Driftmark, High Tide
The Sea Snake's temper broke like a wave against rock.
Corlys Velaryon seized Vaemond by the collar and hurled him down onto the cold stone floor. The echo rang through the hall, sharp as breaking oars.
"Do you have any notion," Corlys thundered, looming over him, "what the cargo of twenty merchant ships is worth?"
Vaemond struck the ground hard, breath knocked from his chest. He pushed himself up, straightened his tunic with stiff fingers, and then dropped to one knee before the Lord of the Tides. His head bowed, yet resentment burned unmistakably in the tight set of his jaw.
"And you return to me like this," Corlys continued, voice rising, "with nothing but excuses and empty hands?"
Vaemond said nothing.
The silence only fed Corlys's fury. He drew breath to continue, his hand already clenched, but before another word could fall, a calm voice cut across the hall.
"Corlys."
Rhaenys Targaryen lowered the letter she had been reading. Her silver-gold hair framed a face grave with thought rather than fear.
"Read this," she said, extending the parchment toward her husband. "Aegon's target is me. This affair has nothing to do with Vaemond."
Her eyes flicked briefly to the kneeling man. The message was unmistakable.
Vaemond rose at once. He did not meet Corlys's gaze as he backed away, his footsteps measured, restrained. When the doors closed behind him, the hall felt suddenly smaller.
Corlys forced himself to breathe. He took the letter from Rhaenys and read. With every line, the color drained from his face, his mouth tightening until it was little more than a scar.
"That little beast," he growled at last, crushing the parchment in his fist. "Rhaenys, you cannot go to Drakoncrest."
"If I do not," Rhaenys replied quietly, "what becomes of Driftmark's trade?"
Corlys turned on her. "Let the Stepstones choke on their own chaos. They are barren rocks, nothing more."
"They are rocks that command the sea-lanes," Rhaenys said. She folded her hands before her, composed but unyielding. "A lawless Stepstones is troublesome. A stable Stepstones is decisive. If Aegon closes those waters, more than half the trade between Westeros and Essos will wither overnight."
She stepped closer, her voice lowering. "And Driftmark lies in Blackwater Bay. Cut off the Stepstones, and our strength will bleed away with the tide."
Corlys looked aside, jaw working.
Rhaenys reached for his hand, her grip firm and warm. "You have sailed nine great voyages," she said, her tone softening. "You made House Velaryon the richest house in the realm. This time, let me sail for our family."
His hand tightened around hers. "It is not the same. Aegon summons you alone to Drakoncrest. There are four dragons there, and rumors of a fifth besides. I will not have you walk into a dragonpit unguarded."
"Then what would you have us do," she asked, meeting his eyes steadily, "abandon our interests in Essos?"
Corlys straightened, anger giving way to calculation. "I will go to King Viserys. I will return to Driftmark, raise ships and provisions for the Blacks. His own son moves against me. Viserys will not ignore that."
For a moment, hope flickered in his eyes.
Rhaenys shook her head.
"Do you truly believe a command from Viserys will bind Aegon?"
Corlys bristled. "Defying a royal decree is treason."
"If Viserys's word were enough," Rhaenys replied, "there would be no Blacks and no Greens. And ask yourself this. Why do you think Aegon would fear the charge of treason?"
She paused, choosing her words with care. "In truth, Rhaenyra is no match for him. Were it not for Viserys's favor, she could not contend with Aegon at all."
Corlys opened his mouth to protest.
"And that," Rhaenys continued, voice steady but grave, "is precisely why Aegon is so dangerous. Even with the king's full support behind Rhaenyra, Viserys cannot curb him."
She drew her hand back slowly. "Consider what you are asking. Aegon has the will and the strength to defy the Iron Throne. Does Viserys have the will to name his own son a traitor?"
Corlys fell silent.
"To do so would mean war," Rhaenys said. "The realm would split. The lords who favor Aegon would call their banners without hesitation. And we would face four dragons in the sky at once."
"Meleys might be able to hold Vhagar," Rhaenys said at last, her voice steady but quiet. "Caraxes could contend with Dreamfyre."
She lifted her eyes to her husband.
"But what of Sunfyre," she asked. "And what of Tessarion?"
Corlys's expression hardened. The muscles along his jaw flexed, and for a heartbeat he looked as though he might snap back with fury alone. Instead, he turned away, resting both hands on the edge of the table as if to anchor himself.
He knew she spoke the truth. That knowledge cut deeper than any insult.
"You think so little of Viserys," he said at last, his voice rough.
Rhaenys shook her head slowly. "It is not contempt. It is familiarity."
She stepped closer, her hands folding together before her. "He looks resolute now, standing for Rhaenyra with all the weight of a king's word. But ask him to raise arms against his own son, and you would be asking more than his heart can bear."
Her lips pressed together, a faint crease forming between her brows. "It would be easier for him to die."
Corlys turned back toward her, frustration burning in his eyes.
Rhaenys continued, her tone soft but relentless. "If the lords of the realm had not been so wary of women in those days, the crown would never have passed to Viserys. He took the Iron Throne by virtue of being male."
She paused, letting that truth settle. "And now he would pass it to a daughter who is, in the eyes of many, far less formidable than her brother."
She lifted her gaze again. "To the lords who chose him, that feels like betrayal."
Corlys's fingers curled into fists.
"If Viserys possessed the will to crush every dissenting voice," Rhaenys went on, "there might still be hope of avoiding bloodshed. But he does not. And Aegon does."
Her voice grew colder. "That is why the Greens have grown so strong. Strong enough to split the realm the moment they choose."
She exhaled slowly. "And as they rise, the same lords who once opposed Viserys will rise again, this time against Rhaenyra, just as they once did against him."
Corlys's hands trembled. He clenched them harder, knuckles whitening.
"Then we will cut our losses," he said sharply. "We will abandon most of our trade. We will deal only with Braavos, Pentos, and those Free Cities bold enough to stand apart."
He met her eyes, fierce and unyielding. "I will not let you place yourself in danger."
Not only because she was his wife, but because she was the last dragonrider House Velaryon possessed.
Rhaenys stepped into him then, resting her forehead briefly against his chest. When she spoke, her voice was gentle.
"You still underestimate Aegon," she said. "If he declares that any power who trades with Driftmark is forbidden passage through the Stepstones, no merchant will risk it. Not for us."
Corlys's arms tightened around her. "He would not dare," he snapped. "Braavos would not suffer such an insult. Nor Pentos."
Rhaenys drew back just enough to look at him. "Why would he not dare? He has already cut at the root of our wealth. He is prepared to stand against any power that opposes him."
She sighed, weariness seeping through her composure. "Look to Tyrosh. Even now it struggles. Myr and Lys would not lift a single spear to aid it. That alone tells you how ruthless Aegon has been."
She shook her head. "For most merchants, safe passage through the Stepstones matters more than any single port, even Driftmark."
Silence fell between them once more, broken only by the distant cry of gulls beyond the windows.
At last, Rhaenys straightened. "This is what we will do. Tomorrow, we part ways. You will go to Viserys and see whether those twenty seized ships can be reclaimed."
Her eyes hardened, resolve settling like steel. "I will ride to Dragonstone myself. I will see what that boy truly intends."
Corlys closed his eyes. When he opened them again, the fire in his gaze had dimmed to weary acceptance.
"Very well," he said quietly.
It was the best course left to them.
In truth, he wanted no open clash with Aegon. This was no quarrel with Rhaenyra, nor a contest of wills with Viserys.
If he declared himself Aegon's enemy today, he had little doubt that four dragons would darken the skies over Driftmark by the morrow.
And that was a war House Velaryon could not afford to invite.