Chapter 536: Blood for Blood

After the King's marriage, the dark clouds hanging over King's Landing seemed to have finally lifted.

When Queen Aliria became pregnant again, the Seven Kingdoms rejoiced, believing that the realm's political turbulence was finally nearing stability.

Unfortunately, tragedy struck once more.

Nine months into her pregnancy, Queen Aliria went into premature labor. Despite Shireen Maester leading a team of the most experienced midwives in the realm, the child could not be saved.

Worse still, the Queen suffered excessive blood loss and was rendered unable to conceive again.

When the devastating news spread, a fresh wave of rumors began to circulate across the Seven Kingdoms.

Some claimed it was proof of the King's "impure blood." Others whispered it was divine punishment for marrying his own sister. Some even questioned the King's legitimacy, arguing that his claim to the throne had been illegitimate all along.

One knight in Bitterbridge went as far as to assert that the current King's birth occurred too soon after Caesar's marriage to Margaery Tyrell, suggesting that Octavian was, in fact, a bastard.

The knight soon paid dearly for his folly.

The Baron of Bitterbridge personally severed the man's head and sent it to King's Landing as a gesture of loyalty.

However, this did little to stem the tide of malicious gossip.

Doubts about the King and anxieties over the line of succession cast a pall over the realm.

Whispers turned to schemes, and the undercurrents of discontent began to surge beneath the surface.

---

The breaking point came during a meeting of the Small Council when the Hand of the King, Lord Randyll Tarly, proposed that the King formally name his brother, Prince Aegon Caesar, as the first in line to the Iron Throne.

The suggestion left the King livid. He stormed out of the council chamber without a word.

Later, Queen Mother Margaery approached her son and asked him directly:

"Why do you refuse to acknowledge your brother's claim to the succession?"

Octavian looked at his mother with a mixture of indignation and grief.

"I'm still young, Mother. I can still father children. Why must Aegon be named my heir?"

"Aliria cannot have children anymore. As for Helena, no matter how much you love her, she is a girl. According to the traditions of Westerosi inheritance, your brother has a stronger claim than your daughter."

"That's exactly why they've plotted to deprive me of a son!" Octavian suddenly erupted. "It was Janey first, now Aliria! Mother, can't you see it?"

Margaery's face darkened.

"Do you have any proof?"

"If I had proof, I would have put Aegon's head on a spike atop the gates of King's Landing by now!"

Margaery sighed with relief. "Without evidence, you cannot accuse your brother of such things."

"Accuse?" Octavian laughed coldly. "Was it mere coincidence that both Janey and Aliria suffered as they did? Are they just cursed to never give me a son? Or can you not see it? Mother, they've been plotting to steal the throne that rightfully belongs to us all along!"

"Aegon and Aemon are your brothers. The Iron Throne belongs to them as much as it does to you."

"If I were truly unable to produce an heir, I'd name Aegon my successor without hesitation. But this isn't about that. This is about them murdering my children! Do you know what Janey and Aliria endured trying to give me an heir? You saw it yourself, Mother. You saw their screams on the birthing bed! Janey's last moments—do you remember how they cut her open alive?

That blood-soaked image haunts my dreams every night.

I will never yield! They must pay, Mother! They must pay!"

For the first time, doubt crept into Margaery's mind.

Could Janey and Aliria's tragedies truly be coincidence? If so, it was far too convenient.

Janey suffered two miscarriages and delivered two stillbirths before her death. Aliria, who bore a healthy daughter before her marriage, suddenly lost her ability to bear children after becoming Queen.

It was beginning to seem as though someone truly wished to extinguish the King's line.

"I will uncover the truth," Octavian vowed, his teeth clenched. "And I will make them pay!"

Margaery hesitated, then sighed. "But no matter what happens, you'll have no more heirs…"

"I am still young. I can marry again."

"And Aliria?"

"If Father could take two wives, why can't I? Even Aegon Targaryen had two wives."

"Aegon the Conqueror united the Seven Kingdoms, and your father ended the Long Night and saved humanity. How do you compare to them?" Margaery retorted. "Kings are not all equal. What they could do, you cannot. Marrying Aliria already caused a stir. If you take another wife…"

"What? Would they dare rebel?" Octavian interrupted.

Margaery pressed her lips together, remaining silent for a long moment. Then she said:

"Don't act recklessly on this. I will investigate, and if Aegon or Aemon are truly behind this, I will show them no mercy!"

She left without waiting for a response.

Octavian watched his mother's retreating figure, a bitter smile on his lips.

