Chapter 20: The King of the Stepstones Archipelago  

In the distance, Rhaegar observed the arena, catching sight of the dragonrider. 

The man bore the hallmark features of House Targaryen: silvery-golden hair and violet eyes akin to amethysts. 

Upon closer inspection, his face was cold and stern, with a high-bridged nose and a defiant gaze that mirrored the imposing demeanor of the dragon beneath him. 

Rhaegar had already heard whispers among the crowd and knew who he was. 

It was his uncle, Daemon Targaryen. 

A rogue prince who dared to traverse the continent on dragonback in his youth, leading his followers in campaigns against outlaws. 

It was said that his exploits were so legendary that some had written books about him. 

"Look! A dragon—a real, living dragon! It's so huge!" 

Rhaegar, driven by the excitement of a child, cared little about who his uncle was. His eyes were fixed entirely on the terrifying, crimson-scaled beast. 

Tugging eagerly at the hand of Ser Erryk, Rhaegar exclaimed with delight, "Someday, I'll ride a dragon just as mighty!" 

"No! Even mightier and more majestic! This one's too skinny!" 

The young boy spoke his thoughts openly and without reservation. 

Ser Erryk, on the other hand, was far too focused on ensuring the prince's safety. With his hand tightly gripping the hilt of his sword, he scanned the surroundings cautiously, ready to intervene should anyone in the crowd rush toward the prince in panic. 

--- 

Within the arena, the Dornish youth was cornered by Caraxes, pressed against the wall in terror, drenched in sweat. 

Fear of the dragon consumed him. Just as the last shreds of his resolve were about to crumble, a steady voice broke through the tension like a divine melody. 

"Caraxes, behave." 

"Skreeee!" 

Caraxes let out a roar, seemingly acknowledging his master's command. 

The dragon slowly raised its head, no longer paying attention to the helpless Dornish youth, and obediently lay down. 

As the immediate danger faded, the youth's legs gave out, and he collapsed to the ground with a thud, cold sweat dripping from his face like a torrent. 

Daemon dismounted from his dragon with a swift leap and strode purposefully toward the viewing platform, ignoring everyone in his path. 

No one dared obstruct his advance. Step by step, he approached Viserys' throne. 

"Stop! No one is allowed to offend the dignity of the king!" 

Ser Harrold, Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, drew his sword, the blade's tip pointed directly at Daemon's chest. 

Daemon cast him a sidelong glance but said nothing, his expression indifferent. 

Viserys remained motionless, his deep-set eyes fixed on his younger brother, scrutinizing him. 

Daemon stared back, and neither spoke, creating an atmosphere of palpable tension. 

The lords and nobles nearby exchanged uneasy glances, unsure how the estranged brothers would reunite. 

After a brief silence, Daemon stepped back on his own, easing Ser Harrold's tension. 

Then, from his waist, Daemon drew a double-edged axe and tossed it before Viserys, lifting his chin defiantly. 

"Add it to the Iron Throne!" 

Viserys remained unmoved, his gaze shifting to the crown on Daemon's head. His voice was calm yet firm. 

"You wear a crown. Do you call yourself a king?" 

"When the Kingdom of the Three Daughters fell, they named me King of the Narrow Sea," Daemon declared, recounting his triumphs. He paused before continuing. "But I know, Your Grace, that there is only one king under heaven." 

With those words, Daemon knelt on one knee, removed the woven vine crown from his head, and bowed low. 

"My crown and the Stepstones are yours." 

This gesture caught everyone by surprise. 

Who would have expected the ever-proud Prince Daemon to yield so readily, offering his brother the respect and deference due to a king? 

Viserys, looking down at his newly submissive brother, remained composed. 

He asked, "Where is Lord Corlys Velaryon?" 

"He has sailed back to Driftmark," Daemon replied truthfully. 

Viserys continued, "And who now holds the Stepstones?" 

"The tides, the crabs, and the two thousand Triarchy pirates nailed to the beaches as a warning," Daemon answered in a low voice. 

He knew this question carried great weight for his brother. 

