**Chapter 134: The Uncrowned Queen**  

The hall was adorned with exquisite crystal chandeliers and filled with various rare treasures. 

At the center of the two rows of lamps stood a dilapidated wooden chair. 

With a hint of pride, Lannino introduced it at the right moment, saying, "This is the Driftwood Throne, the symbol of the Lord of Tides in our family." 

"Tch, it's just a pile of rotten wood, isn't it?" 

Before Rhaegar could speak, Aegon clicked his tongue impatiently, his disdain evident. 

Having endured a tiring journey on dragonback, he had no patience to listen to anyone recount family histories. 

"Aegon, don't speak out of turn," Rhaenyra quickly shot him a glare, signaling him to watch his words. 

Aegon sneaked a glance at Rhaegar's unchanged expression. Seeing that he didn't seem to care, Aegon crossed his arms and snorted. 

He wasn't afraid of this sister of his. 

If Rhaegar wasn't going to say anything, what harm could come from a few jabs? The Driftwood Throne might sound impressive, but was it really more legendary than the Iron Throne of the Red Keep? 

"It's all right. Aside from the Driftwood Throne, this hall also houses many trophies from my father and ancestors, including the mask of the Crabfeeder," Lannino replied good-naturedly, trying to ease the awkwardness. 

"Enough, Aegon. Show some respect," Rhaegar finally chimed in after the small interlude. 

Why hadn't he spoken up earlier? 

Because not only did he look down on the Driftwood Throne, but he also despised the scheming Velaryon family. 

Having someone to voice his thoughts on his behalf wasn't such a bad thing. 

Noticing Lannino's face darkening, Rhaegar's lips curled into a subtle smirk, silently approving of his father's wise decision. 

It seemed this foolish brother of his did serve some purpose when brought along. 

"Prince!" 

As they approached the center of the Nine Walls Hall, a familiar voice called out. 

Rhaegar turned his head to see Laenor rise from the wine cabinet nearby, his face full of suppressed frustration and his gaze somewhat agitated. 

Laenor strode forward briskly, his once portly figure now moving with determination, reaching Rhaegar without breaking a sweat. 

Rhaegar glanced at the sea snake, whose expression remained impassive, and asked, "Lord Laenor, is something the matter?" 

"Your Grace, Lord Corlys assigned me to the Nine Walls Hall. Forgive me for not personally greeting you," Laenor said, his words halfway softened, though he still shot a resentful glare at the sea snake's back. 

The meaning was clear. 

The sea snake had deliberately withheld him, causing him this humiliation. 

Piecing it all together, Rhaegar embraced the trembling Laenor and gently patted his back, murmuring, "You've been wronged, my lord." 

He didn't utter any words of revenge—such promises were unrealistic. 

Rhaegar had already secured the respect and power he deserved. Laenor's grievances could only be met with consolation. 

"As long as Your Grace has not been insulted, my troubles are nothing," Laenor replied, a shrewd man who had already guessed the outcome when Vaemond had to plead for the sea snake's intervention. 

"You are a capable Hand of the King. The kingdom is fortunate to have you," Rhaegar said, releasing Laenor and offering him unreserved praise. 

"Dear cousin, please wait a moment. Mother will be here shortly," Lannino interjected, attempting to change the subject by introducing the ancient relics in the hall. 

Rhaegar cooperatively glanced around, patiently awaiting the arrival of Aunt Rhaenys. 

Meanwhile, the sea snake seemed as though he existed in an entirely different realm. 

Silent and self-possessed, he walked to the Driftwood Throne, his gaze landing on a cracked piece of the Crabfeeder's mask, a look of calm satisfaction on his face. 

He had expected the king himself to come, having planned out negotiations. 

Unexpectedly, the visitors were the Hand of the King and the king's three dragonriding children. 

"Heh, ever since the heir was changed, our king has grown bolder," the sea snake chuckled, grasping the king's stance. 

But he didn't care. 

He was the greatest sailor in Westerosi history, having crossed the seas nine times and traded all over the world. 

Most of House Velaryon's wealth was his creation. 

His wife was Princess Rhaenys Targaryen, the Uncrowned Queen. 

Their family commanded three dragons, including Vhagar, the largest dragon alive. 

Such a solid foundation allowed him to hold the continent in contempt. 

**Bang!** 

Before long, a side door of the hall opened, and a figure strode in briskly. 

"Children, I'm sorry I'm late," Rhaenys said, her simple attire complemented by the joyful smile on her face. 

"Aunt!" 

Rhaegar greeted her with a smile, meeting her halfway for a warm embrace. 

"My good boy, you've grown so much. You're even stronger than your father," Rhaenys said, pinching his firm arm, her bright eyes gleaming with unabashed pride. 

As a princess of House Targaryen, her estranged relationship with both her husband's family and her own had kept her from seeing her blood relatives for years. 

Now, on the occasion of her nameday, reuniting with her family brought her immense joy. 

"Aunt…" 

Rhaenyra approached with a smile, offering her greeting. 

Rhaenys immediately let go of her nephew and embraced her niece instead. As she sized her up, she praised warmly, "You look great! Your complexion is glowing, and you've grown more curvaceous. It seems you've been living well these past years."

"You're as radiant as ever, Aunt," Rhaenyra responded with a charming smile, perfectly aware of the kind of compliments her aunt liked.

Deep down, Rhaenyra admired this aunt of hers—known as the "queen who never was"—and genuinely wanted to grow closer to her.

Her siblings greeted Rhaenys one by one, while Aegon hesitated, mumbling his greetings awkwardly, looking a bit reserved.

"Such a fine young man," Rhaenys said, pulling Aegon into a side hug. Her words were both wise and affectionate. "You'll be the best support your brother could ask for."

Aegon, at a loss for words, offered a polite but awkward smile, clearly feeling out of place.

"Alright, Rhaenys, we haven't even properly welcomed our guests who've come all this way," the Sea Snake interrupted with a smile, his joy evident as he watched his wife reunite with her family.

Rhaenys chuckled softly and replied, "Of course. Go on and discuss your important matters—we won't get in the way." She shot Rhaenyra a knowing look before walking to the wine cabinet to fetch a fine bottle.

Rhaenyra patted her brother on the shoulder and followed her aunt to pour the wine. 

After all, they were merely the political losers. The truly important discussions were left to the men.

Laenor glanced at his father, then pulled Aegon aside to give the others space. 

The room cleared, signaling the start of a conversation between the Sea Snake, Laenor, and Rhaegar.

Rhaegar exchanged a glance with Laenor before taking the lead. "Lord Corlys, my father has heard rumors that the Triarchy is making a comeback. I assume you've already received word of this?"

"Indeed, Prince," Corlys replied candidly. "The Triarchy's pirates have re-emerged, and some of my family's ships have already fallen prey to their attacks."

He continued, "The Triarchy has been dormant for years. Having learned from their past failures, they won't back down easily this time."

"You're absolutely right, my lord," Rhaegar said solemnly, recalling his father's instructions. "Given the Triarchy's aggressive resurgence, the kingdom must respond decisively."

"My visit here isn't solely to celebrate Aunt Rhaenys's birthday banquet. More importantly, I've come to invite you to King's Landing for further discussions."

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*(End of Chapter)*