-Chapter 135-

-Chapter 135-

-POV Aerthoreon Haen-

"You are a lucky man, my friend," said Tigaro Moraqos in a clearly envious tone before adding:

"To think that the Prince landed in your garden, giving you the opportunity to form a bond with the most feared dragonrider in the known world."

The smile on my face stiffened slightly, for even though I was the leader of our small faction, Tigaro Moraqos was a young and ambitious man.

He was ruthless and easily envious of the wealth and positions of others.

I kept my expression as natural as possible, replying humbly:

"I must admit that I am indeed fortunate, for not only did the Prince and I strike up a friendship, but I believe he is interested—or at least could be interested—in forming an alliance with us."

A glimmer lit up in Tigaro's eyes.

He immediately understood the message I was trying to convey.

He took a few seconds before nodding and turning to my son, patting him on the shoulder like an old man advising a younger one:

"You have much to learn from your father, Torreo."

I saw my son's jaw tighten slightly as he looked at the young man, barely 25 years old, treating him as if he were his junior.

'Control yourself, my son. Pride will get you nowhere,' I thought, watching his reaction closely.

Torreo smiled, then lowered his head slightly and said:

"I have never doubted my father's worth, Magistrate Moraqos."

"I like your son," said Tigaro before turning to converse with other nobles who were arriving.

"You handled that well, my son," I said, placing a hand on his shoulder.

'We must never attack directly. Our daggers must remain hidden behind our smiles,' I thought, reiterating the teachings of our family, passed down to me by my father, the previous head of our lineage, throughout my long education as heir.

"I understand why you made him our ally," said Torreo, though I could sense the lingering irritation in his voice.

'I still don't know if he is the right heir to carry out the policies that have brought us to where we are and ensured our survival for hundreds of years,' I thought.

"But..."

"But this man is too ambitious and arrogant," Torreo muttered, his brows furrowed.

'He doesn't understand yet,' I thought, slightly disappointed.

"Has the First Magister arrived?" I asked, changing the subject to avoid engaging in Torreo's discussion about Tigaro Moraqos.

"No," he replied, understanding that the topic was closed for the moment, as it was neither the time nor the place for such conversations amidst the crowd.

I frowned and asked:

"What is he doing? I clearly gave him the time to…"

"I think he will come after the Prince," said Torreo.

'Vaena,' I realized, looking at my son and quickly understanding where he had gotten his information.

"What a fool! If he dares to offend Prince Aemon by trying to show him who's in charge of this city, I assure you… I will completely eradicate the Aegoreon bloodline," I said softly, genuinely furious at the thought of severing ties with that family.

At that moment, the closed doors of the hall opened.

For a brief second, I hoped it was that idiot Dagaemor, but upon seeing the silhouette of Prince Aemon accompanied by the Black Swan, a deep sense of disappointment rose within me toward Dagaemor.

That feeling quickly spread as I noticed those accompanying the Prince.

"Father," said Torreo, snapping me out of my trance, before quickly adding: "Why is the Prince accompanied by the Bazanne and Rogare families?"

I didn't answer his question, as I didn't know the answer, and it wasn't important.

'What matters is pleasing the Prince and aligning our interests with his,' I thought.

I covered my face with my warmest smile before moving through the crowd of guests to personally welcome the Prince.

---

-POV Aemon Targaryen-

I slightly raised an eyebrow as I observed the number of people present, easily over a hundred.

Knowing that each of them represented either the family of a city noble, a powerful merchant prince, or a mercenary company, I suddenly reevaluated the weight of my name.

'But not all of them will be my allies. It wouldn't surprise me if among them were my enemies,' I thought, scanning the expressions of each person to spot the wolves lurking in the shadows.

"Your Excellency..."

"Aerthoreon, we've moved past the stage where we need to call each other by our titles," I said before adding: "To you, it's Aemon, my friend."

He nodded, and I did the same, returning the courtesy in front of the crowd that was watching us intently.

His gaze lingered for a fraction of a second on Johanna Swann before turning to the people she had invited.

Among them were influential figures such as Magister Bambarro Bazanne, the young captain of a fleet of six warships, Sharako Lohar, and Drakerio Rogare, accompanied by his two sons, Lysandro and Drazenko.

I smiled, then said:

"I apologize for not informing you, but I cannot refuse Johanna anything."

"It's no matter. We all know each other, and we are all very good friends. This way, please."

'Always so accommodating… This man is either a fool or a true serpent,' I thought as I followed closely behind.

As we moved through the crowd, Aerthoreon skillfully introduced the attendees, offering flattering remarks and polite pleasantries to every minor figure we encountered.

Each time, I responded with a simple nod, projecting the image of a magnanimous yet reserved prince.

Gradually, I realized that everyone present belonged to his faction.

'He is clever,' I thought, quickly recognizing his strategy to surround me with individuals loyal to him.

'But he's mistaken. I'm not interested in them. What I care about is the Council of the Eighteen Magisters,' I thought, though I continued to listen carefully.

After all, perhaps one of these people might prove useful to me in the future.

As I followed his explanations, a disturbance behind us caught my attention.

"Well, well, if it isn't that impetuous slave spawn," a sarcastic voice called out, cutting through the crowd.

"Hm, I thought I smelled something," retorted Sharako Lohar, one of the few attendees I had found no interest in. I knew he viewed me as a rival for Johanna's favor—an entirely trivial matter to me.

'These men have been swimming in wealth since birth. Their squabbles are as meaningless as their lives,' I thought, watching the two bristle at the sight of one another.

"This is Magister Tigaro Moraqos," Aerthoreon announced smoothly, expertly diffusing the tension.

"It is an honor to meet you, Your Excellency," said Tigaro, offering a slight bow.

I returned the gesture with a polite nod and replied with a smile:

"You seem quite young to hold such a position."

"And that is a quality we share," he said confidently.

My smile widened, amused by his quick wit, and I replied:

"It would seem so."

His boldness amused me, though I allowed nothing more than a neutral smile to show.