Chapter 219: The Secret Council

Daeron understood very well that the discussions in the public Great Council regarding the expedition were merely a formality. For the nobles troubled by succession disputes, it was hard to turn down an opportunity that could both solve their problems and bring great profit.

As for war—

Heh. Though the knightly nobility longed for peace and stability, when had they ever feared war?

What Daeron truly needed was the support of the great lords, especially House Vaelarys. He had discussed these matters with Prince Viserys before the Great Council, but the prince always seemed a bit too naïve.

He had actually wanted House Vaelarys to lead the expedition to the eastern continent, strongly opposing Daeron's decision to personally command the army, and was even reluctant to support the Targaryens sending dragonriders to the front.

Daeron could only chuckle and exclude his uncle from the final decisions. Unlike Viserys, his sons were highly interested in the Disputed Lands—except for Prince Aegon.

Aemon and Illyon were eager to make a name for themselves, and even young Maegon, who had just turned thirteen, showed great interest in the expedition and stood firmly by Daeron's side.

Daeron met with the lords he truly wanted to speak with beneath the heart tree at Harrenhal.

The young king scanned the gathered lords. These were the true key to the expedition. Prince Aemon stood at Daeron's side as his protector. Compared to Aemon, Daeron's Kingsguard seemed like paper figures, yet it wasn't feasible for Aemon to serve as a sworn shield. Still, his sense of duty compelled him to guard the king—alongside his dragon.

From the North came Lord Cregan Stark, accompanied by Lord Domeric Bolton and Lord Brandon Manderly, representing the North's most powerful lords and thirty thousand northern troops. After the long summer, the North had regained its strength. Though they lacked the wealthy equipment of southern knights, their ferocity left a lasting impression—especially on the Riverlanders and the Westermen, who still remembered the ferocious army of winter wolves.

From the West, Lord Loreon Lannister stood with his powerful bannermen, including the burly Blood Lion, Lord Harrold Reyne—a mighty lord recently risen to fame, known for both his martial skill and bold character. Around him gathered many younger sons of knights who admired him. Reyne had even formed a "Red Lion Order" in Castamere, with hundreds already enrolled. Also present was Lord Lorent Marbrand. These three Westermen were notably close with the Northerners, while they kept their distance from the leaders of the Iron Islands.

Dalton Greyjoy and Harras Harlaw quietly stood in a corner. But when the Red Kraken swept his gaze across the room, even the bold Blood Lion Harrold couldn't help but shiver. Only a few lords who had survived the Dance of the Dragons could face that sea monster without fear.

Lord Lyonel Tyrell had brought Lord Wendell Rowan. Lord Kermit Tully stood beside Lord Benjicot Blackwood and Lord Forrest Frey. Royce Baratheon, alongside Lord Roland Connington, remained close to Lord Kermit and far from the Dornish princes.

Prince Lucerys Martell and Prince Quentyn Dayne, on the other hand, showed no such hesitation. Dorne was already a barren and narrow land with a sparse population. Now, its more populated regions had been occupied by the borderlands, leaving Dorne with even fewer troops. Despite their full efforts, the two princes could muster no more than ten thousand troops fit for deployment.

Lord Joffrey Velaryon conversed pleasantly with Lord Hugh Arryn and Lord Artis Royce.

But the most distinguished among the crowd were Dan and Jacaerys, whose status was second to none.

Daeron looked around at the gathered lords, then handed the Blackfyre sword at his waist to Prince Aemon. Picking up a branch from the weirwood, he began sketching on the ground.

"My lords, I believe you all understand the dire situation our kingdom faces," Daeron said as he drew a circle in the dirt. "Just like the words of House Stark."

He looked at Lord Cregan. "Winter is coming. The Long Summer is not a certainty, and the balance my father struggled to maintain never truly solved our problems."

He marked several lines across the circle.

The lords understood what Daeron meant. The kingdom's internal interests had been nearly fully divided, and the royal treasury could no longer afford to keep more and more second sons, third sons, and young sons content.

These nobles-by-birth, hungry for land, would eventually become a threat to the realm. The quickest way to ease this tension and bring profit to the realm—was war.

A war against the rich lands of the eastern continent.

"My lords, the outcome of the council vote was clear," Daeron sighed. "None of us can resist such easily won profits. Compared to the eastern continent, our advantages are obvious. Among the powers vying for the Disputed Lands, Lys has already submitted to us, Tyrosh is under our rule, Myr is gravely weakened, and the only force that could rival us is Volantis—hmph."

Daeron snorted disdainfully. "We have dragons."

But Volantis has never extinguished its ambition for dragons, Dan thought to himself, though his expression remained calm as he listened to Daeron's words.

"Volantis claims to have five hundred thousand Tiger Cloaks, but in truth, few of them are capable fighters. Years of peace have made them complacent. Now, they rely more on the slave armies from Slaver's Bay and Dothraki mercenaries."

Daeron drew several Xs on the ground. "Dragons will destroy any who try to stand in our way. What I need, my lords, is your commitment."

The young king's gaze suddenly turned cold.

With the vote passed, the nobles could not refuse to send troops.

There was only one question left.

"How many men can you bring?"