XXVI.

That night she went to sleep thinking about the snowy North and her homeland. 'When I would see the gray walls of Winterfell again?'

If she can ever go back there. Or if, as in her previous life, she would return to Winterfell only after death.

Shortly after her eyes narrowed, she could feel her paws sliding on the freshly fallen snow, as she fearlessly crossed the dark forest.

She was not afraid, for she could outrun horses and sabre cats. When she showed her teeth, even the two feets ran away from her. Her belly was never empty for long and her fur kept her warm even when the wind blew cold.

The North was her domain and she was of Winter.

But tonight there was something different floating in the air. Something rotten was spreading through the gloomy forest environment. Something that even to she who only had respect for the winged fire worms, instilled a certain fear, anger and disgust in her.

Positioning herself upwind and raising its nose, she sniffed the current of cold air that shook the tops of the ancient trees. The wind seemed steeped in terror and rot, accompanied by a pitiful wail.

Without a moment's hesitation, she put herself on guard and began headding towards the origin of what her senses indicated. The smell was faint under the other smells; under the moss, snow, mud, water, and the stench of rottenness.

She walked slowly across the soft snowy ground to the edge of a clearing, where she raised her head to sniff. The sky was gray and covered with thick clouds. The clearing was dimly lit and a few bodies of she-two-feet dotted the landscape.

The deads she-two-feet were being the dinner of some bitches, which being against the wind had not even noticed her presence, while tearing the rich ripe meat.

The crows were there too, squawking at the bitches and filling the air with black feathers.

The rotten smell was stronger now. She pricked up her ears and heard the complaints of another bitch chained to a tree near the nearly extinct bonfire and the furious screeching crows. Somewhere not too far away, she could hear the horses and the screams of living two-feet, but they were not what mattered, nor were they a danger at the moment.

Only the smell of rottenness and cruelty mattered. She smelled the air again and there it was. And now she saw them too. A grotesque two-feet and a being that looked like a two-feet, but covered in mud and excrement, standing in front of the immobile body of a she-two-feet.

"What do you think if we leave her to the bitches too? Or do you prefer to fuck her now that she still looks like a woman and is still warm? HA!" exclaimed the grotesque two-feet, while cleaning a knife soaked in blood on the stained garments of the stinking being.

"Reek is here to serve you master. What you think is best for Reek will be the best for me." the stinker being answered hesitantly.

Though unable to fully understand what was before her, she knew it was her duty to show these monsters the law of the North. Her law. No one could commit such outrages in her domains. People should only be frightened by her pack, never by others.

Her blood began to boil, letting out a barely perceptible menacing growl. Ignoring the bitches busy in the carrion who were at the opposite end of the clearing, she began to move with the same stealth as her white pup, the silent one.

The snow silenced her heavy paws, which glided easily over the white tablecloth and the shadows that lined the clearing.

When she placed herself behind the back of the two-feet and the stinking-being, barely two powerful strides from her, she lowered her body until her belly was pressed against the cold snow

and ground, supporting all her weight on her hindquarters.

And she began to wait for the ideal moment to jump on the two-feet who had caused this evil in

her domain. Stalking and observing her prey.

"How about you fuck her while Kyra is eating this bitch's face? She seems restless and hungry HAHA!" the two-feet with the knife inquired maliciously when saw that the chained bitch began to go frantic at feel her presence.

Although it was not the time she would have preferred, if she wanted to kill her prey, she had to act before the bitch alerted the other two carrion eaters bitches.

"If my master wants it, Reek will do it." replied the fetid being, who began to lower his pants.

"HAHAHA! Look at you Reek! I didn't knew you were so excited GLUR!"

Nor did the hideous two-feet finish speaking, for her powerful jaws were closing on his neck, while her powerful front paws were knocking him violently to the ground.

Fast as a flash, she bit the man's neck a second time, practically severing the head from the body. She felt the warm blood begin to trickle and run down her fur from her jaws to her neck, but this was not the time to lick her mouth. And less with the blood of such a hateful two-feet.

Unhooking her jaw from the inert body, she watched as the fetid being tried to flee from her, but after two strides, the garments on his legs tangled, causing him to hit the ground hard on the face.

Although she was repelled by the idea, she knew that she had to end this being. In a powerful stride she reached the level of the lying and trembling being, which now, in addition to pestilence, gave off a terrible smell of panic.

By putting her powerful right paw on the stinker's back, she made sure that the stinker would not run away or give her trouble.

She raised her head to see if the scavenger bitches intended to attack her, but it seemed that they had understood their place and had fled.

For her part, the bitch chained to the tree, desperately tried to flee, but each time she started the race to the opposite side, the chain would pull her back again, tearing the fur and skin in the neck area. At this rate, she would surely end her life herself, before she could flee from it.

However, that did not matter to her. For her, the bitches could get lost in the depths of the forest, that some of the wolves that inhabited it, would take care of them.

Without further delay, although with enough repulsion, she lowered her snout on the stinker's neck and with a powerful bite, extinguished the life of the horrendous being, while it gave an agonizing cry.

Her task finished, she drew herself up as far as she could, leaning on her hind legs to let out a mighty howl into the night wind.

Once again she had proven her place as the supreme predator of the North, and she could feel how even the same tied bitch, until then frantic trying to escape, accepted her place, submitting to her.

However, before she could finish off the bitch whose neck was now fully exposed to her, if she wanted to, the sound of the horses made her head turn. Two-feets. They were coming againstwind,

so she didn't smell them, but they were almost here now. Two-feets on horseback, flapping cloths in white and pink, long shiny claws in hand. She left her prizes in the blood covered snow and ran without shame.

A beam of light that filtered through the shutter of her room fell violently on Lya's eyes, waking her.

Still half asleep, her throat dry. Taste of copper and iron filled her mouth, while she tried not to wake her husband, whose sculpted and hairless chest served as her pillow, she slipped gently from the embrace in which she was trapped.

Free from the loving embrace of Lya's still sound asleep husband, she pulled on a nightgown over her underclothes and barefoot walked to the door, which she carefully opened. Once on the other side of the door, glad she hadn't awakened Rhaegar, Lya strode purposefully down to the lower floor, to have breakfast in the inn's common room.

Fortunately it was nightingale time, so only she would be awake, so there would be no problem with her current outfit. After six nights in Braavos, Lya had come to the conclusion that she could

only sleep practically naked and tried to wear as little clothing as possible as much as possible.

Although it was certainly much warmer in Dorne, the clammy, clammy heat of the renamed The Lost Daughter was taking its toll on her. Not to mention that the baby dragon in her belly was starting to also take a toll on her.

At times the sum of heat and being pregnant again, brought her a feeling of repeating the events that led to her death.

'But now everything is different. Although I do not know if it's for better or worse. No doubt as soon as Rhaella, Aegon, Gerion and Davos find out that I am pregnant, they will not let me move from the palace where the governor of the Freehold is installed. And as much as Rhaegar has agreed not to leave me behind this time, it seems to me that now they will make him stay behind.'

"Damn social conventions ..." Lya muttered out loud, almost growling.

