"Your Grace? Is something wrong?" The Hand of the King, Torrhen, noticed Aegon staring intently at the baby, his smile having vanished completely, and couldn't help but speak up.
Aegon seemed to snap out of his thoughts and replied with a smile, "I'm just overjoyed, haha."
He handed the baby to the nearby wet nurse, then stepped into the room and immediately saw Rhaenys lying weakly in bed.
When she saw her husband enter, Rhaenys quickly gave him a gentle smile. "Aegon, I've finally brought hope to you—and to House Targaryen."
Aegon's smile faltered for a brief moment, but he quickly composed himself and resumed a seemingly warm expression. He placed a soft kiss on Rhaenys's forehead and said gently, "In the month following childbirth, you mustn't get overly emotional or leave the bed, or you might fall ill. You need to rest well."
"Where's the baby? Have you given him a name?" Rhaenys asked, her voice filled with the joy of new motherhood.
"His name is Aenys," Aegon replied, gently placing her hand against his cheek. He then signaled the wet nurse to bring the child over and place him beside her.
Rhaenys lovingly stroked her son's soft, rosy cheek, smiling brightly. "Aenys... what a lovely name. You'll surely grow into a great hero, just like your father."
"He's my firstborn son," Aegon said softly. "I will do everything in my power to raise him into a strong and decisive Dragonlord. I will. I'll train him carefully, nurture him with the best education, and prepare him to bear the burden of guarding this realm."
"You'd better mean that," Rhaenys said playfully, tapping Aegon's forehead with her index finger.
Aegon gave a slight nod, his expression calm yet tinged with a trace of contemplation.
Just moments earlier, he had been carefully weighing his thoughts. From the vision he had seen, Aenys hardly resembled a wise ruler—more like a feeble and indecisive one. That the Targaryen bloodline would come under siege by the people, and that Aenys would spend his final days sick and secluded on Dragonstone instead of ruling from King's Landing, said enough.
Aside from Visenya, Aegon had three other lovers currently pregnant. In time, he would have more than one heir to choose from.
That led to a crucial question—should he choose the most capable, or follow tradition and name the eldest?
Choosing the most capable might seem ideal, but in practice, primogeniture—the right of the firstborn—was far more realistic and ensured a smoother transfer of power within the realm.
After all, the status of the firstborn son wasn't subject to personal opinion, while judging capability was far too open to manipulation.
There are a thousand Hamlets in a thousand minds—every faction had its own standard for what counted as "capable." Self-interest and bias made such judgments too easily swayed.
Compared to that, the identity of the firstborn was practically immutable.
Even if Aenys turned out incompetent, Aegon now had the foresight—and thus the chance—to guide and reshape him through rigorous training and elite education. He could tailor his son's development to overcome his natural weaknesses.
As long as Aenys could grow into a capable monarch, Aegon would never waver in supporting him—and would protect his claim with all his strength.
But if, despite Aegon's efforts, Aenys still failed to lead this young empire, only then would he consider choosing a different successor. If that day ever came, Aegon's status as the founding king would make it easy to reassign Aenys—perhaps as a Maester, or to The Wall as a member of the Night's Watch.
"Rest well," Aegon said, kissing both Rhaenys and Aenys on the forehead. Then he quietly left the room with the others.
The Kingdom of Targaryen had welcomed its first prince—a historic event worthy of great celebration.
The Small Council debated whether to hold another tournament and summon the lords to Harrenhal for a grand celebration. But Aegon chose to postpone it, reasoning that the war with the Iron Islands had just ended, and the lords were already busy preparing for the upcoming war with Dorne. Traveling back and forth would be too demanding.
Instead, Aegon made a proclamation to all the kingdom's lords: to celebrate Prince Aenys's birth, he would pardon the first group of slaves who had helped build King's Landing, granting them freedom and thereby showcasing the Targaryen dynasty's benevolence.
As for vassals too far from the Crownlands, they need not make the trip to King's Landing for the ceremony. All focus should remain on the coming war with Dorne.
According to the weather Maesters, winter was nearing its end, and a new phase of conquest was about to begin.
Among the various orders of Maesters, most were more theoretical—but the climate Maesters were well known for their remarkably accurate seasonal forecasts, rarely making errors.
