On the second evening in Gulltown, the sea breeze, carrying the unique salty scent of the Bay of Crabs, blew through the courtyard of House Shett.
Bonfires crackled in the courtyard, illuminating the excited faces around them. Daemon sat in the seat of honor, with Gael on his left and Lord Grafton on his right. Opposite them sat the head of House Shett and the head of the Arryn cadet branch of Gulltown.
"Prince, try this." The head of House Shett was a short, portly middle-aged man wearing a brown leather robe embroidered with nine white seagulls. He handed Daemon a roasted seagull. "This is a specialty of our House Shett; outsiders can't taste it even if they want to."
Daemon accepted it with a smile and took a bite. The meat was a bit coarse, but the flavor was unique. "Not bad."
"As long as the Prince likes it." The Shett patriarch's eyes crinkled into slits with his smile. He clearly had no ambitions, simply wanting to curry favor with this Prince from King's Landing.
In sharp contrast to the Shett patriarch was the head of the Arryn cadet branch of Gulltown, Edwin Arryn. He wore a blue cloak with the sigil of the moon-and-falcon, though the falcon was gold rather than white. Although just a cadet branch of House Arryn, he appeared much more confident than the Shett patriarch.
He constantly filled Daemon's cup, shrewd light flickering in his eyes.
"Prince, what do you think of our Gulltown?" Edwin Arryn asked, a hint of imperceptible probing in his tone.
"Very lively, and very prosperous," Daemon said lightly. "Worthy of being the Vale's gateway to the sea."
"The Prince flatters us." Edwin laughed. "But compared to prosperity, I admire the Prince's valor more. I heard that on Crackclaw Point, you repelled wildlings with only a few dozen men? And won over House Brune and House Crabb?"
Daemon didn't answer directly, simply raising his cup. "Everyone fought bravely; I was just lucky."
"The Prince is too modest." Edwin leaned closer, lowering his voice. "A talent like the Prince should have greater achievements. You see, our House Arryn of Gulltown, though a cadet branch, is also of authentic Andal noble descent. Back then, our ancestor Artys Arryn I was a hero who unified the entire Vale."
He paused, his gaze sweeping over everyone present before resting on Daemon. "A pity, the current Eyrie is controlled by a woman and an old stubborn mule. Lady Jeyne Arryn is young, but that old thing Yorbert Royce holds the power of the Vale in the name of regency, completely disregarding us true Arryns."
Daemon's heart stirred; he immediately understood the intent of this Arryn cadet branch head. He wanted to rope him in to oppose Yorbert Royce together, perhaps even seize the rulership of the Vale.
"Lord Yorbert Royce is the Regent of the Vale and Warden of the East, recognized by His Grace the King," Daemon said impassively. "As members of the royal family, we should respect the lords and traditions of each region."
Edwin Arryn clearly hadn't expected Daemon to say this. He froze for a moment, then laughed again. "The Prince speaks truly. But I just feel a young hero like the Prince should receive more support. You see, our House Arryn of Gulltown, though not comparable to the main branch of the Eyrie, has some savings. If the Prince has any 'cause' needing sponsorship, we are willing to offer our meager efforts."
He clapped his hands, and a boy of about ten walked over. He wore exquisite silver armor and had delicate features, somewhat resembling Edwin. "This is my eldest son, Isembard Arryn."
Edwin introduced him. "He has liked playing with ledgers since childhood and read many books. If the Prince doesn't mind, let him be your squire? To gain some experience following the Prince."
Isembard Arryn immediately knelt on one knee, offering a small sword with both hands. "I beg the Prince to take me in!"
Daemon looked at the expectation in the boy's eyes, then at Edwin's determined look, and couldn't help but find it amusing. This head of the Arryn cadet branch was really investing heavily to win him over.
"Isembard is very cute, and looks smart too." Daemon helped the boy up and patted his head. "But this tour is perilous, and taking a child is inconvenient. When I return to King's Landing, if you are still willing, have your father send you to the Red Keep to find me."
Isembard's eyes lit up instantly. "Really? Thank you, Prince!"
Although Edwin Arryn didn't manage to make his son Daemon's squire immediately, he got a promise, and a satisfied smile appeared on his face. "Many thanks to the Prince for fulfilling this wish."
Seeing this, the Shett patriarch quickly chimed in, "The Prince is truly benevolent. Though our House Shett has little money, if the Prince has any commands, we will not refuse."
Daemon smiled and said nothing. He knew the goodwill of these nobles was mostly driven by profit. Although he disliked it, having one more friend was better than one more enemy before the coming storm.
The banquet lasted late into the night. When Daemon returned to the residence Lord Grafton arranged for them, Gael and Mysaria were already asleep. He sat by the window, looking at the moonlight outside, his mind full of thoughts.
He thought of Edwin Arryn's words, of Yorbert Royce, of Jeyne Arryn. The current situation in the Vale, in corners unrecorded by history, seemed more complex than he imagined.
Thinking of the troubles between his namesake great-grandfather "cousin" Daemon Targaryen and Rhea Royce made his head ache even more.
"Truly troublesome," Daemon muttered to himself. He knew Rhea Royce's temper; her character was like a stubborn rock. Even someone as unruly as Daemon Targaryen was helpless against her.
Thinking of seeing her again, Daemon felt his scalp tingle, even having the illusion of seeing Lady Jocelyn Baratheon—that widow of Prince Aemon, though gentle, had a motherly majesty in her eyes that intimidated him.
"Stop thinking about it." Daemon shook his head, throwing these troubles to the back of his mind.
Tomorrow, they would leave Gulltown for Runestone. Whatever awaited him there, he had to face it.
Early the next morning, the retinue was ready. Lord Grafton, the Shett patriarch, and Edwin Arryn all came to see them off.
Lord Grafton gave Daemon an exquisite dagger, the sheath inlaid with sapphire, said to glow in the dark.
Edwin Arryn shoved a purse full of Gold Dragons into Daemon's hand, calling it a "meeting gift" for Isembard.
Though the Shett patriarch had no expensive gifts, he prepared plenty of dry rations and water for the retinue.
"Take care on the road, Prince." Lord Grafton shook Daemon's hand. "House Royce of Runestone is stubborn, but reasonable. As long as you respect their traditions, there shouldn't be any trouble."
"I will," Daemon nodded. "Many thanks to Lord Grafton for the hospitality these past days."
"The Prince is too polite," Lord Grafton laughed. "After your tour, you are welcome to visit Gulltown again."
Daemon mounted his horse to accompany the retinue, looking back at this lively city.
The walls of Gulltown gleamed grey in the sunlight, ships in the harbor were still busy, and the white building of the Motherhouse of Maris shone in the distance.
"Move out!" Daemon commanded, and the retinue slowly moved out of Gulltown, heading toward Runestone.
The Cannibal and Dreamfyre circled high above, letting out low dragon roars, as if escorting them.
Daemon looked at the winding road ahead, a premonition suddenly rising in his heart: the journey to Runestone might not be as peaceful as Gulltown.
The retinue moved further away, and the figure of Gulltown shrank behind them, finally disappearing on the horizon.
Daemon tightened his grip on Blackfyre, the warmth of the hilt seeming to remind him: his tour was still very, very long. And his story had only just begun.
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