The banquet hall of Castle Driftmark was brightly lit, the air filled with the buttery aroma of grilled lobster and the rich scent of Essosi wine.
Corlys Velaryon raised his cup and smiled at the Braavosi merchants invited in for a drink before departure. "Gentlemen, my wife's brother is visiting today, and family matters are pressing. Shall we discuss the spice trade in detail another day?"
The merchants rose to take their leave, not forgetting to nod in greeting to Daemon as they left. Clearly, the story of this Targaryen prince who rode a black dragon and burned the fleets of the Triarchy alongside Prince Baelon and his namesake cousin had long spread through the Free Cities, making him a hot topic on both sides of the Narrow Sea.
As soon as the last merchant disappeared out the door, Corlys set down his cup and exhaled deeply. "Finally, I can speak freely."
Rhaenys scoffed, tearing down the "Sea Snake's" facade without a care. Just after adding a slice of lemon cake to Laena's plate, she said, "You, acting refined in front of merchants all day—aren't you tired?" She turned to Daemon, her eyes twinkling mischievously. "Speaking of which, King's Landing has been lively lately. I heard Big Daemon got beaten by Baelon? Just because he dragged you to the Street of Silk?"
Daemon paused in peeling a lobster for Gael. "Sister is truly well-informed."
"The whole Crownlands is talking about it." Rhaenys sipped her wine, her tone growing excited. "Some say you came back from the Street of Silk like a changed person, even King Jaehaerys praised your steadiness—seems Big Daemon as a negative example actually did some good."
Gael's cheeks turned as red as a ripe apple, and she gently tugged at Daemon's sleeve. Outside the window, Dreamfyre lowed by the shore, her pale blue scales reflecting the candlelight like a scattering of crushed diamonds.
"Speaking of dragons," Rhaenys shifted her gaze to Gael. "Our little Princess Aunt is truly remarkable, taming Dreamfyre. Taming Meleys back then was much harder for me."
Laena suddenly raised her hand. "Mother, I want to ride a dragon like Gael too!"
"Wait until you're older." Rhaenys ruffled her daughter's hair with a smile. Her gaze circled between Daemon and Gael before dropping a bombshell. "Actually, I originally thought of betrothing Laena to Little Daemon when she grew up. Seems that chance is gone—my Little Daemon has completely fallen under Aunt Gael's skirt?"
The banquet hall fell into dead silence.
Gael's face turned beet red instantly, even her ears flushing pink. She wished she could bury her head in her plate.
Seven-year-old Laena covered her face in shyness, peeking at Daemon through her fingers and whispering "Mother."
Daemon choked violently on breadcrumbs, his face turning red.
Mysaria quickly stood up to pat his back and brought him water, nearly knocking over a wine jug in the confusion.
But the most pathetic figure was Corlys—he sprayed the mouthful of red wine he had just taken, splashing it right onto his silver-grey brocade robe, with a few drops landing squarely on Laenor's silver hair beside him.
"Wah—" Four-year-old Laenor, fastidious since birth and never having been treated like this, saw the wine stains on his hair and burst into loud wails on the spot.
"Corlys Velaryon!" Rhaenys's roar exploded in the hall. Looking at her husband's disheveled state and her son's tear-streaked face, she trembled with rage. "Look at what you've done!"
The family dinner ended hastily amidst Rhaenys's fury. Handmaidens carried the wailing Laenor away. Corlys tried to sneak off to change but was scolded by Rhaenys for half an hour.
Daemon took the opportunity to slip back to the guest rooms with Gael and Mysaria, Rhaenys's roar still faintly audible behind them.
Driftmark was exceptionally quiet late at night, save for the sound of waves crashing on the rocks.
Daemon had just coaxed the little princess—who claimed to be "scared" and had "sneaked into" his room with Mysaria in tow to "keep her company"—into a half-asleep state in his arms. Mysaria was curled up nearby. Suddenly, there was a light knock on the door.
"Who?" Daemon asked alertly.
"It's me, Corlys." The Sea Snake's helpless voice came from outside. "Can you open the door?"
Daemon gave Gael and Mysaria a reassuring look, slipped out of bed, and cracked the door open.
The forty-five-year-old Lord Corlys, the "Sea Snake," stood there in thin white nightclothes wrapped in a wool blanket, hair messy, completely devoid of his daytime spiritedness.
"It's late. Is something wrong?" Daemon whispered.
"You're going to Claw Isle in a few days, right?" Corlys squeezed through the crack, lowering his voice. "I happen to be sailing for Braavos and can give you a lift. Let's talk inside..."
His words stuck in his throat as Daemon stared suspiciously at his nightclothes.
Corlys blushed and confessed, "I was kicked out by Rhaenys. She said she's sleeping with Laena and Laenor. She ordered the steward and guards not to let me leave the castle or open any other room for me. I really have nowhere to go, so I came to the guest rooms."
Daemon raised an eyebrow. "Sorry, it's not convenient."
Corlys froze, then realized, a knowing look appearing on his face.
He cleared his throat, putting on the air of a serious elder. "I've been young too... Though I am a devout follower of the Seven, I'm not old-fashioned. However, you should observe propriety. Having children before marriage is absolutely forbidden; it's bad for the lady's reputation..."
"You should go next door," Daemon interrupted him, pointing to the adjacent room. "That's Gael's guest room."
"No, no!" Corlys waved his hands frantically. "If Rhaenys sees me coming out of Gael's room tomorrow, she'll kill me!"
Helpless, Daemon had to wake Gael and Mysaria. The two girls rubbed their sleepy eyes. Hearing they had to move to Gael's room, Gael blushed again.
"Just make do for one night." Daemon pushed Corlys into his room, then said to the embarrassed Gael and Mysaria, "Let's go to your room."
Corlys looked at the blushing Gael and Mysaria with a knowing air, muttering, "Ah, to be young," and silently gave a thumbs up.
Daemon couldn't be bothered with him and slammed the door shut.
The room Rhaenys prepared for Gael was slightly smaller than Daemon's but decorated more exquisitely. Pale blue tapestries hung on the walls, and the scent of lavender filled the air.
Gael soon fell asleep again, her small head resting on Daemon's chest, breathing evenly.
Mysaria slept deeply beside them, her platinum-blonde curls glowing softly in the moonlight.
Daemon watched the moonlight outside the window, thinking of Rhaenys's dominance earlier and Corlys's current predicament. He couldn't help but whisper a sigh: "Rhaenys was right... 'Don't marry someone too domineering either, or life will be impossible'..."
Moonlight filtered through the lattice, casting dappled shadows on the floor. Like a silent song, it flowed slowly through the deep night of Driftmark, accompanied by the breathing of the three.
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