She was a wolf! She could very well give birth in the middle of a battle if hers were well and by her side.

Although when she noticed the first symptoms of her state she almost panicked, it was her uncle, Aemon Targaryen who explained to Lya why this time she was not going to die giving birth.

"Tell me niece, was Aegon and his dragons there fifteen years ago? Did the North know about your situation? Is Rhaegar the only one who can lead the armies? Don't you trust the schemes and plans that your son and your husband have hatched? Are you not just as fierce as the extraordinary being that right now you are stroking between the ears with your hand?" The old prince-maester asked in a sweet voice, fixing his milky eyes on her, as he rocked his neck between her and Winter.

Her she-wolf, sitting on her hind legs, rose slightly above Lya's left shoulder. Hearing the comment, it seemed that her she-wolf stood up and puffed out her chest, as aware of the compliment she had received.

"No, but ..." Lya tried to answer him quickly. To explain the danger from Robert, the Lannisters, the slavers, the faceless men, the 'Spider' and so many other things that kept haunting her head, whose potential was the same. End in the death of her entire family, while she was left behind, alone and totally broken inside.

Again.

However, the old maester did not let her conclude "No buts. You are the She-Wolf of Winterfell. Your husband and your son are Dragons and they have dragons. Your nephew is a being who has powers close to the divine, capable of navigating the threads of time and of taking the consciousness of almost any being on the face of the known world. Do you think that if you emerge triumphant from all the wars that lie ahead, there will never be a threat to your security again? You have power by yourself, not by your position or birth. The blood that runs through your veins is powerful like no other before, because you can make the impossible possible. And that will always be impossible for some to accept."

Bringing his bony left hand to Lya's right cheek, her uncle concluded,"Are you not here in front of me,breathing and waiting for a future boy or girl, fifteen years after having passed away? This time you will see your grandchildren and their grandchildren and when you reach my age, you will remember this conversation."

Lost in the memory of her conversation with her uncle Aemon after confirming her suspicions and

still half sleepy, Lya had hardly noticed that she was in front of the arc that gave access to the common room, until seven days ago tavern, of the inn.

To Lya's surprise, Rhaenys, with even less fabric on her body than she, was having breakfast, her gaze fixed on the infinity of the wall in front her daughter-in law.

'Either she finds the wall very interesting, or is she certainly talking to herself? Her other her? The Conqueror's sister?' Lya thought with some irony and curiosity.

Of course, at times, it was at least complex for her to fully understand what her son, as Lya's 'daughter-in-law? Stepdaughter? Daughter?'experimented within their souls and minds continually.

'Not to mention the burden of memories and experiences in the past? Present?Future?'' Lyanna was trying to understand.

'Although at times it makes them very withdrawn, it seems that both know how to deal well with the situation, strange as it may seem from the outside.' She concluded, deciding to make herself present to Rhaenys.

"Ehem." Lya cleared her throat, as she stepped under the arcframe, heading for the bar to grab some honey and raspberry molasses.

'My sweet tooth has skyrocketed since you've come into my life, little dragon.' she thought as while putting a hand to her belly, smiling from ear to ear unconsciously.

"Good morning Lyanna, Still having trouble sleeping from the humidity? I see you have adopted my style of bed clothes." Rhaenys saluted her in a tone too exuberant to be that of someone just awake, while her daughter-in-law pointed with her purple eyes first to the nightgown Lya was wearing and then to the extremely bare-bones one that Rhaenys was wearing.

Rhaenys's hands had released the silverware she was using to eat her omelette and bacon, using her right hand to signal Lya to sit on the bench next to her. "Before you come to sit down, can you get me some milk with honey? It's in the white ceramic jug on the bar." asked Lya's son's sister with a dazzling smile.

"No problem on both counts!" Lyanna replied with a genuine smile, though still a bit sleepy.

Raising her hand to her right eye, she realized that she hadn't even washed her face. "By any chance there won't be a basin or basin with fresh, clean water around here? Although tonight I've finally managed to sleep for more than four hours at a stretch, your father is warmer than Winter and Vhagar put together. Not to mention, I've always been one of waking up at first light." she asked Rhaenys. Lya's voice hoarse than she expected.

'Along with breakfast I'm going to drink a gallon of water.' She thought inwardly.

"I can understand you ..." Rhaenys said passing a hand over her forehead and in a resigned voice she continued, "Despite my taste for warmth, sleeping with Egg in a narrow bed is almost unbearable. Also since we have slept together again, he sleeps hugging me as if I was going to suddenly disappear."

Rhaenys shook her head, more to herself than to Lya. The she gave her a look and continued, "But the consent period is going to expire soon! I'm going to threaten him that if Egg doesn't leave me some space when I sleep, the one who sleeps in the bed will be Ghost. He will give the same or more heat than Egg, but at least he is super soft and cuddly! "Rheanys ended with a totally genuine

laugh, involuntarily causing Lyanna to laugh, imagining the constipated face what Aegon would put when at saw Ghost sleeping in the bed with the love of his life, while he had to be on the side, sleeping on the floor.

When both of them finished laughing, Rhaenys answered Lya's previous question "Behind the bar I left the basin that I used and you have a cloth next to it to dry you off, if you don't mind that I used it before ..."

Rhaenys said, half hesitant about the latter, to which Lya interrupted, raising her left hand, outlining a knowing smile "I have grown up with three brothers who even used my clothes to dry themselves. I think that using a cloth used before by you is an improvement over the vast majority of fabrics that I have had to resort to to dry myself. Thanks Rhaenys."

Arriving behind the bar, as her daughter-in-law had announced, Lya found a basin with clean water and next to it a black cloth, with a scarlet rampant three-headed dragon embroidered on one of its corners.

It caught Lya's attention to observe next to the cloth, a silver-mirror on which rested shears and a barber's razor, both shining as how sharp they seemed to be.

After washing and drying her face, Lya's voice higher than she intended and a face that certainly showed her interest, while still holding the cloth in her hands, she asked Rhaenys about the source of her curiosity. "Do you plan to cut your hair?"

Rhaenys looked up from the breakfast that at that moment had occupied her attention, to raise an eyebrow and biting her lower lip, answering Lya with some doubt in her tone, "Hmm ... You see ... when Senya accompanied my brother and Orys in their campaigns in the Disputed Lands, she came to the conclusion that, due to the impossibility of wearing helmet as dragonlords, it was best to wear short hair in the field. And although I did not copy Senya's military cut, I styled something similar during the Conquest. You know, practicality ... "Rhaenys affirmed totally relaxed as she made a gesture opening her arms around her, as if that movement explained by itself what Rhaenys intended.

Lya dropped the cloth over the bar while spreading her arms wide, raising her right eyebrow almost to the roots of her raven-brown hair, while pursing the right corner of her lips.

