Chapter 73 — Armistice Agreement, Prophecy Approaches
The bells of the Great Sept tolled softly as Daemon stood beside Princess Saera Targaryen, watching her expression while his thoughts drifted back to the Green Dream he had seen on Brokenheart Isle.
A silver-haired mermaid with violet eyes, surrounded by serpents, lizards, and faceless hounds, tearing into a wounded dragon pierced by arrows.
Saera had silver hair and violet eyes.
And the Lysene ship that brought her home—Dragon's Slave—had borne a mermaid figurehead carved in her likeness.
It was hard not to see omens everywhere.
Dorne and the Triarchy had openly threatened to kill every living Dragonrider:
Jaehaerys, Baelon, Rhaenys, and Daemon himself.
Craghas Drahar had captured Saera from a brothel in Volantis… and Saera's hatred for her father and House Targaryen ran deep. It was easy to imagine her striking a bargain in exchange for a crown, revenge, or freedom.
And now she returned to Westeros demanding to ride Silverwing—Queen Alysanne's dragon—barely a year after Alysanne's death.
Daemon's suspicion hardened.
A prostitute princess riding a dragon? The symbolism would shatter the sanctity of dragons. And if she had sold herself to Craghas or Volantis, the danger was immeasurable.
Saera broke his thoughts.
"Can I stay in the Great Sept?" she asked eagerly. "I've waited years to meet Sister Annie—author of Confessions of a Red Chamber!"
Daemon sighed inwardly but gave the order.
---
Sister Annie Arrives
Sister Annie—formerly Coryanne Wylde—entered with Monk Eustace at her side.
Though wrinkled now, she still carried a strange, magnetic charm.
She lit up when she saw Saera.
Two women of noble birth.
Two women forced into the Faith.
Two women who had fled into brothels and pleasure houses.
Two women who survived men and gods alike.
They embraced like long-lost sisters and disappeared into the Great Sept, gossiping as though they had known each other for years.
Daemon remained outside with Monk Eustace.
"Saera has been in exile for half her life," Daemon whispered. "No one knows whom she met or whom she serves. I want every monk and septa in this place watching her."
Eustace bowed deeply.
Daemon then summoned:
Steward Amonlin the Monk
Captain Richard Storm of the Flame Castle Guard
Raven Greyjoy, commander of the Blackwater Fleet
And his own spy, Mysaria—White Worm
Mysaria, pale-skinned and still barely more than a girl, stood beside him on the battlements of Flame Castle as they watched Saera and Sister Annie strolling below.
"Prince Daemon," she said, "Saera is alone. Even if she wished to betray you, how much can she truly accomplish?"
Daemon gave her a sideways glance.
Mysaria continued, her voice low:
"At the docks, in taverns, even in Silk Street… there are whispers. Dornish assassins have slipped into King's Landing. Poisoners from Myr. Lys alchemists. Qartheen Regretful Guests. Tyroshi blades-for-hire. And… possibly… someone from the Faceless Men."
King's Landing had become a nest of vipers.
Daemon clenched his jaw.
Even Aly Rivers and Terra Uller—both gifted with green dreams—could not find every assassin among hundreds of thousands.
"We must still treat this as bluster," Daemon said, though he barely believed his own words. "But double the Kingsguard watch. Poison kills faster than swords."
Mysaria nodded.
The delegations would arrive soon.
And assassins might already be among them.
---
Prophecy Under the Weirwood
That night, Daemon visited the Godswood of Flame Castle.
Aly Rivers and Terra Uller stood before the pale face of the heart tree, both wrapped in cloaks concealing their pregnant bellies—both carrying Daemon's children.
"I saw dragons falling in my dream," Daemon murmured. "Can it be prevented?"
Terra shook her head softly.
"Green Dreams are the will of gods. They do not lie."
Daemon's chest tightened.
"Which dragon dies?"
Aly Rivers' voice echoed like a curse:
"Bronze will melt. Silver will fall. Fire will turn to ash. All mortals must die. Spring dawn cannot endure the winter's bite."
