.

As soon as he saw me, he gave a slight bow and said:

"My Prince."

I closed the door behind me and observed him for a moment.

He seemed tense but resolute.

'It's true I trained him like all the Bronze Shields. Initially, I intended for him to hold a high rank in my order of knights,' I thought.

"You have completed your mission, Willem," I declared, pausing briefly before adding in a solemn tone:

"I will fulfill the promise I made to you before your departure."

His eyes widened in surprise.

"You're serious?!" he asked, disbelief written all over his face.

I rolled my eyes. I wasn't doing this out of generosity, but because it was the best course of action to solve several of my problems.

'By acting as my messenger, he untangled a delicate situation I had gotten myself into.'

'Thanks to him, I secure the Stepstones, establish myself in Lys, gain Baelon, and perhaps even another dragon. Most importantly… my mother.'

I took a deep breath, feeling a sense of satisfaction.

"I gave my word. From now on, you are officially part of the Bronze Shields," I said, pulling an object from an embroidered pocket in my doublet.

Willem looked at the object, intrigued, as I tossed it to him.

Once he realized what it was, he looked back at me, even more bewildered.

"You're sure?" he asked hesitantly.

I narrowed my eyes slightly and replied coldly:

"If you betray me, I'll have you beheaded. Make no mistake… Commander."

His eyes widened further at the title, fully grasping the weight of what I had just done.

I sat down in a chair, closed my eyes, and crossed my arms, leaving Willem to process the fact that I had just appointed him as the Commander of the Bronze Lances.