...
One month later, Aegon, along with the two Queens, young Prince Aenys, several ministers, and noble apprentices from Harrenhal, set out for King's Landing.
This time, Aegon and his sisters did not ride their dragons. Instead, they traveled with the ministers aboard a pleasure barge, inspecting the realm along the way and offering comments on development around Harrenhal.
Aegon also discussed with his ministers the ongoing construction of the Kingsroad, which was being spearheaded by the six great duchies. This royal highway would span the Seven Kingdoms and serve as the backbone of future commerce across Westeros—something Aegon could not afford to overlook.
However, construction was still in the surveying stage, with only short sections built just outside the castles of several lords.
As the royal fleet followed the Tear—a tributary of the Gods Eye—downstream and neared its junction with the Blackwater Rush, Aegon looked out from the ship and saw travelers moving briskly along the dirt roads by the riverbank, merchants and wayfarers among them.
Some clever folk had set up a few inns along the banks of the River of Tears, offering food, water, and lodging to passing travelers.
Aegon pointed to one of the inns and said to Crispian, "The roads within the Crownlands must be developed with urgency. The road from Harrenhal to King's Landing, for instance, only allows two carriages to pass side by side. This is meant to be part of the Kingsroad—it should match the standards of the Valyrian roads, built with a solid stone foundation and broad enough to be worthy of its name.
We must also set up official waystations at regular intervals."
Crispian looked uneasy. "Isn't a road as wide as the Valyrian ones—wide enough for six carriages—a bit too ambitious? Even if Your Grace sends tens of thousands of Ironborn to assist, we're still short on manpower."
"Then make it wide enough for four carriages, but ensure the design allows for future expansion." Aegon reluctantly lowered his expectations.
The fleet moved from the River of Tears into the Blackwater Rush. Along the riverbanks, they began to see busy Ironborn clearing vegetation from the dirt roads.
At that time, Westeros was still largely untamed, overgrown with plant life. The dirt road between Harrenhal and King's Landing had only been gradually formed over the last few years by caravan traffic.
Some Ironborn working on the riverside road noticed the royal fleet and shouted excitedly, bowing in respect to the king.
To ensure Aegon's safety, Orys had no choice but to persuade him and the ministers to return to the cabin.
After spending a brief moment interacting with the Ironborn, Aegon relented and returned to the ship to rest.
Carried swiftly by the current, the fleet arrived at the King's Landing construction site by afternoon.
It was the end of the fourth year of the Conquest.
With the arrival of the Ironborn and the slaves from Volantis, nearly a hundred thousand people were now living and laboring on the construction site of King's Landing. After four years of building, the outline of the grand city was beginning to take shape.
The Crownlands' army had long since placed the area under martial law. All the slaves had been gathered in the square before the inner city. Whispering among themselves, they were filled with excitement—Aegon the Dragonlord had come in person to grant them their freedom.
When these tens of thousands of slaves saw Aegon's carriage enter the square, escorted by Targaryen knights, they erupted in wild cheers, praising their king.
They dropped to both knees before his carriage, their heads bowed deeply—though many still snuck curious glances at the ornate vehicle from the corners of their eyes.
The inner city wall facing the square had already been completed. Built from stone quarried from a nearby red rock mine, the towering structure shimmered with a vivid crimson hue.
This wall had been designed by Aegon based on the ancient Valyrian Shield of Freedom. It was built wide enough to allow nine carriages to ride side by side atop it—so dragons could land and rest.
Just as they were now: Balerion, Vhagar, and Meraxes descended slowly from the sky and settled onto the platform atop the red wall. The Black Dread stood in the center, flanked by the other two, exuding the full majesty of Valyrian Dragonlords.
Aegon stepped down from his carriage wearing a ruby crown and a regal robe of black and red, embroidered with the three-headed dragon sigil. In addition to the Targaryen emblem, this new robe also featured a seven-pointed star—marking Aegon's role as the Most Devout of the Crownlands.
He looked up at the towering red wall, smiled, and murmured, "It may not rival the Shield of Freedom in Valyria, but it's a fine landmark all the same."
To the slaves, the sight of the Dragonlord was like seeing a god.