Rhaenys evidently understood that her explanation had been terse at best. After resting the face on her left hand, while Rhaenys's very long silver hair was spread with her fre right hand, Lya's step- daughter explained herself,

"You avoid being grabbed by it. You make it harder to get lice, nits, and fleas. You are cleaner and fresher, especially when we'll wear chainmail. Also, with so much dye, the natural strands of my hair that were black as raven's feather are totally worn out. The problem is that Senya is not here now and I think my grandmother will first lock me in a room with seven locks, than to cut my hair the way I wanted. Despite everything and circumstances, my granma has been, is and will be a Great Lady. And you know how are these regarding about proper and correct... " concluded Lya's daughter with a unladylike snort, while again making the gesture of extending her arms forward and to her sides, at the same time she turned her head exaggeratedly towards the left side. As if that gesture, again, explained everything.

'Although I do not deny that in this latter case, the gesture it did indeed explain everything and more. I know exactly what she meant by that gesture. And surely Arya understands that gesture too.' Lya thought internally with certain resentment, as she nodded resignedly.

Although Lya suddenly fell into something. "Chain mail? Wait, wait...Did Rhaenys, the Conqueror's sister wear chain mail? What's wrong with my embossed leather breast and back plate?" Lya asked abruptly in surprise on the first and with some personal offense on the second.

She knew that in the North, many preferred to wear light armor over medium and heavy armor. A chainmail with rings and under it, a breast and back plate in leather, was the basic armor of the northern warriors. And sometimes Lyanna felt she had to defend the customs and traditions of the North, for she was the North.

If Rhaenys took it for granted or noticed Lya's defensive tone in the second question, her daughter- in-law didn't show it at all in her gesture. Although Lya could see a playful smile at the first question at the amazement with which Lya had asked.

"Leather has no problem, but I don't thinkEgg will let you go on campaign with just that. Remember that this afternoon they'll take measurements to us and at least for me, I know from a good source that they are not only for clothing." Rhaenys replied with a certain air of sharing a great secret between them.

"It is true that Senya wore a sword on her belt and a Valyrian steel breast plate armor, quite similar to Egg's. Although unlike his, over chain mail made of castle forge. But me? I always was wearing a lightweight triple weave chainmail harness. Over it I would put on a black leather flake shirt. To this add my black cape with the sigil created by me in scarlet red. Which of the two women would you say is wearing armor?" Rhaenys replied, first with a totally formal tone, almost like someone reciting a lesson to a maester, then with pride at the mention of the legendary sigil and concluded by asking the question with quite irony slipping into Rhaenys's tone.

"My protection would never stop the lunge of a sword. But an arrow or a dirk or a dagger? Safely." Rhaenys continued now with an exuberant tone and absolutely sure of what she was saying, wearing a smile.

"Over the years and centuries, excluding and exclusive behaviors and images have been attributed to the three of us." Lya's daughter-in-law paused a moment in her story, staring at the infinity for a couple of seconds, after which Rhaenys absently denied a couple of times with her head.

When she looked back at Lya, it seemed that her gaze was now colder than before. The eyes taking on a color closer to black than the vibrant purple that characterized her iris.

"When at the time emerged as rumors and court gossip, none of us had an interest in correcting the things attributed to us. 'Let them talk' said Aegon. 'The crazier the rumors and the more exaggerated our alleged actions, the further they are from knowing us. If you don't know your enemy, you can't know its weakness.' Egg said." Rhaenys's tone was warmer now, but it harbored a certain stranglehold, which Lyanna could understand as longing. Rhaenys's gaze in turn seemed lost, fixed on infinity, vibrating now, the purple of her eyes.

Rhaenys clicked her tongue and shook her head again. "Best of all, Egg was right. In my case, someone who had tried to stab me in the back, chest or stomach would have been in for a very unpleasant surprise. Surprise, of which I would be the executor and to which I have to add, Senya would have added nothing." Rhaenys said totally impassive and with a sweet smile on her face.

Knowing the fame of the Cruel's mother when dealing with her enemies, Lya couldn't help but feel a small shudder running down her back.

'By the seven hells, she is such for one with Egg. She speaks with an ease and simplicity of some subjects, with which not even men hardened in battle speak. And she's supposed to be the

restrained and sweet of the three. Rhaegar annoyed, compared to either of them absolutely calm, impose as much as a baby dragon.'

Trying not to imagine Meraxes having a man for breakfast, Lya approached the pitcher of water and filled a jug that she drank in one gulp, to refill again and grab the honey in the process, since the molasses were already on the table, along with some soft-boiled eggs that seemed to be waiting for Lya.

After the two months with her son, Lya realized that Aegon did not think in the same terms as the people who currently inhabited Westeros, and among whom Lyanna had grown up.

'And I bet they weren't the same three hundred years ago either.' She thought, while watched Rhaenys again engulfed in her breakfast, surely arranged between Rhaenys herself and Marya. The latter was undoubtedly responsible for the sounds coming from the kitchen. Lya also picked up the jug of milk and honey and walked over to the table where Rhaenys had stocked up the food.

'Rhaegar is different and special. Complicated as he alone is. Prone to mood swings. Imposing in his own form. Rhaella is the epitome of Great Lady of Great Noble House, admirable for her pose and knowing how to deal with any situation. Aerys was mad like no one she had ever known before, or at least paranoid to the utmost limits, but Aerys's paranoia was based on the same fears and threats that Westerosi lords face every day. Aemon is resourceful and wise like no one I have ever met. Even Jaime beyond his arrogance, undoubtedly totally inherited by his Lannister blood, shows flashes of wit and speed of mental intelligence as few.' Lya meditated inwardly as she arrived, glancing at Rhaenys while she sat down.

'But Aegon first, and in the last few days, Rhaenys, have shown me that if the Targaryens as a rule stand out from the crowd, these two seem to come from another species. Not the one who is above of the rest, like all the other Targaryens I have ever met. But as something apart from the others.' She reflected as grabbed a crust of bread baked overnight by Marya, to open it in the middle and pour the honey over it.

To be honest, both her son and her adopted daughter-in-law, there were moments that reminded Lya of her nephew Bran. Sometimes they gave the impression of distilling magic, to the point that one seemed to be able to taste and savor in the environment, if one was in the presence of the three for a long time in the same room or solar. At other times they reminded Lya of servants, or vassals of little importance, for their ways of handling themselves in the daily life or their simplicity and practicality as the basis of everything they carry out or need.

'Although I must admit to myself, that regarding the first I do not know what reaction Rhaegar and I generated. Judging from some attitudes this week in Se Ojūdan Tala, I could swear we made the same impression as they.' Lya was sincere with herself internally, aware that after returning to life she and Rhaegar, plus experiencing everything she experienced in the almost three moons since her return 'Dragons, Direwolf and puppets of the Others as the tip of the Iceberg' had made her lose a certain amazement towards magic and what she previously believed to be impossible 'Or at least, little possible' she admitted to herself, while Lya spread the raspberry molasses, knowing that of the dragons and Direwolfs, they had at least left testimonies of their existence.

'Mmmm... .Sweet...' Lya thought with internal pleasure as she took the first bite of the breakfast, which with her appetite she would quickly be done.

"You do have an appetite in the morning, Your Excellency!" M a r y a Seaworth's sweet voice sounded from the hallway entrance that led to kitchen from the tavern.