"Mother, even if Gavin Mander couldn't find proof, what hope do you have?"

The King sat in the shadows of his study, feeling an overwhelming wave of isolation.

---

A knock at the door broke his solitude.

"Your Majesty, the Hand of the King seeks an audience," a guard announced.

A cold glint flashed in Octavian's eyes, but he called out:

"Let him in."

Lord Randyll Tarly entered and had barely begun to bow when the King cut him off.

"Lord Randyll, have you come to urge me to name Aegon as my heir again?"

"No, Your Majesty," the lord replied, his voice calm. "I am here to tender my resignation."

He removed the brooch of the Hand of the King from his chest and placed it on the table.

The King's expression darkened, and his anger flared.

"Randyll Tarly! What is the meaning of this? Are you trying to force my hand?"

"You misunderstand me, Your Majesty," Lord Randyll said evenly. "I am simply old, and my body can no longer bear the burden of serving the realm. That is all."

Octavian laughed bitterly.

"You think I don't know what you're doing? You're trying to force me to name your grandson-in-law as my heir!"

Lord Randyll sighed, his gaze growing heavy.

"Is that what you truly believe? Have you forgotten that you are also my grandson?"

"But your loyalty lies with Aegon, doesn't it?"

"If you had a son, my support would be his."

"I have a daughter!"

"In Westeros, male heirs come before female ones…"

"That's a Targaryen tradition. This is the Caesar dynasty!"

"That is Westerosi tradition," Lord Randyll countered. "To overturn it would be to shake the foundations of hundreds of noble houses. Your Majesty, I urge you not to act rashly."

"Then let's convene a Great Council!" Octavian suddenly declared.

"A Great Council?"

"Yes. Let the lords of Westeros decide who should inherit the Iron Throne!"

Lord Randyll studied the King intently.

"Your Majesty, do you truly wish for this? Over two hundred years ago, the Targaryens held a Great Council to decide between a female heir and a male one. You know how that ended."

"I've told you already," Octavian said coldly, "this is the Caesar dynasty, not the Targaryen dynasty."

"But the lords remain the same."

"Then let them choose. Lord Randyll, surely you won't deny me this request?"

"Of course not," the old lord said with a bow. "You have every right to convene a Great Council."

"Then will you stay on as Hand of the King?"

Randyll shook his head.

"I am eighty years old, Your Majesty. I wish to live my last days in Horn Hill."

Octavian stared at the snow-haired lord, feeling a pang of sorrow. But anger quickly replaced it.

Even so, he nodded.

"Very well. Do you have a recommendation for your successor?"

"Perhaps Lord Tyrion Lannister ," Lord Randyll suggested after a moment.

"A Lannister?" The King's lips twitched. "I'll consider it."

Lord Randyll said no more. Bowing deeply, he said:

"I will leave King's Landing after the Great Council concludes. Please take care, Your Majesty."

---

A month later, the Great Council convened in King's Landing. Over 500 lords from across the Seven Kingdoms gathered in the Red Keep to debate the future of the realm.

After three days of deliberations, the council reached a decision.

Prince Aegon Caesar, the second son of the late King, was overwhelmingly chosen as heir to the Iron Throne, over the King's only daughter, Princess Helena.

The outcome surprised no one.

In Westeros, with the exception of Dorne, male heirs always took precedence over female ones.

Many saw the King's insistence on convening the Great Council as a humiliation of his own making.

It didn't take long for people to understand why the King had insisted on convening the Great Council, even when he knew the vast majority of nobles would not choose his daughter.

---

After the council concluded, Lord Randyll Tarly resigned as Hand of the King and departed King's Landing.

The King appointed a new Hand: Lord Marlin Peake of Starpike.

This appointment sparked a wave of controversy among the Seven Kingdoms' nobility. The Peake family had fallen into decline as early as King Caesar's reign, and Lord Marlin lacked any meaningful experience in governance, significant achievements, or respected reputation.

The only apparent reason for his appointment seemed to be his vote for Princess Helena during the Great Council.

Subsequent actions by the King only confirmed this theory.

Over the span of a month, the King removed five additional long-serving members of the Small Council, replacing them all with new faces. Even figures like Tyrion Lannister, who had been Master of Coin since Caesar's time, and Gavin Mander, the longtime Master of Whisperer, were dismissed.

The only thing these new appointees had in common was their support for Helena during the council vote.

It became clear to all: the King had not convened the Great Council to win the debate. He had convened it to identify his most loyal supporters.

