Chapter 205: Dorn’s Wedding Proposal

Rhaenys was stunned, her face showing disappointment. She sighed, "Let's discuss this in the tent."

She didn't believe any plan could reverse their dire situation. She assumed the kingdom's support would be delayed further.

Rhaegar understood her doubts and chose not to explain in front of the crowd.

As they walked, Rhaenys recounted the details of their defeat. Tyland and his men were surrounded by the pirates of the Triarchy and suffered heavy casualties. The Sea Snake brought reinforcements but was overwhelmed. The enemy had prepared hundreds of scorpion crossbows on their ships and along the shore, severely limiting Meleys and Sea Smoke.

During the battle, the Sea Snake was gravely injured and remains unconscious in a feverish state within his tent.

When they entered the makeshift tent, all the realm's commanders were present. Vaemond, with his arm in a sling, and Cole, now in ordinary armor, were among them. Laenor and Aegon were absent, patrolling on dragons to prevent a surprise attack by the Triarchy.

As Rhaegar walked into the tent, everyone stood and stared at him. With the Sea Snake seriously injured and Tyland in custody, the army needed a strong leader.

"Prince... Prince..." The commanders murmured, saluting him.

"The matter is urgent, there's no need for formalities," Rhaegar said, his eyes sweeping over the gathered men.

Cole quickly approached and fell to his knees. Under Rhaegar's cold gaze, he spoke with despair, "Prince, I have sinned without pardon. I am no longer worthy of wearing the white cloak."

"It's good that you understand," Rhaegar replied icily. "My father trusted you to command the king's army. You, a soldier by birth and former commander of the Kingsguard, knew the law and yet caused the deaths of thousands."

"After I return to King's Landing, I will voluntarily confess and atone for my sins," Cole said, his voice hard yet defeated, his head bowed.

He had not only committed a grave crime but also tarnished the honor of the white cloak, losing the dignity of a Kingsguard.

"Take care of yourself," Rhaegar said, stepping around him and walking towards the table.

Rhaenys followed, her gaze cold and disdainful towards Cole. A Kingsguard who couldn't keep his oath was unworthy of his silver armor and white robes.

Rhaegar approached the table and stood as he began to speak. "Lords, we are at a disadvantage in this battle for the Stepstones Islands. We must regain our strength."

A solemn middle-aged man with a breastplate emblazoned with a deep purple grape on a blue background spoke up. "What do you have in mind, Prince?" This was Spike Redwyne of House Redwyne of the Arbor.

Rhaegar valued his input and said, "Given the current situation, I have formulated a plan that I will lay out with full authority."

"What is it?" Spike Redwyne asked suspiciously.

"Now is not the time to reveal all the details," Rhaegar explained. "The feasibility of the plan requires going with the flow and being patient."

"So what do we do in the meantime? We can't just wait," Spike pressed, frowning sternly.

The Redwyne House commanded one of the strongest fleets in the Bay. In Westeros, only the Velaryon and Celtigar fleets were stronger.

Rhaegar pondered for a moment before saying, "I need a bait."

Everyone in the room exchanged glances. Finally, Bartimos Celtigar spoke. "Prince, what are the requirements for this bait?"

The Celtigar House had long been loyal to House Targaryen, second only to House Velaryon. At the beginning of the War for the Stepstones, Bartimos had led his troops to aid the cause.

Rhaegar replied, "Since it is a bait, it must be prepared to die at any time."

Bartimos was stunned. The war had already inflicted heavy casualties on all the families. Acting as bait meant risking complete loss of the fleet.

Kneeling on the ground, Cole suddenly raised his head and shouted, "I'll go! I'll be the bait!"

Rhaegar turned to look at him silently.

"Let me go, Prince," Cole said, trembling with excitement. "I don't want to be hanged or sent to the Wall. Please, let me atone for my sins and perform my last duty for the kingdom by dying on the battlefield!"

Cole still held hopes for the glory of the Kingsguard. He didn't want to die in disgrace but preferred a knight's death.

Rhaegar looked at him, his mind racing.

Bartimos leaned forward and whispered to Rhaegar, "Prince, why not give Ser Criston a chance? Having someone willing to die as bait is better than choosing from among us."

Upon hearing this, Rhaegar glanced at Bartimos and then said with a sneer, "Good. Cole, you will take on this task."

The discussion reached a conclusion. Rhaegar fell silent, listening to the analysis of the battle situation from those present. The tumultuous Battle of the Stepstones gripped everyone's hearts.

...

The Red Keep, King's Landing

Inside the throne room, the advisers of the Small Council were all present. Viserys wore a golden crown and sat atop the Iron Throne.