Though Viserys seemed dissatisfied with the response, he gave a small nod after a moment of reflection. 

Rising from his seat, Viserys stepped forward and accepted the vine crown Daemon offered. 

After a cursory glance, he handed it to Ser Harrold, clearly unimpressed by the symbol of the so-called King of the Narrow Sea. 

Noticing the reactions of the surrounding lords and nobles, Viserys' eyes flickered with subtle calculation as he spoke in a measured tone. 

"Rise." 

Daemon, looking up expectantly at his brother, understood the signal of forgiveness and slowly straightened to his full height. 

The icy detachment in Viserys' expression melted into a warm smile. 

"Welcome home, brother." 

Without hesitation, Daemon embraced Viserys. 

Before the eyes of the assembled crowd, the bloodline of Prince Baelon the Spring Prince was reunited once more. 

The observant among them knew this act was more than a reunion—it was a deliberate message from the king. 

He welcomed his younger brother Daemon's return, but that didn't mean some people could take the opportunity to stir up trouble. 

Daemon understood this well. 

Thus, his attitude remained respectful from start to finish, a stark contrast to his former carefree ways. 

Rhaenyra stood before the crowd, observing this intricate power play up close, her eyes betraying an uncontainable joy. 

Her clear yet naive violet eyes still struggled to distinguish truth from falsehood. 

She was simply overjoyed that her uncle had come home. 

"Big sister~" 

At some point, Rhaegar squeezed through the crowd and came to Rhaenyra's side, taking her small hand in his. 

Hearing his call, Rhaenyra finally noticed Rhaegar's presence and smiled faintly. "Uncle Daemon is back. He was always so good to me when I was little." 

"That's right. He certainly looks quite dashing." 

Seeing his sister's happiness, Rhaegar forced a smile and played along, praising Daemon's handsome face. 

But deep down, he truly didn't know which of Daemon's supposed "admirable qualities" to acknowledge. 

Even though he rarely heard outside news, he knew the title "The King for a Day" came from his uncle's own lips. 

This was a man who once wished for Rhaegar's untimely death to claim the Iron Throne from Viserys. 

How could Rhaegar possibly like him? 

... 

With Daemon arriving on dragonback and the two brothers reconciling, the jousting tournament of the day was hastily concluded. 

The court moved to the banquet hall to host a welcoming feast for Daemon. 

As for a certain young Dornishman, whose trousers were soaked through, he was "politely" escorted by Hand of the King Lyonel to a high-end inn within the city. 

Not only was his lodging fee paid, but a personal guard was assigned to ensure his comfort, lest he felt out of place. 

The arrangements were lavish, attracting the curiosity of many. 

The explanation was unanimous: 

The King admired this brave Dornish warrior who had traveled so far. However, today's priority was to celebrate the return of his brother Daemon. 

The jousting tournament would resume the next day, and the warrior was invited to continue participating in the duels. 

Refusal was not an option! 

... 

The banquet was prepared and ready. Viserys walked side by side with Daemon, followed by a procession of courtiers, invited nobles, and lords. 

One had to admit, Alicent was truly an understanding queen. 

Upon hearing the news of Daemon's return, she immediately ordered the servants to clear away the used dishes and replace them with carefully preserved dishes from the royal kitchen. 

By the time Viserys led everyone to the banquet hall, everything was perfectly arranged, with no sign of last-minute preparation. 

Viserys was deeply moved and publicly praised Alicent as his capable partner, always helping to shoulder the burdens of the realm. 

Alicent, unruffled, held Viserys's arm and gently said, "You're already so busy with state affairs. You shouldn't have to worry about trivial matters." 

Holding the queen's slender, fair hand, Viserys's eyes were full of gratitude. "Thanks to you, my life doesn't feel so lonely." 

"Enough, if you keep this up, the courtiers will laugh at us. Hurry and lead everyone to the feast." 

A blush spread across Alicent's cheeks as her shy demeanor became even more captivating. 

The Stepstones remained a land of turmoil, fraught with power struggles. 

(End of Chapter)