---

"He's lost his mind!"

At the Lannister manor, Prince Aemon Caesar raised his cup of wine and loudly declared his opinion.

"Your Highness, you're drunk," Tyrion Lannister remarked, gesturing for the servants to leave the room.

Prince Aemon dismissed the notion with a wave of his hand, his expression carefree.

As the second son of the late King Caesar and Queen Daenerys, Aemon possessed the signature silver hair and violet eyes of House Targaryen, paired with a strikingly handsome appearance that seemed almost otherworldly.

Unlike his twin brother Aegon, who was known for his calm and measured temperament, Aemon had a fiery personality. From a young age, he displayed a penchant for violence and bravado. In fact, it was said that the animosity between the current King and his half-brother began years ago when Aemon knocked out three of Octavian's teeth during a sparring match.

"Father-in-law, what are you worried about?" Aemon smirked. "Do you think the Seven Kingdoms don't already have enough people cursing the King?"

"He's still your brother," Tyrion said with a sigh, eyeing his troublesome son-in-law warily.

To be fair, Tyrion had strongly opposed the marriage between his daughter, Sirei, and Prince Aemon. It wasn't because the match was beneath her—quite the opposite. Given the Lannisters' diminished political influence, marrying into the royal family was a considerable step up.

But Tyrion knew better than to entrust his daughter to someone as unpredictable as Aemon. Of the three Caesar princes, Aemon was undoubtedly the most reckless, prone to causing trouble that could drag his family into disaster.

Yet Aemon himself had personally proposed the match, and with both Sirei and Tyrion's wife, Shae, in favor, Tyrion had reluctantly agreed.

Now, with the kingdom embroiled in turmoil over the issue of succession, Tyrion's unease only deepened.

Especially with Aemon—his unpredictable son-in-law—spouting off daily provocations that kept Tyrion on edge.

"Father-in-law, the fact that he dismissed you from the council is outrageous!" Aemon exclaimed, slamming his cup onto the table.

"Perhaps it's for the best," Tyrion replied evenly. "I've been at this long enough. It's time to retire. I'm planning to move back to Casterly Rock."

"Back to Casterly Rock?" Shae asked, startled. "Now of all times?"

"Yes," Tyrion said, casting a scrutinizing glance at his wife. He couldn't help but notice the surprise—and reluctance—in her reaction.

"Father-in-law, if you leave now, you'll miss all the excitement," Aemon said, his grin widening mischievously.

"What excitement are you referring to?"

"Our dear King didn't go through all this trouble purging the Small Council just for fun. He's clearly planning something big. And do you think he's content with my brother being named his heir?"

"Even if he isn't, what can he do?" Shae interjected. "The Great Council has already declared Aegon the heir to the Iron Throne."

"But what if the King were to have a son?"

"How would he do that? Queen Aliria can no longer bear children."

"What if the King remarries?"

"Remarry?" Shae's eyes widened. "Where did you hear that?"

"Enough!" Tyrion interrupted, slamming his goblet down on the table. Rising to his feet, he said, "I'm tired. That's enough for tonight. Your Highness, I'll have someone escort you back to your chambers."

---

After Aemon left, Tyrion closed the door and turned to face Shae, his expression as sharp as steel.

"Tell me, have you been involved in anything concerning the King?"

"What are you talking about?" Shae asked, feigning ignorance.

"Don't lie to me, Shae. I've known you too long not to see through you."

Under his intense gaze, Shae faltered. Finally, she muttered:

"Maybe…a little."

"A little?" Tyrion snapped. "What does that even mean?"

"I…I don't know," Shae stammered. "They asked me to arrange for a few servants to enter the Red Keep. That's all. Nothing directly tied to the King."

"You fool!" Tyrion exploded, pacing the room in frustration. "Do you have any idea what you've done? You're endangering the entire Lannister family!"

"What's there to be afraid of?" Shae retorted. "This plan involves people far more powerful than you realize…"

"Oh, really?" Tyrion interrupted, his tone icy. "Then why didn't you tell me? Did they tell you to keep it from me?"

"They said it was to protect you…"

"Protect me? Rubbish! They didn't want me stopping your idiocy!" Tyrion retorted. "I don't even need you to name names to know who's involved. Roose Bolton, Anya Waynwood, maybe a Frey or two—just a bunch of disgruntled schemers. Do you really think they have any real power? When this blows up, none of them will save you!"

Shae paled, but still tried to defend herself.

"We're doing this for Queen Daenerys and Prince Aegon!"

