The next morning dawned beneath a sky of pale steel.
Prince Aegon moved swiftly through his council chamber, issuing decrees one after another with the calm efficiency of a man long accustomed to command. Messengers hurried from the hall, seals still warm in their hands, while scribes bent low over parchment, their quills scratching without pause. By midday, the city beyond the walls had erupted.
Crowds flooded the streets and squares, shouting his name until their voices turned hoarse. Banners were raised, cups were emptied, and rumors grew faster than wine could be poured. To the smallfolk, Aegon had become a living promise. To Aegon himself, it was noise.
His expression scarcely changed.
What mattered was Tyrosh.
He stood at the long table, one hand resting on the carved edge, fingers tapping twice before stilling. "Hugh and I will be gone no more than three days," he said, his voice even. "Tyrosh must be dealt with personally."
Kraken stood opposite him, broad-shouldered and weathered, a veteran of a dozen questionable ventures. He inclined his head. "Your orders, Your Highness."
"From today onward," Aegon continued, turning his gaze fully upon the man, "all ships belonging to House Velaryon are to be impounded. Use the charge of transporting dangerous goods. Salt, wildfire residue, smuggled arms. Choose what you like."
Kraken blinked. "All of them?"
"All of them."
Aegon straightened, the faintest curve of a smile touching his lips. "No release without a full inspection. If someone comes with a seal, refuse them. If someone comes with threats, refuse them. Even if the King himself commands it, the ships do not pass."
Kraken hesitated, then nodded. "Understood."
He rubbed his beard, studying Aegon's face. "Your Highness, are you preparing to move against House Velaryon?"
Aegon's smile sharpened. He leaned back against the table, folding his arms. "Not against House Velaryon. Against my dear aunt. I need her."
For a second, Kraken stared. His mouth twitched, and he shifted his weight from one foot to the other before speaking again, his tone cautious. "Princess Rhaenys is… still a striking woman, Your Highness. But she is no longer young."
Aegon raised an eyebrow.
Kraken hurried on, flushing slightly. "If Your Highness has certain needs, I have a daughter who has just seen her fifteenth nameday. She is comely enough, and obedient."
The room went very still.
Aegon stared at him in silence, his eyes flat.
Kraken swallowed.
"Get lost," Aegon said.
Kraken recoiled a half step.
Aegon exhaled through his nose, then waved a dismissive hand. "The Blacks are preparing to move against Dorne. I am merely offering them a small, open scheme in return. A gift, if you like. One that costs me very little."
Understanding dawned slowly on Kraken's face. He let out a long breath and laughed, relief plain in the slump of his shoulders. "Seven save me. You frightened me half to death."
He shook his head. "I thought you meant to dishonor Princess Rhaenys just to spite Corlys. That would be madness."
Aegon's eyes flickered. "Corlys is not a man to be toyed with," he agreed calmly.
Kraken nodded fervently. "The realm would howl, and the Sea Snake would come at you like a wounded leviathan. He would never stop."
"I am well aware," Aegon replied. "Which is why I am not doing that."
With the matter settled, preparations were swift. Before the sun reached its zenith, Aegon and Hugh boarded a black-hulled warship bound east. Neither chose to ride their dragons. Instead, the fleet cut through the waves in disciplined formation, oars beating like a single heart.
Above them, Sunfyre wheeled in slow, gleaming arcs, his golden scales catching the light. Farther back, Sheepstealer circled with lazier strokes, his dark wings casting brief shadows across the sea.
At the prow, Aegon leaned against the railing, one boot braced forward. The wind tugged at his silver hair, strands breaking loose and dancing across his brow. He watched the horizon, eyes narrowed.
"Half a year," he said quietly. "It has taken nearly half a year, but the Stepstones are finally mine."
Hugh stood beside him, hands clasped behind his back. His scarred face held open admiration. "When the announcement is made, the realm will be shaken. Others bled for years and gained nothing. You united the Stepstones in months."
Aegon did not answer at once.
Hugh continued, his voice steady. "History will remember this, Your Highness."
Aegon glanced at him, amusement flickering briefly in his eyes. "History remembers victors."
Hugh smiled faintly. He believed, with absolute certainty, that the young man before him was a king the Targaryens saw only once in a century. To serve him was not humiliation, but honor. The gold and titles mattered, yes, but more than that was Aegon's willingness to judge men by merit rather than birth.
After a moment, Hugh cleared his throat. "There is something I must report."
Aegon turned his head slightly, signaling him to continue.
"The news of Sheepstealer," Hugh said, lowering his gaze, "has spread. That I, a man of no great name, claimed a wild dragon."
His hands curled into fists. "There are those with silver hair and purple eyes who now believe themselves chosen. They are seeking the other two wild dragons. This is my fault."
Shame colored his voice.
Aegon studied him for a long moment, then laughed softly.
"I thought you were about to confess treason," he said. "If men wish to die chasing dragons, that is hardly your sin."
He looked back to the sea, Sunfyre's shadow passing briefly over the deck.
"Let them try," Aegon added. "The fire will teach them what ambition truly costs."
"Whoever wishes to tame a dragon may try," Aegon said calmly. "It does not matter if they fail. And if they succeed, we will simply find the right moment to remove them."
Hugh stiffened.
Aegon turned from the railing to face him fully, his expression no longer amused. His voice lowered, deliberate, every word weighed. "You must understand this, Hugh. Taming a dragon does not end when the beast bends its neck."
He stepped closer, close enough that Hugh could feel the authority pressing down on him like heat from a forge.
"If the one who claimed Sheepstealer had been anyone other than you, I would have had him killed the same day."