Turning her head to the left, Lya could see Davos's wife wielding a ladle in her right hand, a plate

full of flour pancakes and herself covered by a kitchen apron, stained with grease, oil and flour. Without a doubt, carrying part of the breakfast that awaited the rest of the members of the Household.

Losing all decorum and etiquette, Lya gobbled up the honey-and-raspberry-smeared bread in a couple of bites and smiled from ear to ear at Marya, feeling that the corner of her mouth was completely stained.

"That's how it is!" she said in a warm, happy voice to the woman, who had gone from innkeeper and tavern manager, to Lady-in-waiting of the Dowager Queen in less than a week.

'Even if she continues to behave and act like an innkeeper.' Lya thought, comforted by the humility with which the Seaworths had adapted to being a Great House.

"But by all the Gods Marya, stop calling me Your Excellency ! At least when we're with each other. In the last six days and nights they have told me so many times that I am going to begin to believe that my name is Your Excellency." Lya added with a laugh.

Laughters that she could soon see were shared by Rhaenys.

"HA! And we are still in Essos. Wait till we return to Westeros, for you must get ready! Why do you think but that I liked to fly above all things? In the skies no one could come to me with Your Grace this or Your Grace the other..."said Rhaenys imitating a pedantic and presumptuous voice in the way of referring to her, while making a totally blank and impassive face, before breaking the wonderful imitation with a laugh.

Evidently, both she and Marya burst out laughing. Something to which Lya's daughter-in-law responded by bowing to the two of them, as if she were a comedian after her number.

Taking advantage of the relaxed atmosphere created between the three of them, Lya wanted to thank Marya for breakfast.

"By the way, Marya" she said, inclining her head in Marya's direction. "I wanted to thank you for having my breakfast ready. But how did you know that I was awake and that I was coming?" She asked curiously.

'Maybe I've come across her and I haven't even realized it' Lya thought with some internal disgust 'I don't want her to think I'm a Lynesse Hightower or Cersei Blackfyre.'

"Ahh! That's nothing, besides Nys has lent me a hand." Davos's wife said smiling, while turning the spoon of her hand in the air

"You'll see My Princess, the hallway of the rooms is just above the kitchen, so by the sound of the footsteps, I knew it was you. In two years one learns how to know the sounds of the pension one runs. We have not always had royal tenants, except through Nys and Rhaella, so it never hurts to know where they were or what they were doing these." the affable woman replied in a close and warm tone, again ignoring Lya's request that she not refer to her by title.

'I can understand that knowing her from the three days of her name, it is easier for Marya to talk without so much formality with Rhaenys. On the other hand, I am sure that in this Inn the security measures had more to do with the presence of the two royals mentioned than with what Marya has said." However, Lya did not intend to point this out.

Whenever the subject of her years in exile had come up, Rhaenys seemed to take on a face of guilt and grief, feeling responsible for the entire group's exile. 'Which is probably true to some extent.'

Lya reflected with some sadness about what Lya's family must have gone through their exile.

Despite having lived as the Dragon's sister, the last five and ten years in Rhaenys's life, must not have been easy. Trying to forge a bond, or at least a friendship with Rhaenys, Lya thought again about the cutting objects deposited on the silver-mirror over the bar.

Turning her head to the left, Lya looked at Rhaenys with tenderness and complicity, to ask her son's wife a question with certain innocence.

"Do you want me to cut your hair? I always cut it off from my brothers and my father. Even to Walder, Old Nan's great-grandson." Lya concluded exclaiming in a more acute and excited way than she first intended.

When the words left Lya's mouth, she felt a little foolish for what she had said. 'My brothers and a Stableboy as a fashion references. She's going to think I'm mocking at her...'

"Yes! I would be delighted!" Rhaenys replied with a smile from ear to ear and a tone overflowing with joy.

For sixth day in row, both she as well as the rest of the ladies, with the exception of Marya, were strolling through the docks of Purple Harbor. There, every morning after breakfast and until lunchtime, with Lord Davos and Lord Gerion as experts, they reviewed the war and commercial fleet they had acquired.

Lya by now had lost track of how many cogs, carracks, naos and war galleys, she had inspected, in a process that seemed to have no end in sight.

Every new vessel that appeared on the list provided by the Lord Admiral Essorio that day, had been moored to the docks and piers the night before. Before they and the increasingly numerous entourage that accompanied them reached throughPurple Harbor, planks and gangways were arranged to access the various vessels. The ones, at this point, they all looked the same to Lyanna.

'And considering that the Arsenal can build a war galley a day, it doesn't surprise me that the design of all of them is exactly the same.'

The only thing that allowed Lya to differentiate the vessels anchored in the lagoon added to the fleet, from those that were to be inspected, were the hulls and huge sails in black and scarlet, replacing the previous purple coloration.

The activity in the northernmost port of the lagoon it was absolutely frantic. The sound of hammers, sandpaper, saws, and wood clashing was like a continuous hum in the background. A buzz that permeated the entire environment forming a practically unbearable cacophony in conjunction with the voices of the people around the port. The smell of paint, dyes and tar, mixed with the smell of sea typical of the humid lagoon and that of the humanity of a city of the size of Braavos, made the scent at times turn Lya's stomach already half upset.

'Apparently my baby dragon does not get along with the smell of fish.' Lya reflected inwardly, remembering the retching that gave her the grouper gave to the fine herbs presented the night before in the palace of Tendyris. 'The voracious appetite this breakfast must be a consequence of having eaten nothing and less at dinner yesterday.'

"Your Excellency, are you alright?" questioned suddenly, distilling some concern, a voice behind her.

'It looks like I must have made a disgusted face remembering last night's dinner.' Lya thought as she turned her head over her right shoulder, to see Dale looking at her questioningly.

"I'm fine, thank you. It must be this humidity and heat that leaves me crushed." She replied softly without slowing down her passage along the boardwalk, in the center of the procession.

'I wonder how much longer the excuse of my dressing and low heat tolerance will work.'she thought, worried that Rhaella a few steps to her left would join all the evidence of her condition.

'It has been enough for today with the lesson on decorum and etiquette that she gave us all three when Rhaella saw the heads of Rhaenys and Arya.' Lya mused internally.

Looking to her left, she could see that for her fortune, Lya's mother-in-law was chatting relaxed with Gerion, from whose arm she was holding on to. With Rhaella's crown draped over her forehead, her low-cut red and white silk gown and her regal pose , her son's grandmother looked like the vivid portrait of what one would imagine a Targaryen Queen Mother.

Looking straight ahead again to the group of persons that was a few steps ahead of Lya, around them Nymeria kept pacing excitedly. Rhaenys, along with Davos, Beqqo Nestoris and Essorio were leading the retinue at the front. From what she could make out from her position, it seemed that they were arguing amicably about the virtues of the square sail against the triangular sail on a vessel. Arya, a couple of steps behind Rhaenys, was pestering Araldo and the Forels with questions about how the true Braavosi Water Dancers used the sword.

"Relax, My Princess. This ship is the last for today. In addition, lunch will be ready on the ship's awning." added Matthos's high-pitched, childlike voice behind Lya, promising a shade and a seat. To which she responded with an affirmative nod of her head.