"Does Daenerys even know about this?" Tyrion asked, narrowing his eyes.

"She must know," Shae said uncertainly. "Ser Jorah Mormont contacted me."

"Jorah Mormont?" Tyrion sneered. "Since when does he speak for Daenerys?"

"He's her most trusted knight…"

"Oh, Shae, you poor fool," Tyrion said, shaking his head. "You think you're playing the Game of Thrones, but you don't even know the rules. Let me tell you something: if Daenerys finds out about this, she won't thank you. She'll hand you over to the King as a peace offering."

"That's impossible! We're helping her son!"

"No," Tyrion said, his voice cold. "You're sowing division in House Caesar. You're stirring chaos to serve your own interests."

"And why shouldn't we look out for ourselves?" Shae shot back. "Look at you—Lord of Casterly Rock, Warden of the West, Master of Coin for over thirty years. How much have you done for the realm? And yet the King dismissed you like a common servant! Doesn't that anger you?"

"At least I'll leave King's Landing alive," Tyrion said. "If you keep meddling, we'll leave in coffins."

"Don't worry. We've been careful—he'll never find out. Besides…" Shae hesitated.

But Tyrion had already seen through his wife's little thoughts:

"Are you trying to say that Gavin Mander is also on your side, so we will never be discovered?"

"You can guess this?"

"Ha! You guys didn't get beheaded by Octavian despite all your mischief, so there must be someone covering up for you. And that person can only be Gavin Mander, the Master of Whisperer .

Tyrion scoffed. "If I can figure it out, don't you think others can too? The more 'clever' you think you're being, the easier it is for someone to expose you!"

Shae almost bit her own lip but still refused to give in:

"Impossible. The King can't afford to care about us right now. If he tries to remarry by force, he will surely anger most of the nobles and the church. His enemies will only increase."

"Fine, even if Octavian really hasn't discovered your little schemes. But you guys seems to have you forgotten someone?"

Finally, Tyrion delivered the final blow

"Who?"

Tyrion exhaled heavily.

"Caesar."

The name froze Shae in place.

"Caesar…he's…"

"Dead?" Tyrion smirked. "Why don't you visit the sept and see if the body of a dead man can remain perfectly preserved for thirty years?"

"But he's been lying there for so long…"

"And tomorrow, he might wake up," Tyrion said grimly. "When he does, how do you think he'll deal with you?"

Shae, thoroughly shaken, had no response.

In the minds of the Seven Kingdoms' people, especially those who had survived the Long Night, Caesar was not just a king but a symbol of invincibility—someone closer to a god than a mortal.

They might plot against the current King, but none dared to act against Caesar.

And they also knew that no matter how secretive they were, they would never be able to hide it from Caesar's eyes.

"From now on," Tyrion ordered, "you will cut all ties with those people. Pack your things. We're leaving for Casterly Rock tomorrow."

Though her eyes flickered with defiance, Shae eventually nodded.

"…Fine."

---

As one great lord after another left King's Landing, the city grew increasingly tense.

The King and his Small Council, after several rounds of deliberation, issued a series of reform edicts. The most striking among them was the formal elevation of Crown Prince Aegon.

As the second son of the late King, Prince Aegon's original fiefdom was Storm's End. However, the King revoked his brother's title as Duke of Storm's End and Warden of the Stormlands, and instead elevated him to Prince of Dragonstone.

From duke to prince, the title was indeed a promotion, as the title of Prince of Dragonstone had traditionally been the designation for heirs to the Iron Throne during the Targaryen dynasty.

On the surface, the appointment seemed entirely reasonable.

But any discerning observer could see that this was, in fact, a demotion disguised as a promotion.

The barren Dragonstone could hardly compare to the prosperous Stormlands.

Moreover, Storm's End, as the site of the late King's rise to power, carried far greater symbolic significance than Dragonstone.

Adding insult to injury, the King awarded the now-vacant title of Duke of Storm's End and Warden of the Stormlands to his only daughter—

Princess Helaena.

Unexpectedly, Prince Aegon received the news with surprising calm.

At the time, he was escorting Lord Randyll Tarly back to Horn Hill. Upon receiving the edict, he merely smiled and said,

"This arrangement works just as well. I'll be closer to Mother."

Since Queen Mother Daenerys had always resided on Dragonstone, this remark was entirely logical.

Still, Prince Aegon's indifference disappointed many schemers hoping for chaos. His composed reaction instantly defused the tense political climate.

It seemed House Caesar was more united than many had anticipated.