"Ser Setyl Dayne of Starfall, messenger of Prince Martell of Dorne," announced a member of the Kingsguard as the large doors swung open.

A tall young man in yellow robes with dark hair and sun-kissed skin walked into the hall. He was the envoy from Dorne.

Originally, Rhaegar was supposed to host this meeting, but now Viserys attended in person.

Lyonel Strong, standing beside the king, announced in a booming voice, "You stand before King Viserys I of House Targaryen, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Ruler of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm."

This formal introduction, laden with titles, seemed to catch Setyl Dayne off guard. He stepped forward, bowing slightly. "Prince Qoren Martell sends his greetings and wishes for peace, Your Grace."

"Rude! You should kneel and bow before the King!" Lyonel's face darkened, his voice sharp with rebuke.

Setyl's eyes narrowed slightly as he stood his ground. "Dornishmen do not kneel."

"How dare you!" Lyonel roared, ready to escalate the confrontation.

Viserys raised a hand to calm him. "Enough, Lyonel," he said, his voice measured. "Why have you come, messenger of Dorne?"

Lyonel, clearly displeased, fell silent. He had hoped to make an example of the Dornish envoy, harboring a deep-seated dislike for Dorne due to the history of conflict between their houses.

Setyl composed himself, his face regaining its solemnity. "Prince Qoren is weary of war and seeks to negotiate peace."

Viserys's expression turned skeptical. "Oh, is that so? After supporting the Triarchy's invasion of the Stepstones multiple times, Qoren suddenly understands the value of peace?"

In the last Battle of the Stepstones, Qoren had led his forces against the alliance of Daemon and Corlys. Although he did not personally appear in the latest conflict, Dornish soldiers were present on the battlefield. Now, in the midst of another conflict, Qoren was asking for peace.

It's obvious he doesn't give a damn about the authority of the Targeryens and has bad intentions.

Setyl said, "Your Grace, war only brings harm to both sides. Prince Qoren is a man of honor, and I would not have risked my life to come here otherwise."

The relationship between the Targaryens and the Dornish was tense. Dornishmen entering the realm faced rejection and hostility from the local populace. If word of the Dornish emissary's presence spread, many bannermen would call for their execution.

Viserys asked, "The Iron Throne has always sought peace. Has Qoren decided to withdraw his troops?"

"Yes, Prince Qoren has decided to do just that," Setyl confirmed. "However, to ensure lasting peace between our realms, the Prince has a request."

"Peace offered by Dorne? What right do you have to ask something from the Iron Throne?" Lyonel interjected sharply, his skepticism evident. He understood the potential dangers of Dorne's peace offer. If Viserys agreed, the Dornish could make unreasonable demands.

Viserys, growing impatient, interrupted, "What does Qoren want?"

Setyl glanced triumphantly at Lyonel before replying, "Prince Qoren's consort has been dead for many years. He would like to request a Targaryen princess for marriage, to solidify peace between our two sides."

"Don't even think about it!" a harsh voice immediately objected.

Viserys turned to see Rhaenyra's icy expression. Among those present in the hall were not only royal advisers but also Rhaenyra, Alicent, and Jeyne Arryn. The Princess of Dragonstone, the Queen, and the Lady of the Eyrie were fully qualified to attend the session with the Dornish emissary.

Alicent's face also darkened, and she nervously fidgeted with her fingers. Setyl, unfazed by the rebuke, surveyed Rhaenyra and asked, "Is this silver-haired lady the Princess?"

"That's right," Rhaenyra replied haughtily, dressed in black finery. "I am the First Princess of Viserys I, the Princess of Dragonstone, and on behalf of the kingdom, I refuse Dorne's request for a marriage."

Setyl frowned slightly and turned back to Viserys. "Your Grace, can your daughter make such a decision on behalf of the King?"

Viserys ignored him and met Rhaenyra's complex gaze. He had promised Rhaenyra he would not interfere with her marriage. After a moment of hesitation, Viserys said, "She is my daughter, and I respect her decision. She will not enter into any union."

Viserys was determined not to marry Rhaenyra. He remembered his promise to her and was aware of his eldest son's feelings. If Rhaenyra were married, Rhaegar's return to King's Landing could cause considerable unrest.

Setyl, realizing the implications, asked cautiously, "Your Grace, if I remember correctly, you have two daughters?"

"Viserys!" Alicent gasped, her agitation obvious.

The other daughter was hers, of course.

"Calm yourself, Alicent," Viserys said, reassuring his wife with a gentle smile.

(Word count: 1,616)