In the short span of time Lya had known them, the sons of Davos had become a common presence behind her. Dale, the third King's Guard of her family and second son of Davos, was entrusted with Lya's protection and that of Arya. For his part, Allard always followed Rhaenys and Rhaella's tail. Rhaella, in turn, was almost always flanked by the laughing lion.

The continuous jangle and screeching produced by the armor of the three Seaworth brothers was part of Lya's new life. The Seaworth brothers always closed the procession, Matthos carrying the

double banner of Lya's mother-in-law and daughter-in-law.

Around the entourage, a steel ring made up of twenty soldiers recently enlisted in the fledgling Targaryen army, was in charge of putting distance between them and the crowd that gathered around them.

From street vendors, merchants and moneylenders to children, whores and beggars, everyone was milling around to try to catch a glimpse of their new rulers.

It was true that they had nominally taken over the city and the regime change and transition was being followed fairly normally. According to Rhaegar, as in the afternoon of the previous day, more than four hundred thousand people had already been registered in the census. Four hundred thousand golden dragons that have been distributed. Four hundred thousand property titles issued. Four hundred thousand new citizens whom with the population of Tar nu Fuin raised to almost half a million people the subjects dependents of their family.

'Counting the half million from the North, it would already be a million and it has barely been two and a half moons since the night of Visenya's ritual.' Lya thought inwardly, feeling a certain sense of euphoria at the speed and successes achieved by her family.

But it was also true that there was a stretch from abide the Freehold, to accept or fully embrace the Freehold. Lyanna would love to say that her son had taken over a nearly thousand-year-old city without shedding a drop of blood or without opposition.

The heads on pikes, now adorning the access bridge to the Square of the Freehold where Aegon along with Rhaegar, Ser Jaime and Bran were conducting the census, attested to the contrary. Along with these, there were seven others. Those of the first citizens of the Freehold who thought that the bronze plaques, hastily placed in the squares, bridges and intersections of canals throughout the city with the laws of the Freehold of Valyria engraved on them, were for ornament.

For the same reason, the city was still closed tight, heavily patrolled at all hours and with a current curfew. That is why the Faceless Jaqen was disguised as one more anonymous face in the crowd that surrounded them. And for that very reason, from time to time, Meraxes made passes over their heads. At such a low altitude, that one could feel the heat given off by the silver dragon.

"Oysters, Clams, Cockles, Mussels! Oysters, Clams, Cockles, Mussels!"

Lya was brought out of her musings by a voice that was able to break through the hustle and bustle around her.

Paying attention to their surroundings, Lya realized that they had reached the harbor area next to the fish market. It was crawling with herring and cod sellers, oystercatchers, clam fishers, butlers, cooks, wives, and sailors off the galleys, all bargaining loudly among themselves as they inspected the goods. The morning catch.

However, turning in the direction of the stalls was a mistake on Lya's part. As soon as she did, a slap smelling fish and shellfish stirred her insides.

Before anyone could notice or react to her sudden movement, Lya ran off in the direction of the edge of the dock, covering her mouth as best she could. When she reached the edge, unable to hold on any longer, bending her waist forward, while bringing the hands to her knees, Lya released all the food that was in her stomach.

The burning in her throat, the acidity in her mouth, coupled with the aroma from the fish market,

made her puke again and again.

She felt extraordinarily weak, shaky, tired, and out of temper. Lya didn't know when it had happened, but now she was on her knees at the curb of the pier, almost crawling across the cobblestone ground. Her long ponytail had at some point gotten in the way of her spills to the Braavosi lagoon and was now stuck to the chest of her blue gown.

'What a fitting image for a princess.' Lya thought with a certain internal resentment. 'I am incapable of behaving as is expected of me even in the simplest things. If I had accepted my fate with Robert, my father, Brandon and tens of thousands more still would be alive and I could have raised my son.' she began self lamenting.

A soft and loving hand resting on the nape of her neck brought Lya out of her trance of self- lamentation and self-loathing, making her feel less miserable. Turning, Lya could see that the delicate hand belonged to none other than to Rhaella's right arm.

Somehow Lya's mother-in-law had managed to drop her left knee to the ground beside her, crouching down to be at Lya's height, maintaining her royal pose. Not a single cut of the white skirt of Rhaella's had been folded or dragged across the floor. Her back was upright and straight, as Rhaella tilted her delicate neck to the left. Her son's grandmother was watching Lya with some grasp and understanding in Rhaella's two bright lilac eyes, with a dazzling smile all the time.

"[Darling, are you okay?]" Rhaella inquired in her hissed high Valyrian, distilling tenderness and sweetness in each of her intonations.

She isn't going to admonish me for having made a public scandal in front of half Braavos?' Lya wondered incredulously at the manners of her mother-in-law, as well as the mettle Rhaella exhibited even in an uncomfortable situation, as this undoubtedly was.

"Ehm ... Ahm ... I ..." Lyanna tried to explain, but she didn't know what to say or how to say it.

Something in Lya expression and her poor attempt to mumble some coherent response changed Rhaella's face. Suddenly, as if she had a whip instead of a neck, her mother-in-law's head turned to her back, hardening Rhaella's posture and gesture at the same time.

"[My lords Essorio, Forel, Lannister, Nestoris and Seaworth, could you please go ahead of me, my daughter-in-law and my granddaughters? I'm sure Dale, Allard, and half the guards will be fine to protect us. Thank you.]" Rhaella concluded the request, which was an explicit order from the Dowager Queen and grandmother of the Dragon Reborn, Great Lady of Valyria.

Arya and Rhaenys looked at each other, smiled in the direction of Davos and the Lord Admiral to then turn on their heels and walk slowly back to where Lya and Rhaella stood on the edge of the pier.

With a gesture from Gerion, five pairs of guards formed a semicircle around them, while Allard and Dale now bearing the banner, stood at a distance behind Lya and Rhaella.

Turning to her right, Lya could see that Matthos was holding a waterskin filled with lemon water in one hand and a dark cloth in the other, offering it to Rhaella. Lya's mother-in-law took them and when she turned her face towards Lya, her gesture returned to acquire the sweetness and tenderness prior to the interaction with the entourage.

"[Darling, don't worry,]" Rhaella told her while with the right hand she gently and carefully passed the cloth over Lya's mouth. "[Every mother of Westeros and Essos would understand your

current situation.]"

"Oh" was all that Lya could answer to what her mother-in-law had said, gaping like a fish out of

water

'How did she know?' Lya wondered internally.

Rhaella glanced sideways in the direction from which the Sisters were approaching and with a low tone only audible for the two of them and in common language, she snapped, "The first night, every time episodes from the past referring to motherhood were mentioned, I saw how you put your hands over your belly at least forty times." Rhaella smiled in a complicit way.