However, an incident soon occurred that reignited tensions within the Caesar family.

To understand this, we must focus on one key figure—

The King's only daughter, Princess Helaena.

Princess Helaena was the child of the King and Queen Alyria, but she had lived her early life in King's Landing as a bastard.

To preserve the King's reputation, Queen Alyria had concealed Helaena's true parentage for years. Until the King formally married her mother and legitimized her, Helaena believed she was the illegitimate daughter of a lowly knight.

This childhood of humiliation and insecurity shaped Helaena's personality into one that was both contrarian and hypersensitive.

Once she was acknowledged by the King, however, her inferiority complex slowly transformed into arrogance, and her sensitivity turned into haughtiness.

Losing the succession battle to her uncle Aegon further fueled her resentment toward him, despite her young age of only ten.

Thus, when her father bestowed her uncle's former fiefdom upon her, Helaena felt a surge of vindictive pleasure.

One early morning, she mounted her young dragon, Firecloud, and flew south at full speed.

Firecloud was a dragon with bright red scales and wings so thin they seemed like clouds, hence its name. It had hatched from the fourth egg laid by Cleopatra, and Helaena had raised it since birth. Their bond was deep.

The red dragon carried the princess southward to Storm's End.

At the time, Prince Aegon was still escorting Lord Randyll Tarly back to Horn Hill. In his absence, it fell to his son, Daeron Caesar, to greet the princess.

Or rather, "greet" is not the right word.

For the princess did not enter the castle. Instead, she landed on the open-air platform, raised her chin, and ordered her uncle's family to vacate her castle immediately.

Her imperious attitude naturally enraged Daeron, who retorted that Helaena was nothing more than a bastard.

As we know, disputes between children, especially in the absence of adults, can quickly spiral out of control.

This is especially true when these children possess powers far beyond their understanding.

Daeron's insult provoked the already sensitive Helaena. Screaming, she commanded her dragon to attack.

Perhaps she intended only to frighten her cousin, or perhaps Firecloud misunderstood her intent. Or perhaps the red dragon was simply in a foul mood that day. Whatever the case, at her command, the dragon unleashed a torrent of flames at Daeron.

The unexpected attack caught the surrounding guards off guard, and even Helaena herself was horrified.

It was not until her cousin's anguished screams pierced her ears that she hurriedly fled Storm's End atop her dragon.

When Prince Aegon rushed back upon hearing the news, he found his son disfigured by fire and missing an arm.

Under such circumstances, even Aegon's famed temper could not endure the insult.

He publicly demanded that the King hand over the culprit who had harmed his son.

The King, knowing he was in the wrong, sent a personal apology to his brother but refused to surrender his daughter.

As compensation, the King rescinded his earlier decree and reappointed Aegon as Prince of Storm's End, thus restoring the Stormlands to him.

However, this gesture failed to quell Aegon's anger.

"He cannot give me back what was already mine as if it's a gift," declared Aegon. "There is only one way to earn my forgiveness—

Blood for blood, fire for fire!"

This demand was impossible for the King to accept. Helaena was his only child. He could never agree to subject her to dragonfire.

Thus, tensions between the two brothers escalated.

The hot-tempered Prince Aemond, seeking to avenge his brother and nephew, took drastic action. As commander of the royal fleet, he blockaded King's Landing harbor, aiming hundreds of cannons at the Red Keep.

He issued an ultimatum: if the King did not hand over Princess Helaena within three days, he would bombard the castle.

This act brought the Seven Kingdoms to the brink of civil war.

But at the critical moment, Queen Mother Daenerys arrived on her black dragon, Drogon, at King's Landing.

She was received with the highest honors by Queen Mother Margaery, and the two held a private meeting that lasted through the night.

The next day, the two queens appeared together atop the Red Keep, hand in hand, as the city erupted in cheers.

It was clear to all: war would not come.

Prince Aemond withdrew his fleet, and the King announced that he would not pursue his brothers' defiance.

As further compensation for Daeron's injury, Prince Aegon was officially reappointed Prince of Storm's End and Warden of the Stormlands.

In a final concession, the King announced he would never remarry.

It was only then that the court realized the gravity of the King's vow. Queen Alyria was barren; by swearing never to take another wife, the King ensured he would have no more children.

This effectively secured Prince Aegon's position as heir to the Iron Throne.

The resolution brought joy to some and despair to others. But for now, the threat of civil war had passed, and peace seemed restored.

However, the seeds of hatred have been planted. No one can tell whether they will take root, sprout, and grow stronger, or gradually dissipate with the passage of time.