Most of them were Valyrian descendants carefully selected by Aerion, and they held a deep sense of reverence, nostalgia, and awe for the Dragonlord.
Besides the slaves, many worshippers of the Seven from across the Crownlands had also come, having heard of the king's plan to pardon the slaves. As the Most Devout of the Faith, Aegon was deeply beloved by followers of the Seven.
Balerion's massive tail reached down from the towering wall and came to rest before Aegon's carriage. Aegon gave a slight smile and stepped onto the tail, climbing up the red wall along Balerion's spine.
Visenya and Rhaenys watched silently as Aegon and Balerion moved in perfect harmony—no words exchanged, yet fully attuned to each other. Their bond surpassed that of nearly any dragonrider alive.
Both sisters couldn't help but think of an ancestor of House Targaryen—the Dragonlord Champion. Perhaps only a legendary dragon knight of that caliber could rival Aegon's mastery of dragonriding.
When Aegon climbed onto Balerion's forehead, he turned to look at the inner city beyond the red wall. Only a small portion of the outer court, inner court, and side towers had been built. It was clear now—his design had been far too ambitious.
In designing King's Landing's inner city, he had taken inspiration from the ancient city of Valyria, but had failed to account for the fact that Valyria was the result of thousands of years of construction by the Freehold.
At this rate, it might take another decade or more before the massive complex of buildings could even be inhabited.
Aegon turned back and called out loudly from Balerion's forehead, "My people, when the construction of King's Landing began, I promised you that after three years of labor, I would grant you the status of commoners under the Targaryen dynasty.
Now, those three years have passed. Your diligence has borne fruit—today is the day you cast off the chains of slavery."
With that, Aegon gave a small wave to the commander of the city garrison waiting below. Immediately, the newly formed red-cloaked city guards moved forward in rows, unlocking the shackles from the slaves' hands and feet.
The slaves gazed at their newly freed hands through tear-filled eyes, praying to Aegon with the same reverence they might show a god.
Seeing the city guards carrying out his orders, Aegon spoke again.
"You will not only be granted the status of commoners—you will also be given homes, and the chance to start your own families. I will lease land to you for farming.
And if you return to work on the construction of King's Landing, you will be paid wages.
Embrace your new lives, my people!"
A wave of cheers erupted from below. Aegon looked down at the crowd, pleased with their reaction.
This was his intent all along—to steadily grow the population of the Crownlands.
In the past, when the Seven Kingdoms were in constant conflict, the Crownlands had been the most fiercely contested battleground. Year after year, the Iron Islands, the Stormlands, and the Westerlands brought war to its soil, leaving the Crownlands with the smallest population of any of the Seven Kingdoms.
Aegon continued to purchase slaves from Essos—effectively draining the lifeblood of the Nine Free Cities across the Narrow Sea. Once those slaves arrived in Westeros, they would never return.
They would either die from toil on the construction sites of King's Landing, or survive three years to become commoners, rise above their station, settle in new towns established by the Targaryen dynasty, and become part of the Crownlands.
Only with a growing population could the economy begin to flourish. And only a prosperous Crownlands would attract people from the other six regions, creating a healthy cycle where the core grew stronger and the outer regions more reliant.
At present, the population of the Crownlands was barely two million. Aegon's goal was to increase that number tenfold within ten years—a feat that would require a massive influx of immigrants.
Slaves, wildlings, smugglers—Aegon welcomed them all.
He and his ministers stayed in King's Landing for several weeks, primarily inspecting the progress on the construction sites.
During that time, Rhaenys, noting that the inner city was being built from red stone, gave it a beautiful name: the Red Keep.
The Targaryen court spent the final day of the fourth year of the Conquest in King's Landing and stepped into the fifth.
...
When the royal party returned to Harrenhal, a raven arrived at the Raven Tower with news: the Seven Sea Kings—seven recognized pirate crews from the Iron Islands—were gathering fleets and preparing to sail south. They had requested that the ports along their route provide them with necessary supplies.
These seven pirate groups had each assembled their own fleet and were heading toward the coast of Dorne to collect "iron money."