"That the last night you didn't eat a bite and this breakfast you have eaten more than my Rhaegar?" Rhaella said, raising both silvery eyebrows at the same time, staring at her while moistening the cloth with the waterskin, "I've had twelve opportunities to see you eat, and in a city where fish and shellfish are prominently eaten, you haven't had a bite of them. A few minutes ago I saw how you turned paler than usual for you and how Dale and Matthos have become interested. It was approaching the fish market and... well...Let's say I didn't need any more proofs." she told Lya, while continuing to wipe her face and mouth with the cloth, while with the other hand she adjusted Lya's tiara and hair.

"With Daenerys it happened to me exactly the same. Whereas with Rhaegar and Viserys I couldn't smell anything that was smoked or grilled without gagging." Rhaella concluded by pursing her mouth in disgust at the memory, while offering her left hand to help Lya's up in the same movement in which she got up.

"I imagine Rhaegar knows even if you haven't told him, and maybe Aegon and Brandon too. I don't know if you want to tell Arya and Rhaenys about it now, but soon the whole family will have to know it from your own mouth." Rhaella said, as Lya took the hand that had been extended to her and pushed herself slowly to stand up.

Quite recovered from the episode she had had to go through and comforted by Rhaella's care and words, Lya decided to open up to her.

She took a deep breath, noting that they were still talking between the two of them and she said in a tremulous voice "I'm from two moons. Maester Aemon confirmed it to me." Lya told Rhaella in a way that she could not contain her joy, although without raising the tone.

"I have not wanted to say anything before for fear of what reactions it could provoke. And this time I did not want to be left behind locked in a tower ..." Lya concluded in a barely audible tone, loaded with some sorrow.

Gently squeezing the hand with which Rhaella had helped her up, Rhaella said almost in a sigh "This time everything will be different my dear," after which she directed her eyes towards the pair and the she-wolf that were only a few steps away from them.

Arya had some concern on her face, but Rhaenys seemed to be solving a riddle in front of her.

'Rhaenys as much as she has only had one pregnancy in her life, she will soon put the pieces together.' Lya thought as Nymeria approached her feet to lick her.

'It is better that I tell Rhaenys now, than that she thinks that I was avoiding expressly saying it to her.' Lya concluded.

"[Are you okay Auntie? What happened to you?]" Arya asked in her forced High Valyrian.

Rhaenys for her part, kept looking at her up and down, although she had nodded to Arya's question as if she also subscribed.

Although almost antagonistic to each other and their ways of understanding the world, both of the sisters had a great point in common, Aegon. And they were both very possessive of Aegon, whom saw in both of his sisters essential parts of his life.

Lya's niece felt that she had been the only one who had always seen greatness in herbrother, always betting on Aegon's potential, even when being a bastard. The fact that he never was, added to his experience in the past only reaffirmed the truth in Arya's beliefs, proving her right.

For Arya there was no one better than her brother and she loved him madly 'Although for now, not in the Targaryen way'

Which relieved Lya for the moment since Arya was still close to turning two and ten days of the name and she still had a lot of life ahead of her to meet someone special. Despite the absence of amourous feelings towards Aegon, it didn't make Arya not jealous, at least because of the attention that Rhaenys had from Lya's niece's favorite brother.

The fact that it was Rhaenys the one who was present and not Visenya also somewhat conditioned the perspective in which Arya viewed her brother's sister-wife. Arya had a true reverence for Visenya and despite the first-hand information, she remained convinced that if you removed the cloak of rituals and blood magic, Visenya was the role model in a woman. Especially in a woman who aspires to be a warrior.

'Not to mention that thanks to her, both Rhaegar, Rhaenys, Aegon and I have a second chance in life.' something Arya was in charge of reminding everyone who wanted to hear her vision of the warrior queen.

Rhaenys for her part, was Rhaenys Targaryen, the Dragon's sister. She wasn't jealous of Arya. But Rhaenys seemed to have set out to show Arya that certain protocols, decorum, and etiquette could be followed, being equally compatible with straddling horses, bonding with a dragon or entering battle. In the opinion of Lya's stepdaughter, it was not necessary to know how to use any type of weapon other than a dagger, if you had a bond with dragon weighing more than ten tons. Something to which Lya didn't know how to respond when Rhaenys said it, since it was undeniable that she had a certain reason in her presentation.

From the first day it seemed that the pair of sisters had reached an agreement without words, in which one would try to be better than the other in what they set out to do. 'Something that Rhaegar appreciates greatly in the lessons of politics, etiquette and Valyrian.' Lya thought, outlining a smile as she contemplated the pose of both with arms ajar, hands on hips and head tilted in opposite directions.

"I'm fine Arya, Rhaenys." Lya answered, pausing, at the same time that she intertwined the fingers of her fine hands, bringing them to her belly. "I was just telling Rhaella the reason for some discomfort that I have had lately." Lya paused, breathed and steeled her position.

Something that had been worrying Lya a lot for the past six days was Rhaenys' possible reaction to finding out that she was having a new sister or brother.

"You see, what happens to me is that I am expecting a son or a daughter in about six moons." Lya confessed timidly and at great speed in common tongue.

The face of surprise and genuine joy did not wait to appear on Arya. Rhaenys for her part seemed

to show some happiness, outlining a half smile, although it also seemed that she was thoughtful.

"Am I going to have a new brother or sister to care for?" Arya said in an unusually tender way, her silver eyes wide and bright with joy. When Lya's daughter heard that, Rhaenys put a smile and a look of pride in the direction of her sister by force.

"You wasted no time coming back from the dead." Rhaenys replied in a mischievous and rather ironic way with half smile and vibrant tone.

'And she's right, because I'm sure this little one was conceived the night Aegon returned to Castle Black.' Lya thought as she affirmed, nodding her head and somewhat blushing, to both questions.

Rhaenys approached her spreading the arms in Lya's direction, wearing a smile that went from ear to ear. Lya accepted, wrapping her arms around her daughter from another mother.

Almost in Lya's ear, the honeyed and somewhat hissed high Valyrian of the Dragon's sister, sounded with some resignation but acceptance at the same time.

"[We don't choose who we love. My father and my mother, I know well that they did not love each other. My mother in this life, Elia, would have lived an unhappy life even without the Mad king, because in Elia's life there was never going to be anything more than be one more pawn in the Game. You and my father sought happiness before participating in the Game. Unfortunately, you lost. Now you have a second chance to enjoy happiness. That would be a good sign for everyone, don't you think?]"

Lyanna hadn't realized it, but a happy tear at feeling accepted fell down her cheek. Instead of responding, what she did was hug Rhaenys tighter, standing on tiptoe to lean on the curve of Rhaenys' neck.

'It is rare that my daughter takes me half a span on me, and also is a day of the name older than me. But it is even more so that my son is only two years younger than me. But after some misunderstandings, everything is fine. We started to be a family.' Lya was internally happy, feeling how Rhaenys responded to her embrace with the same force.

As the two unwound, Arya was waiting to give her hers, which Lya gladly accepted. Crouching down at the height of her niece, Lya grabbed her with all her might, squeezing Arya with love.

Straightening up again, Lya could see that Rhaella had been watching the scene unfold as Lya imagined a she-dragon would look at her hatchlings. And clearly waiting to also be the recipient of a hug from the future mother. Something in which Lyanna did not disappoint her mother-in-law, wrapping her in a strong hug, with which she intended to convey part of the gratitude she felt for her help and previous conversation.

