Chapter 504: Aemond Is Also Crazy

"Your Grace, Rhaena is Prince Daemon's daughter. Don't you think it's wrong for her to inherit Driftmark?" Malentine's voice cut through the room, turning the bickering towards Rhaegar.

Rhaegar watched with boredom, his interest piqued only when the topic shifted to him. Malentine, eyes fixed on the young king, continued with righteous indignation, "House Targaryen and House Velaryon have been steadfast allies since the days of ancient Valyria. Together, we have survived the Doom."

The words were spoken with boldness and bravado. Rhaegar frowned and finished the thought, "But?"

"But!" Malentine echoed with confidence.

Seeing him so emboldened, Sea Snake realized the danger and warned sharply, "Watch your words when you talk to the king!"

"Uncle, are you afraid?" Malentine smirked, mistaking his uncle's caution for fear.

Sea Snake's expression remained stony.

Rhaenys shook her head, her smile fading. "Oh, there's your good nephew," she remarked, "A bunch of people with high aspirations, not as good as my son."

Malentine glared at her, pointing an accusing finger. "The once contender for the Iron Throne, the Queen Who Never Was, full empty promises," he spat. "Velaryon gave everything to support you, but you failed to return the favor!"

Before Rhaenys could respond, Sea Snake's fury erupted. "Malentine, if you don't want to lose your tongue, stop this madness!"

Rhaenys's contributions to Velaryon were beyond mere fame and fortune, and Sea Snake knew it.

Realising he had gone too far, the Malentine fell silent, a cold sneer on his face.

"Coward," Rhaenys sneered back, "Blaming women for your failures to mask your incompetence."

The nobles who supported Viserys's rise to power outnumbered her supporters twenty to one. The majesty of the royal family remained unshaken. Even if House Velaryon threw its full weight, it would still be like a fish out of water.

Malentine, no longer pestering his aunt and uncle, turned his focus back to Rhaegar on the driftwood throne.

"Ser, tell me everything you haven't said," Rhaegar prompted kindly, encouraging him to speak.

Below, Sea Snake closed his eyes, bracing for the worst.

Malentine, oblivious to his blunders, pressed on, "With Rhaena inheriting Driftmark, is it the Crown's intention to meddle in Velaryon's succession?"

Rhaegar, intrigued, replied, "Do you think the royal family is planting a member just to steal House Velaryon's power?"

"With all due respect, Your Grace," Malentine strained his neck, emphasizing his point, "Rhaena is Daemon's daughter and betrothed to your youngest brother. This is Targaryen's way of doing injustice to a fellow ancient Valyria descendant."

Rhaegar leaned forward slightly, his smile not reaching his eyes. "The daughter of Daemon, as you call her, is also of Laena's bloodline," he said.

In the end, Rhaena continues the Sea Snake's legacy.

Malentine gathered his courage and spoke bluntly, "There is still blood left in the men of Velaryon, and there is no need for a passed-over daughter!"

"Very good," Rhaegar clapped his hands together and grinned. "Finally, a true thought."

"Your Grace," Malentine stammered, still trying to assert his position.

Rhaenys sneered, "I should really call Laena and Daemon back to see how their reputations have been swept away."

The two Dragonriders were being manipulated at will, yet they hadn't returned to Driftmark to defend their daughter.

Rhaegar's decision was made. He leaned toward Rhaenyra and whispered, "It's been a long time sitting here. Would you like to go rest?"

"Absolutely," Rhaenyra agreed, rising gracefully. "Don't forget to check on Visenya later."

"No problem." Rhaegar watched her leave with a smile that faded as soon as she was out of sight.

He stepped down from the driftwood throne and beckoned Helaena to his side. Passing Sea Snake, he spoke with a grim expression, "I don't want to hear from them again, Lord Corlys."

Ignoring the Velaryons' cries of protest, Rhaegar exited the hall. The corridor featured a mural of a three-masted ship riding the waves, a tribute to the Sea Snake's voyages.

Rhaegar glanced at the mural and remarked sadly, "Even the greatest of ships will decay one day."

House Velaryon's glory stemmed from Sea Snake Corlys. Who would uphold Velaryon's seahorse banner when he passed away?

Helaena bowed her head in silence.

As the siblings left the gate, guards rushed into the Hall of Nine.

"No! No!"

"Your Grace, you can't do this to us..."

"Uncle..."

Rhaegar walked down the stairs, the mournful yells behind him dissolving into wails of pain.

"Uncle, I curse you! You shall be cut off from your children!" Malentine's spiteful screams echoed, filled with fear, then abruptly stopped. Only a vague wail remained.

