A few days later
King's Landing, 95 AC
The Queen's Chambers
Rhaegar stood by the open balcony doors, letting the breeze off the Blackwater cool his face. At thirteen, his features were beginning to shed their childhood softness. He was tall for his age, lean and had some muscle developing, courtesy of his dear father's regular beatdown in the training yard and possessed the classic Targaryen beauty that often made the young ladies at court stare a moment too long.
But right now, his attention was on the city below. Even from this height, King's Landing looked different than it had three years ago. It was denser and louder.
"The City Watch sent another report this morning," Alysanne said from her desk, not looking up from the parchment she was reading. "Two more massive brawls near the Iron Gate this week. Westerosi blacksmiths fighting with Lyseni ones."
Rhaegar turned back to the room. "Too much competition in too little time. Such things were bound to happen."
Alysanne sighed, rubbing her temples. "We have at least thirty thousand new people in the city since the Consortium began. And that is just an estimate. It doesn't sound like much against half a million, but they aren't spreading out. They are clustering."
"The 'Eastern Rush', they call it," she said, tracing the district near the Dragon Gate. "Merchants from Lys, artisans from Volantis, runaways from Tyrosh. They all have silver hair and purple eyes, and they all think they can belong here because we do."
"They came for the stability," Rhaegar said. "And the absence of chains around their necks. If they feel safer under our patronage than in their own birthplaces, then it can only be taken as a compliment."
"A compliment it may be, but what about the smallfolk, Rhaegar?" Alysanne countered. "They are already driving up rents and crowding the markets. The locals see silver hair and hear Valyrian in the streets, and they feel like they are being replaced in their own city. The High Septon has already complained that the city is becoming 'too foreign.'"
Rhaegar poured himself a cup of water. "Well, grandmother, the High Septon complains when the wind blows the wrong way. And these immigrants are skilled labour. The blacksmiths, the shipwrights, the weavers, the artisans, all of them. We would be fools to turn them away."
Rhaegar set the cup down. "But you are right about the overcrowding. We need to manage it," he said as he made his way towards the table.
"How?"
"The anger stems from competition for limited space. The Guilds feel threatened because they are fighting for the same customers within the same area. We need to change that."
He ran his hands over the city map laid on the table. "We can expand the walls here," Rhaegar said, tracing a line north of the Lion Gate. "Open up the land. Commission the immigrant artisans to build a new district. And they can build their own homes that suit their fancy. Give them tax incentives to settle there, away from the likes of Flea Bottom."
He looked at his grandmother.
"We employ the Guilds to supply the raw materials, stone, and timber. The immigrants build the district, the locals supply the materials. Both sides profit from the expansion. If their bellies are full with our coin, they will have much less intention to scream at each other."
Alysanne studied him for a moment before sighing.
"You make it sound simple," she said.
"It is not simple," Rhaegar corrected. "It is expensive. But we have the gold. We should use it to buy order before things spiral to bloodshed."
At that moment, a knock came on the chamber's doors. Alysanne beckoned the person in. A courtier entered and left after whispering something in her ear for a brief moment.
Alysanne let out a breath and gestured him to the door. "Go on. Your grandfather wants to see you. I suspect he has different worries on his mind."
Rhaegar walked behind the table and hugged her from the side to his shoulder. "I will draft a proposal to Uncle Aemon regarding this. I am sure the Master of Laws will have a few plans of his own."
Alysanne just smiled and waved at him to leave.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________
The walk to the King's solar was quiet. Rhaegar kept his hands clasped behind his back. He knew why Jaehaerys had summoned him.
When he entered the solar, the Old King was seated at a small table by the hearth. A cyvasse board sat between two empty chairs, and a pitcher of wine waited on a tray.
"Grandfather," Rhaegar greeted.
"Rhaegar." Jaehaerys gestured to the chair opposite him. "Sit. Pour us some wine."
Rhaegar did as he was told, filling the goblets with a rich Arbor Gold. He took his seat, his eyes scanning the board. The pieces were already set up.
They played in silence for a few moves. Rhaegar moved his heavy horse; Jaehaerys countered with a crossbowman. The game had become a familiar routine between them now, a way to communicate without speaking.
"Your grandmother tells me the city is getting crowded," Jaehaerys said, moving a spearman.
"Expansion requires space," Rhaegar replied, moving a spearman. "We are handling it."
"Good." Jaehaerys took a sip of wine. "Because we have problems beyond the walls."
He reached into his tunic and placed a small, unsealed scroll of parchment on the table. It was likely a report from an informant.
"From our contact in Tyrosh," Jaehaerys said.
Rhaegar didn't need to open it. He knew what it would say. But he unrolled it anyway, and it said what he already knew.
"The Triarchy," Rhaegar said, after reading the parchment.
"That is what they call themselves," Jaehaerys confirmed. "The Kingdom of the Three Daughters. An eternal alliance. They have been cutting each other's throats over the Disputed Lands for a century. And now they call themselves a brotherhood."
Rhaegar chuckled.
The Old King moved his dragon piece, capturing Rhaegar's elephant.
"You knew this would happen," he stated. It wasn't a question.
Rhaegar looked at the board. "I suspected that they would do something of the like to eventually drive out Volantis from the disputed lands, and we only seem to have hastened their bonding."
"They are placing a fleet in the Stepstones. To 'rid them of piracy and secure the trade lanes,' they say."
"They obviously mean to tax them," Rhaegar said. "They can't beat our prices, so they'll try to bleed us at the choke point."
"Precisely." Jaehaerys moved his heavy horse. "If they control the Stepstones, they control the gate to the Narrow Sea. We have over a hundred ships. If they demand a toll for every one of them..."
"It will be expensive," Rhaegar finished.
"Beesbury thinks we should pay the toll when they demand it," Jaehaerys said, watching Rhaegar. "He believes our margins can absorb the cost to maintain peace."
"And Corlys?" Rhaegar asked.
"Well, as you would expect, Corlys wants to sail to the islands and sink every single ship of theirs."
Rhaegar moved his elephant. "We can't fight them yet. Not openly. If we attack while they claim to be hunting pirates, we look like the aggressors. It could turn the other Free Cities against us."
"So, you suggest we pay their tolls?"
"We let them establish the toll," Rhaegar said. "Let them get comfortable. Wait for them to overreach."
Jaehaerys narrowed his eyes. "There is more. Reports mention visitors in Sunspear."
"Expected," said Rhaegar.
"Only the gods know what they are whispering in the Martell's ear."
"Something along the lines of gold, trade rights, and an alliance against the 'Dragon's Tyranny', if I had to venture a guess," Rhaegar replied.
The room went silent.
"If Dorne joins them," Jaehaerys said gravely, "we are encircled."
Rhaegar looked at the board. His king was safe, but his dragon was positioned aggressively.
"They have hated us for nearly a hundred years," Rhaegar said quietly. "It is natural they would listen to them."
"We could send an envoy," Jaehaerys mused. "Try to talk the princess down. Offer her terms."
"We can try," Rhaegar said, taking a sip of his wine. "But if I were Mara Martell, I wouldn't listen. If they see a chance to choke us. They will take it."
Jaehaerys studied his grandson. "You accept this very easily."
"I accept the board as it is, Grandfather," Rhaegar replied. "If Dorne joins the Triarchy, the political terrain simplifies. It becomes us against them. No more neutral parties."
Jaehaerys sighed, leaning back in his chair. "So, War it is then."
"War it is," Rhaegar replied.