Lord Hightower, head of House Hightower, wrote to Aegon seeking guidance—should they grant the pirates' request? The Sea Kings' report indicated they intended to use the port of Oldtown as their base of operations.
Aegon replied instructing Lord Hightower to fully support the raiding campaign, while warning House Hightower not to impose excessive taxes on the pirates' loot.
"This is just a little appetizer before the conquest of Dorne," Aegon remarked during the Small Council.
The Hand of the King, Torrhen, warned, "Your Grace, supporting bandits is dishonorable."
Aegon simply smiled and gave no reply. Torrhen was rigid—too traditional. After the Dornish War, Aegon planned to send his old friend home to rest and appoint a more compliant Hand.
"Winter is nearing its end. The dukes must begin gathering their warriors to support the conquest of Dorne," Orys said. As Marshal of the Realm, he naturally held a seat on the Small Council and was directly involved in the campaign planning.
Several lords and councilors voiced their agreement, expressing enthusiasm for the new war. The conquest of the Iron Islands had made three of them incredibly rich—how could the rest not be tempted?
Aegon was the first to leave the meeting, leaving the details of the Dornish campaign to Orys and the others. He had no need to micromanage.
Lately, Aegon was most interested in spending time with his two-month-old son, Aenys, and in following the research progress at the new Citadel.
His earlier work on papermaking had made great strides. He believed success was close at hand.
And once papermaking was complete, other inventions like printing would follow more easily.
It was the economic power of these new technologies that gave Aegon the confidence to believe he could multiply the Crownlands' population fivefold within ten years.
Aegon realized he had fallen into a trap of his own making. When researching papermaking, he had poured an enormous number of destiny points into chip-assisted simulations. But the return was negligible—the points were spent like water and depleted in no time.
Even if Aegon had ten kidneys generating destiny points, it still wouldn't be enough.
Eventually, he shifted strategy, assigning these projects to the appropriate Maester schools. Only when they hit a bottleneck would he intervene with chip-based simulations. This reduced the cost in destiny points significantly while drastically improving efficiency.
One such project—the rail-based public carriage system—had already been completed.
Rails drastically reduced resistance and increased stability. Without needing additional horses, the rail carriages could travel at twice the speed of traditional ones, carry double the number of passengers, and reduce the accident rate to one-eighth of that of standard wagons.
Iron ore from the Iron Islands was smelted into rails and laid near Harrenhal. This new form of urban transport was expected to be up and running soon.
The Maester who led the rail carriage project was rewarded by Aegon with the fief of a small village.
From that point on, enthusiasm among the Maesters surged.
Many nobles also began investing in projects favored by King Aegon.
He welcomed their participation in high-potential ventures and didn't turn them away.
The royal family always retained 51% of the shares in each project, while distributing a modest portion of profits to the vassals. This helped create a broad alliance of shared interests—an invaluable asset for Aegon's future political reforms and commercial development.
At Harrenhal's academic towers, the Eagle Tower, the Wolf Tower, and the Lion Tower all had research projects assigned by Aegon. Only the Dragon Tower had relatively few.
After all, Aegon couldn't entrust Valyrian blood sorcery to outsiders. Moreover, much of the existing magic was overly obscure and abstract.
During an inspection of the Dragon Tower, Aegon had seen numerous experiments that bordered on the inhumane. Many magical items crafted through dark sorcery were utterly impractical—for example, a sluggish voodoo zombie that couldn't even match the combat strength of a farmer wielding a pitchfork.
Aegon had particular interest in the study of Skinchangers, but Harrenhal's Dragon Tower had made no progress in this area—no Skinchangers had come forward to collaborate.
There were no known direwolves among Torrhen Stark's generation, and none of the northern bannermen's retainers had shown such abilities. Or perhaps Skinchangers did exist—but as followers of the Old Gods, they were unwilling to have their gifts dissected and studied.
Aegon planned to find an opportunity to visit Dragonstone and ask Old Nan, Illya, whether she'd be willing to teach at the Dragon Tower.
Illya lived in seclusion on Dragonstone, having never revealed her true identity or powers. Aegon didn't feel it appropriate to summon her by letter. He would have to wait and act in accordance with her own wishes.
...
[Upto 20 chapters ahead for now]
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