"Well now that we've had a moment that my sister Sansa or a certain queen of the Seven Kingdoms would love, but that I don't want to mention," interrupted Arya crossing her arms over her chest, while staring at Rhaenys.

The turn of the eyes and the expression of resignation on Rhaenys's face showed that the sister was totally devastated by Arya scathing comment "Why don't we move at once and get to this last ship? The sooner we finish with lunch, the sooner we will be taking measurements for the armour!" Arya ended up overjoyed, though showing her weariness with the inspection of the fleet.

After that, Arya turned, whistled and ran in the direction of the ship and the rest of the entourage. Much to Dale's despair, that had to run after the princess as well dodging Nymeria in the process.

She and Rhaella looked at each other and at Lya's niece's gestures and began to laugh and shake their heads. After that her mother-in-law began to advance, but Rhaenys stood before Lya, looking at her with a face of doubt and curiosity.

"You can ask me whatever you want, you know?" she said nonchalantly, to which Rhaenys nodded while biting her lip.

"Mmmm... I have had a question for years. If I'm not misunderstand, blue winter roses only grow in Winterfell. If so, where did my father get the roses for your crown in the Tourney?" Rhaenys asked with real doubt in her voice, intrigue in her gesture and curiosity in her gaze.

Lya couldn't help but respond with disbelief in her gesture "Really?" She asked Rhaenys, whom vigorously affirmed with the head, shaking the silver hair that was left after having shaved the sides and nape of her neck.

Placing her hand under her chin as she pursed her mouth, Lya looked half a second thoughtfully to the ground, to lead immediately her eyes to her daughter with a gesture totally relaxed.

"Can you believe that's what supposedly began the Rebellion and you're the first person I have been asked about that?" Lya let out a bitter laugh, before starting to walk in the direction of the others, answering Rhaenys honestly "No one ever said that roses were brought by your father. I looked after the rose glass-garden in Winterfell. Only I could have one of those roses among all those attending the Tourney at Harrenhal, but nobody wanted to see it."

With a laugh at Rhaenys dumbfounded expression, Lya's spirit and heart soared up.

'Everything is going to be fine this time.'

The Lost Daughter, Essos. First day of the eleventh moon of 297 AC.

'Not everything is going well.' thought Lyanna, stroking her increasingly heavy belly 'Or at least for me.'

After nearly three moons in Braavos, Lya had realized that her problems did not lie with the rule or the administration of a city, province, or a part of the old Valyrian Freehold. Not even the politics behind the scenes, or its own falsehood bothered much to Lya.

No. Her problem lay in her inability to bear everything else that came with her position. The continuous hearings, visits and petitioners. The perpetual invitations to plays, comedies, and espectacles. The courtly world with all the pomp and pageantry that this entailed and the protocol and etiquette that it accompanies. Her pregnancy and increasing volume did not favor the situation. The permanent humidity that plagued the lagoon was the drop that spilled the pitcher.

'At least this time I have Rhaegar. And Davos and Marya too. But I am missing Winter, her pups and my pups.' Lya thought sadly, letting out a sigh.

When the irrevocable decision was made that except for a major cause, she and Rhaegar should remain in The Lost Daughter until the column reached Ghoyan Drohe, for logistical and logical reasons, all those who would no longer have a choice until Valyria over the Rhoyne were to be founded, also left with the column. Davos had a mission and his services were required at sea. And then Lya and her husband would use Vhagar's back for transportation.

From the stand of the wide window in which Lya was leaning, she could perfectly see the impressive barge of Gyleno approaching through the Long Channel, where Rhaegar would surely come, passing under the greenish copper domes of the Palace of Truth and the tall square towers of the Prestayns. Lya could see the huge gray arches of the aqueduct till the district known as Silty Town, where the buildings were smaller and less grand.

The Titan roared announcing the sunset. A sound that would echo through the lagoon, faint with distance but strong enough to indicate the change in life in their city.

Lyanna rose heavily from the stone bench by the window of her gigantic palace double room that served as her residence. The old palace of the Antaryons, was now in the hands of the administration of the Freehold. And as Rhaegar being the only one of the ten rings in the Lost Daughter, it fell on them to live in the enormous and luxurious palace since the departure of Aegon, the family and twelve hundred men barely two moons ago.

Besides Prestayn, the most senior magistrate of the Freehold administration in Braavos, had his own palace not far from the one they were in. The small and cunning Braavosi man had become the shadow of Rhaegar and her in every social event and audience since the march of Beqqo Nestoris to Lorath.

The Archon of the Freehold Administration had been sent to secure the annexation, or at least to sign a federal state treaty with the northern city. After that, the equivalent of the Westerosi Hand of the King would had to go to Qohor and basically become owner of all possible property through its purchase.

Meanwhile,little by little, the city had fully embraced the new regime emanating from Lya's son and family, even adopting the name given to the city among those of the blood of the Forty before the Doom. The Lost Daughter.

Those who were in the worst situation when her son and family took control of the region were the ones who embraced the Freehold the fastest. The orphans, urchins and youth with no future, had found in the Targaryen Army and in the Citadel of Knowledge a way out with which they could aspire to achieve greater heights than they had previously imagined in their lives.

The vast majority preferred to enlist the army because of the lure of a very generous pay, the

promise of glory and the fact that they could fight under the same banner as Aegon.

The youngest ones had been assigned, along with unemployed scribes, toForlond under the tutelage of uncle Aemon.

The city watch had gone from fourteen hundred, to more than fourteen thousand men between six and twenty days of the name to five and thirty, which was the maximum age to enlist. 'If they survive everything that comes, one of five and thirty, would end up discharged at fifty days of the name.' Lya reflected soberly, knowing that they could not solve everyone's life.

The day before, some seven thousand young men and women between four and ten and five and twenty days of the name had left to reinforce Aegon's column. All of them had been trained and armed from top to bottom thanks to house Forel and the daily surveillance of the head of the family, Brusco Forel. The same who, now without Araldo, was responsible for the city watch.

Those who had no land, no property prior to the census, but trades related to construction, quarrying, masonry, ship caulking, galleys and wood construction, had obtained land in Tar Nu Fuin and The Gift in the North of Westeros. An eighth of the fishing fleet had also been moved to the future great northern port. Just as a couple dozen carracks, naos, and galleys had. In total, almost fifty thousand people had already crossed the Narrow Sea to the westernmost province of the Freehold, to help with its construction.

Now she, nominally at least, along with her husband Rhaegar, as the ones of the family present in the city, ruled the lives of nearly five hundred and sixty thousand souls. People who in many cases have no trade or benefit, but who are citizens of the Freehold, with what this entails.

It is the largest sector of the citizenry and at first it seemed that they were going to pose an insurmountable problem, but finally between Beqqo Nestoris and Rhaegar they thought that the best for these disinherited braavosi was teaching them trades as needed and on the go.