Without looking back, Rhaegar sighed, "The Sea Snake has its moments of mercy."

After all, they were his nephews and he couldn't bring himself to kill them. Kinslayers are cursed.

Upset, Rhaegar asked, "Where did Aemond go?"

He needed an executioner for his will, and his brother's absence was keenly felt.

Helaena, still dazed and confused, suddenly spoke, "The dragon is bleeding."

"What?" Rhaegar's face changed, his nerves instantly tightening.

...

Hull.

Baela led the way as several children arrived at the bustling harbor, playing and fooling around.

"Look, there's the Sea Snake," Rhaena said with a smile, pointing to the large ship under repair.

Baelon looked puzzled. "Huh, that's the Sea Snake? We saw it yesterday when we were here."

The weathered old ship bore no visible signs of its legendary past.

"Come on, I'll show you around," Baela, the big sister, called out, leading her little followers onto the ship.

The entire harbor was her grandfather's domain, and being there felt like being at home—no one dared to obstruct them.

A few of the kids managed to blend in on the ship. The deck was bustling with hardworking sailors.

Some hung ropes to clean barnacles from the hull, others fetched water to wash blood from the decks, and some hammered away, making repairs. Everyone was busy with their tasks.

Seeing such a scene for the first time, Baelon looked around curiously, excitement in his eyes.

"Can I look inside?" Baelon asked, eager to explore the blackened cabin.

"Sure," Baela replied confidently, tapping her chest once. She led Baelon and Aemon toward the cabin while Rhaena stayed behind, holding Maekar, who seemed uninterested.

"Let's go to the back of the boat," Rhaena suggested, "where the fishermen are casting nets for fish."

Maekar's eyes were dull, but he allowed the big sister to lead the way.

Soon, the group went their separate ways.

Near the cabin door, a silver-haired, dark-skinned lad sat on the floor, straddling a board to remove nails. In Westeros, where productivity was low, any ironwork was precious.

"Addam, fix the deck," the old shipwright called from the sidelines.

"Coming, Master Mance," the boy replied, his face lighting up with joy as he switched tasks. As an apprentice, he cherished any hands-on experience.

"Have a good look around; I'll go check on the materials," the old shipwright, a tall man, said, turning and walking off the boat.

Addam watched his master's back with delight, easily satisfied. Suddenly, unfamiliar faces caught his attention.

"Huh?" Addam frowned.

A dozen men dressed as porters came aboard, carrying various materials on their shoulders.

Addam was puzzled. "Is there a change in the shipyard labor?"

He couldn't figure it out but decided to keep an eye on them. Even though Lord Corlys's harbor rarely had any accidents, it was always best to be cautious.

...

Dark Alleys, in a Brothel

"Aegon, don't run if you have the guts! I'll break your legs myself!"

A furious roar echoed down the candle-lit hallway. Aemond burst out of the room, sword in hand, his one eye blood-red with rage, looking as if he wanted to devour someone.

He was running so fast he hadn't even dressed properly, a hastily tied scarf around his waist exposing his scarred, white-striped body.

Aegon, in a panic, turned and bolted, shoving people out of his way and cursing, "Bastard, I'm your brother!"

"Shut up and don't insult the word 'brother!'" Aemond shouted, barefoot and wild-eyed, swinging his sword. "You're a stupid pig, always bullying your own brother without a shred of decency."

"Bullshit! The first time you visited a whorehouse, it was because of me," Aegon shot back, dodging down the hall. "Don't forget, I paid for your deflowering!"

Even if the other party is a pimp, you still need to pay to get down in person. Aegon cursed the black-hearted brothel for charging him for his brother's experience.

The thought of this made Aemond even angrier. "How dare you bring up old matters with me!" he screamed, slashing wildly with his sword.

The brothers chased each other, cold steel flashing in the dim light. Patrons and prostitutes alike squealed in fear, scrambling to avoid the flying blades.

Daeron, recovering from his shock, rushed to stop Aemond, his hands cold and trembling. "I'm the one who wanted to come and see! We're all brothers; let's go back and talk this out."

Even if Aemond wanted to kill Aegon, he'd need approval from their elder brother Rhaegar. Making a scene in a brothel was a disgrace the royal family couldn't afford.

"Fuck off!" Aemond, consumed by anger, shoved the slender Daeron aside. "What do you know? Get out of my way."

Still holding onto a shred of sanity, Aemond didn't take his anger out on his youngest brother. But the feud with Aegon was far from settled.

Daeron fell to the ground, almost landing in the lap of a naked whore. In desperation, he shouted, "Honor! The honor of the family!"

(Word Count: 1,594)