Daemon felt the old gods watching.
---
Delegations Arrive
Within days, the harbor filled with ships.
The Pentoshi Prince Cicipas arrived in person.
The Sea Lord of Braavos sent his special envoy, Perkins.
And from the Triarchy came three envoys:
Greenbeard Grimles of Tyrosh
Bogdan of Lys
Fontana of Myr
Dorne sent Marlon Uller, representing Prince Qoren Martell.
Hundreds of foreigners gathered—prime camouflage for assassins.
Daemon remained near Baelon, hand on Dark Sister, eyes scanning every face.
---
The Armistice of the Stepstones
In the Throne Room beneath the Iron Throne, the peace was sealed.
The Stepstones were divided:
Northwest & West → the Iron Throne
Southwest → Dorne
East & South → the Triarchy
All parties swore not to raise tariffs or block trade.
Viserys whispered happily:
"Peace at last."
Daemon snorted.
"You are naïve, brother. This is a pause, not an ending. The Stepstones will burn again."
Ryam Redwyne, Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, added:
"For now, at least, no one was poisoned."
Daemon kept his silence.
He didn't trust it.
---
Saera Moves to Claim Silverwing
Raven Greyjoy approached at a run, breathless.
"Prince Daemon. It's Princess Saera. She's gone to the Dragonpit. She means to ride Silverwing."
Daemon felt cold dread.
If Saera had any pact with the Triarchy, stealing a dragon now—right after the delegations had sailed—was the perfect timing.
He went straight to Jaehaerys and Baelon.
Jaehaerys's face darkened.
"Silverwing belonged to Alysanne. She is a symbol of my queen. I will not allow Saera to ride her."
"What if she forces it?" Daemon asked carefully.
After a long silence, Jaehaerys whispered:
"If Saera attempts to mount Silverwing… arrest her. Send her to the Great Sept. Let her take the Silent Sister's veil."
The order was absolute.
Daemon left immediately.
Caraxes descended upon Flame Castle like a storm. Daemon mounted, and the Blood Wyrm soared over Aegon's High Hill toward the Dragonpit.
---
At the Bronze Gates of the Dragonpit
Princess Saera arrived dressed in crimson Lysene silk, swaying with confidence. Many Dragonkeepers did not recognize her—after twenty years in Essosi brothels, she looked more like a Silk Street courtesan than a princess.
"Prostitute," one young keeper called out. "How much for a night?"
Captain Delaine growled, "No soliciting at the Dragonpit."
Saera laughed richly.
"You have sharp eyes. I was indeed a prostitute. But I am also Princess Saera Targaryen, daughter of King Jaehaerys."
Every keeper froze.
Captain Delaine stammered, "Your… Highness… why are you here?"
"To see Silverwing," she said. "My mother's dragon."
"But Prince Daemon forbade entry—"
Saera snapped:
"I played in the Dragonpit before Daemon was born. Move."
At that moment, Caraxes swooped down, shaking the ground.
Daemon dismounted.
"Aunt Saera," he said calmly. "If you want to enter the Dragonpit, I will accompany you."
"I don't need your escort," she hissed. "I will ride Silverwing. It is my birthright."
Daemon stepped closer.
"Dragons are dangerous. You carry the scents of a dozen nations from Silk Street to Volantis. Dragons might see you as foreign—and burn you alive."
Saera's jaw tightened.
"When I was a girl, Mother took me flying. Silverwing knows me. Your parents had dragons. You have a dragon. Even Viserys—dragonless, timid Viserys—once rode Balerion. Why am I the only one denied?"
Daemon smiled coldly.
"Aunt… you never claimed a dragon as a child. Doing it now may get you eaten."
Saera's eyes flashed.
And behind her, the massive dome of the Dragonpit loomed—Silverwing waiting inside.
The moment of truth had come.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
If you like the story please give it some power stones and reviews. And if you want to read 30+ advance chapters or just want to support me please join my patreon at [email protected]/Translatingfanfics