The proposal for the Standing Council and the four new Small Council seats passed unanimously.
Even Tywin could see Daeron was gearing up for something big. There was no point trying to stop him.
Later that same day the new Standing Council convened.
Daeron sat at the head of the long table in the king's usual chair. Ten councillors now lined both sides.
Ser Gerold stood at his right shoulder in full Kingsguard armor, refusing to sit.
Daeron looked around the table. "My lords, as Prince of Storm's End and Governor of the Trident, the Crownlands, the Riverlands, and the Stormlands are now bound together. But King's Landing is a mess—overcrowded, filthy, and chaotic. The Hand and I have drawn up a full renovation plan for the city."
He slid copies across the table.
The councillors split into two loose groups. The old guard looked wary. The four newcomers—Lord Owen as Master of the Royal Household, Davos as Master of the Kingswood, Mace Tyrell as Master of Works, and Ser Alliser Thorne as Commander of the City Watch—stayed quiet for now, listening.
Mace and Owen at least looked comfortable; they were Reach lords with money and experience. Alliser and Davos kept their mouths shut and their eyes open.
Daeron continued. "I'm not driving people out. I'm giving them royal land to clear and settle. They get homes, we get taxes, and the city stops choking on itself."
Lord Corlton spoke first, cautious. "Prince, the city already holds more than fifty thousand souls. Every king has wanted to fix this, but forcing people out risks riots."
"I know," Daeron said. "That's why we do it smart. We offer incentives, open new farmland, and let them move voluntarily."
The new councillors stayed silent, still finding their feet. Davos in particular looked like he'd rather be captaining a ship than sitting at this table.
Daeron pointed at Alliser. "Commander Thorne, the City Watch will be critical for keeping order during the changes. Two thousand Gold Cloaks can't manage fifty thousand people properly. I want you to recruit fresh men, train them hard, keep the best two thousand as regulars, and reassign the rest as five hundred constables for patrols, tax collection, and settling disputes."
Alliser shifted uncomfortably. "Prince… that won't work. The men earn almost nothing. They make their real coin shaking down merchants and smallfolk on the streets. Cut off that income and you'll have a mutiny on your hands."
Daeron had expected the objection. "I'm raising their pay to professional soldier levels. You'll work out the exact numbers with Lord Corlton and announce it to every cloak. No more squeezing the people for pocket change."
Corlton's face paled. "Prince, the treasury isn't bottomless. You've already created five Wardens of the Roads. The road wardens alone are a huge expense. Adding proper salaries for two thousand Gold Cloaks on top of that… the current tax revenue can't support it for long."
Daeron frowned. "Our annual income is four to five thousand gold dragons, sometimes seven in a good year. We can afford it."
Corlton shook his head. "Your Grace, the Iron Throne has never spent at this scale before. And if you turn soldiers into full-time professionals who don't farm, royal lands will produce less grain. The great lords will also resent it and drag their feet on taxes."
Daeron leaned forward. "How did the treasury end up with millions of gold dragons if we never spend anything?"
Tywin answered calmly. "After the Dance of the Dragons emptied the vaults, every king since has focused on filling them again. Aegon III, Viserys II, even your grandfather and father were frugal. That's how we built the hoard."
Maester Aemon added softly, "Over a hundred years of careful saving."
Daeron smiled. "Then it's about time we put it to work."
He looked at Tywin. "I want a professional army. Ten thousand men at minimum—road wardens, constables, and the new Constabulary Knights. No more relying on lords who might rebel the moment our backs are turned."
Tywin's expression stayed neutral, but his eyes sharpened. "If you're set on this, fine. But before we talk numbers, Lord Corlton needs to know the full equipment cost. Full plate for two thousand Constabulary Knights, weapons, horses, plus armor and weapons for eight thousand road wardens…"
He didn't even glance at the paper. "Rough total comes to twenty-two thousand five hundred and seventy-one gold dragons."
Half a year's income in one purchase.
Daeron didn't blink. "No problem."
He meant it.
Money was just money.
And right now, every gold dragon in that treasury belonged to him.