Thus, for example, many whores and courtesans had become spinners, charging per skein the same as they would charge in a whole month in brothels. The trade of dyeing and tanning also underwent a spectacular increase. The cloth market was producing and selling like never before. Former pirates, smugglers and scoundrels, they were now enlisted as rowers in galleys, sailors in sailing vessels, or as part of the new city building watch.

Where before there were people who did not contribute anything, now there were latriners, stevedores, laborers, draggers, porters, cleaners, cooks, seamstresses, basket makers, potters, apprentices, stonecutters, silversmiths, clothiers, silk weavers, chandlers, puppeteers, peddlers, weeders, spinners, stonemasons, weavers, bobbiners, glass blowers, cabinetmakers, and wineskin makers.

And above all, a body of volunteers was selected, in physical fullness, with trades and properties, who together with their families wanted to be relocated to be the first settlers of the future metropolis of Valyria over the Rhoyne. In that bag were from great fortunes to shoemakers and cabinetmakers.

Each projected or already founded province of the Feehold had its own function. That is why the forges of the Lost Daughter had hardly increased in number, despite the demand that the increasingly numerous permanent army required. That's what Qohor would be for.

'Why invest in upgrading the forges to the level of those of Qohor, without having access to the materials, blacksmiths and armorers of Qohor?' the rhetorical question asked by the person responsible for the economic reorganization was repeated internally by herself.

Almost the entire economic project was the brainchild of the Free Bank of Valyria magistrate, Jakob Fugger. From Fugger's mind and from the hundreds of accountants in the institution, had emerged the production and economic plan that was now beginning to be implemented in the northwest of Essos.

'Even if they really do it and help in order to get the most personal benefit from the investment they are making, it will certainly change the world.'

The city of the lagoon and the lands nominally included under its domain had the function of being the nexus between both sides of the Freehold of Valyria, as well as the entry and exit point of all commercial and human traffic for the Valyrian entity ruled by Lya's son.

'At least until the macro project on the ruins of the ancient Rhoynar city of Ny Sar is completed.'

The crimes against the Freehold were almost non-existent and almost all were related to the census. However, those related to the political wing, such as robbery, aggressions, rapes and murders, had come to devastate some areas of the city. 'Tendyris is doing the job no Sealord had done for four hundred years: Cleaning the city of trash.'

For that same reason, much of the buildings in Ragman's Port were being torn down. To build a second arsenal with an even larger and deeper port than Purple Harbor.

'And in addition, the problem that this whole area of the city represented has been solved.' Lya rejoiced. The stone extracted from Ragman's Harbor had been transferred to the Drowned Town, where they were erecting a huge silo at the side of the greater barns there would be in the world.

The petty thieves, as a novelty in their sentences, had been offered the Nightswatch or galley oars without pay for five years. Rapists would be gelded. And the murderers were deprived of their heads. 'Simple, fast, swift and effective. This is how justice should always be.' Lya asserted to himself, as she lumbered across the pink veining of the marble floor of the room to wait for Rhaegar in their solar.

Before reaching the door of her room, this one was violently opened wide, startling her.

"You have to pack. We have to go now!" exclaimed her husband, with certain desperation in his tone, the responsible for the abrupt opening of the door.

Rhaegar's face showed concern, pain and disappointment, while his body was in total tension and alert.

Everything in the situation worried Lya, 'Robert is coming for us or has declared war on the North.' Lya thought bitterly.

"What's it, Rhae?" she asked half choked and urgently.

"I came from a chit-chat with the kindly man. He's back from Pentos with news of my brother and sister. Bad news. And what's behind the bad news is even worse news." Rhaegar replied, practically dejected, as he took Lya's hand.

"Has something happened to them? They're....?" 'Dead' Lya wanted to finish saying. But looking at the lost look and pained face of her son's father, it was impossible for her to tell. 'It's like being in the Tower of Joy again when my father and Brandon died, but with the roles reversed.'

"Alive. Nothing has happened to them, yet..." Lya was quickly reassured by her husband, knowing where her mental train was going.

Staring at her, while releasing her hand, Rhaegar expanded his explanation "But they are being used as puppets by the Pentoshi cheesemaker. Illyrio Mopatis, is his name and he is the same one who stole the dragon eggs from Lady Farman. And the husband of the late Serra Blackfyre whom turns out to be the sister of neither more nor less than Varys. The fucking spider has always been a fucking Blackfyre. So it seemed that his mission was really to take down the Targaryens... Because it was and I neither saw it nor did anything to stop it!" Rhaegar ended up screaming in a desperate and broken way.

'If Varys were in front of him, I have no doubt Rhaegar would have Varys's head torn off with bare hands.' Lya thought as she watched Rhae's arms at the sides with clenched fists and white knuckles.

Lya knew that now she should let her husband release everything he had inside, so she brought her left hand to Rhaegar's cheek, where she supported it tenderly. Something to which Rhaegar responded by relaxing his posture a bit while releasing a deep sigh.

"Between Mopatis and Varys they plan to marry my sister Daenerys to a Dothraki Khal, under the pretext that this way my brother Viserys will have an army with which to return to Westeros. And apparently my brother is so naive or stupid as to think that in exchange for raping my sister, the Dothraki horde will bend to him and that they will also serve him as something in Westeros." Rhaegar explained, trying to control his emotions, but to no avail.

Since when Rhaegar began to tell the future fate of Lya's sister-in-law Daenerys, Rhaegar's voice was practically a guttural roar that gave off disgust and hatred.

'Not even during the Rebellion did I see him so angry' Lya thought with a shudder.

"But it doesn't end there, no. There's more." Rhaegar added sarcastically and with a sneer of despair."My sister's marriage to the Dothraki lord is a fucking distraction. They want Viserys and Daenerys to be killed by the Dothraki. Or if it is the unlikely event that the horde and my brother come to fight to Westeros, wait for the opportune moment to attack both sides with my son and the seven times cursed of the fucking Golden Company." Rhaegar's tone gave off poison and it exuded a little contained fury.

"Your son?" Lya asked incredulously and without understanding exactly.

'Do they know about Aegon?' she wondered in anguish.

"Yes... Aegon, the son we awarded to Elia. Ash and Brandon's son. Your nephew Arthur. Supposedly rescued before the Sack and replaced by another. A pisswater prince. Or so they will cry out to win the support of Doran, who will kept the truth to himself. This supposed son of mine, is really the son of Mopatis with Serra Blackfyre and nephew of the seven times cursed spider." Lya's husband replied with a sinking gesture.

"Everyone thought the Blackfyre had been eradicated with Maelys. They've been plotting and scheming their entire lives in front of everyone's nose and no one had seen it. It's not your fault Rhae." Lya told him, trying to ease the burden she knew her husband was feeling at the time.

"We have to warn Aegon. We have to prevent that wedding as possible. Pack up, we leave at dusk." her husband settled, as Rhaegar turned on his heel in the direction he had entered.

'In the end my wish to not be left behind will be fulfilled, I hope I don't regret it.' Lya thought soberly, watching as Rhaegar went in search of Matthos to put on his armour.

Bringing her hands to her belly as she let out a silent plea, she promised herself.'I swear that not even the gods will prevent me from watching you grow, Elaena.'