Time passed. Five years later, Princess Helaena came of age and married Ser Denys Arryn, the eldest son of Harold Arryn, Warden of the Vale.

Not long after their wedding, Helaena became pregnant.

A witch from across the Narrow Sea confidently predicted that she would bear a son.

King Octavian was overjoyed and hosted a grand feast at the Red Keep to celebrate the news of a future grandson.

At the same time, a new problem began to emerge:

If the king has a grandson, who will be ahead in the succession order, him or Prince Aegon?

Some people worry that the dispute over the succession to the Iron Throne will once again stir up the political situation in the Seven Kingdoms.

But soon, people found that their worries seemed unnecessary.

Because tragedy struck: Helaena miscarried.

The ill fortune that had plagued the King and Queen now seemed to extend to their daughter.

Was this the will of the gods, refusing the King a male heir? Or was there a more sinister plot at work?

The grief-stricken King flew into a rage, imprisoning all the servants of the Red Keep and interrogating them one by one, determined to unmask the culprit.

And at every interrogation, the king asked bluntly whether Aegon Aemon had sent them.

It seemed that the king had already determined that it was his two younger brothers who were constantly plotting to murder his offspring.

Despite his fury and violence, no confessions were obtained.

Heads rolled, their gruesome remains displayed on pikes atop the Red Keep, casting a terrifying shadow over the castle.

Though no evidence surfaced, even Helaena became convinced her uncles were behind her child's death.

So, the mother who had just lost her child, impulsively dragged her not-yet-recovered body, climbed onto her mount "Fire Cloud", and headed south again to Storm's End.

On that day, Storm's End was shrouded in a raging storm, the rain pouring so heavily that it was nearly impossible to keep one's eyes open.

Yet, the torrential rain could not extinguish the burning anger in Princess Helaena's heart.

She circled above the castle on her red dragon, shouting curses down at her uncle, accusing him of murdering her child.

Her behavior was undeniably foolish and unnecessary, but considering that she was a mother who had just lost her child, her actions were somewhat understandable.

Prince Aegon, however, did not engage with his niece. He simply ordered the castle gates shut, pretending not to hear her furious accusations.

But while he could choose to ignore her, someone else would not.

High above Storm's End, as Helaena vented her fury, she seemed to have forgotten the events of five years prior—when she had grievously injured a boy at this very place.

That boy was Daeron, the son of Prince Aegon.

The young man, disfigured and maimed by Firecloud's flames years ago, had never forgotten the pain and suffering caused by the cruel princess.

So, when Daeron saw Helaena's figure appear once more in the skies above Storm's End, he wasted no time. Mounting his own dragon, a black beast named Shadowwing, he launched himself into the storm.

Under Daeron's command, Shadowwing streaked through the air like a bolt of black lightning, hurtling straight toward the red dragon.

Caught off guard, Firecloud was struck hard, its right flank torn open by a massive gash that nearly sliced through its entire body.

But Daeron would not stop there. Driven by an all-consuming desire for revenge, he pressed his attack relentlessly, commanding Shadowwing to unleash a barrage of deadly blows on both the red dragon and Princess Helaena.

Above Storm's End, black and red dragons clashed violently. Fireballs exploded mid-air, their dazzling brilliance temporarily overpowering the storm's thunder and lightning.

When Prince Aegon realized the situation had spiraled out of control, he hastily mounted his own dragon, Balerion, and rushed to intervene. But by the time he reached the battlefield, the red dragon Firecloud was already spiraling downward in defeat.

The red dragon plummeted toward the rocky cliffs by the sea, crashing with such force that the entire castle seemed to tremble.

As he pushed through the smoke and dust, Prince Aegon saw the broken form of Firecloud, barely clinging to life. Its wings were shredded, its ribs pierced through its body, and its internal organs spilled gruesomely from its torn abdomen.

Nearby lay the charred remains of Princess Helaena, her body so mangled and burned it was unrecognizable.

For a moment, Prince Aegon stood in stunned silence, staring at the lifeless body of the King's only daughter.

Five years ago, when Princess Helaena had burned his son, he had sworn vengeance, proclaiming, "Blood for blood, fire for fire." Now, his words had come true in the most bitterly ironic way.

But Aegon also understood that Helaena's death had shattered the fragile peace within the Caesar family. The long-standing tensions and resentments, simmering beneath the surface for years, had now erupted uncontrollably.

War, it seemed, was no longer avoidable.

(End of Chapter)