The Tyroshi were cunning and greedy, but even so, they could not all be slaughtered.
If Aegon were free to act entirely as he pleased, he would have sided with Loren without hesitation. Fear was a far cleaner tool than mercy.
But Daeron was right.
Keeping tens of thousands of people alive merely to feed the dragons is madness, Aegon thought. And this is only the beginning. Essos still lies ahead.
He lifted his gaze and spoke decisively.
"We will proceed as I have said. Anyone who owns more than forty-nine slaves will be deemed a slave master and executed without exception."
He paused, letting the weight of the decree settle.
"And it will not be us who wield the blade. The killings will be carried out by the rebel army under Hidolf. Ser Arryk need not burden himself with that concern."
The matter was settled.
In truth, Aegon had once intended to execute every slave owner, even those with a single slave. But Myr and Lys still awaited conquest. Tyrosh would serve as precedent, not warning alone.
Kraken inclined his head, then spoke again. "Your Highness, there is another issue."
Aegon gestured for him to continue.
"Manpower. Our forces are already stretched thin. Who will we send to govern and secure Tyrosh?"
Aegon rubbed his chin, his brow creasing. This, at least, was a genuine difficulty.
"Promote from within," he said at last. "Select ordinary soldiers from the Dragonstone First Fleet. Men who proved themselves brave and quick-witted in battle."
His gaze shifted to Ser Hugh. "Compile a list after the feast."
Hugh placed a fist over his chest. "It will be done."
The remaining details were discussed at length. Only when all matters were resolved did Aegon finally announce the banquet's true beginning.
Laughter returned to the hall. Wine flowed freely.
By the time the guests departed, night had deepened into silence.
Aegon washed quickly and retired to his chambers.
Helaena was already half-asleep, yet the moment he lay beside her, she instinctively curled against him, her forehead resting beneath his chin.
Darkness closed in.
Aegon dreamed.
He was no longer flesh and bone, but Sunfyre, golden wings spread wide beneath the dawn sky. Heat coursed through his veins, ancient and instinctive.
Dreamfyre circled him, pale and shimmering, her presence insistent, wordless, impossible to ignore.
Instinct overwhelmed reason.
The two dragons entwined amid cloud and fire, their roars shaking the world until the light of morning pierced the dream.
Aegon jolted awake, breath ragged, cold sweat clinging to his skin.
"Seven hells," he muttered, wiping his brow. "Only a dream."
"Mmm."
Helaena stirred.
Aegon turned his head and froze.
Her cheeks were flushed, lashes trembling, brows drawn together as though caught between waking and sleep.
Something was wrong.
Slowly, Helaena opened her eyes and looked at him, her gaze unfocused and innocent.
Then realization struck.
With a soft gasp, she vanished beneath the covers, curling into herself like a startled kitten.
Her face burned. She had dreamed of it too. The entire night.
It was unbearably embarrassing.
"Did you dream of something?" Aegon asked gently, patting the small, trembling shape beneath the blankets.
"No. No!" Helaena replied at once, her voice muffled.
Aegon smiled faintly. "All right. If you did not, then you did not. Come, get up."
"You dress first," she said. "Go wait outside."
"Why so shy all of a sudden?"
Before she could answer, Aegon lifted the covers.
Helaena stared at him with wide, startled eyes. A heartbeat later, she lunged forward, tackling him back onto the bed.
Laughter echoed through the chamber.
They did not finish dressing until the sun was fully risen.
Within the Dragonpit, a soldier stood frozen in place.
Sunfyre, Vhagar, Sheepstealer, and Tessarion blocked the passage, their massive forms pressed together like a living wall of scales and fire.
Arturo took a cautious step forward.
Before his foot touched the ground, Vhagar's jaws opened, flame building deep within her throat.
Arturo stepped back at once.
He did not look back until he had left the Dragonpit entirely.
The report reached Aegon within the hour.
He summoned the riders immediately.
Together, they returned to the Dragonpit. All four dragons were indeed guarding the entrance.
Aegon closed his eyes and reached inward, entering the dragon-spirit state.
Sunfyre.
The golden dragon answered.
At their riders' calls, Tessarion and Sheepstealer withdrew. Vhagar hesitated, her massive head lowering toward Aemond, who spoke firmly at her side.
At last, she obeyed.
The passage cleared.
Inside, Dreamfyre lay curled in the far corner, asleep so deeply she did not stir when Helaena entered.
"Dreamfyre?" Helaena called softly.
A low rumble answered her, drowsy and faint.
Aegon stepped closer, his expression troubled.
"Aegon," Helaena whispered. "She looks weak. How could this happen?"
He hesitated, then leaned close to her ear.
"You dreamed of becoming Dreamfyre last night," he murmured. "That was real."
Helaena's face flushed crimson as memory surfaced. The sky. Dragonstone below. The feeling of wings.
"I will explain later," Aegon said quietly. "For now, let her rest."
He took her hand and signaled the others to leave.
As they departed, Aegon glanced back.
Vhagar had returned to her post, guarding the passage once more.
Confusion stirred in his mind.
Since when did dragons guard a female after mating?
The maesters of the Citadel held three theories regarding dragon sex. That it changed at will. That dragons were both male and female. Or that the distinction was fixed.
Aegon knew the truth.
Dragons had sex. Dragons mated.
Yet one thing was certain.
Dragon flocks did not guard a mated female.
Vermithor guarded Silverwing and her eggs. He guarded no others.
But now four dragons stood watch over Dreamfyre.
This had never been recorded.
And that unsettled him more than anything else.
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A/N:
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