Dragonstone Island, Dragonfort.
Late at night, Sara, lying in bed, was awakened by a sharp knock on the door.
She sat up in bed, her hand already on the sword at the bedside.
But the knocking stopped, replaced by a low voice: "Miss Sara, a letter from Tyrosh."
A letter from Tyrosh?
She put on a coat and opened the door.
A teenager, barely into his teens, stood in the doorway.
He was silent, then shoved a rolled-up piece of parchment into her hand, then turned and ran off, disappearing into the darkness of the Dragonfort corridor.
Sara closed the door and unrolled the parchment.
The letter was short, only a few lines:
"Your son is in our hands."
"If you want him to live, return to Tyrosh with Silverwing and Vermithor, and tell no one, bring no one."
"If you inform the Blacks, your son will die."
Sara's face instantly turned pale.
Her son.
Little Jacaerys.
A child only a few months old, the grandson just recognized by Queen Rhaenyra, the child she cherished as her treasure.
Today, her only son...
She felt half frozen.
Sara felt the world spin, almost falling.
She held onto the doorframe, gasping, desperately trying to calm down.
Who did this?
Whoever it was, they most likely wanted the dragons.
Silverwing. Vermithor.
Did they want to use her child to force her to take the dragons away from the Blacks and use them for their own purposes?
Sara gritted her teeth, tears streaming uncontrollably.
She knew what she should do. She should immediately go to Prince Daemon and tell them about this.
But the words in the letter were etched into her heart like a knife:
If you inform the Blacks, your son will die.
She couldn't gamble.
This was her only son, her only comfort.
She couldn't gamble.
After a while, wiping her tears, Sara had already made her decision.
She put on a black cloak, took her sword, and quietly left the room.
Even if it broke her oath, she would do it.
Inside the dragon pit.
Silverwing was awake. The silver she-dragon seemed to sense her rider's anxiety and whimpered softly.
Nearby, Vermithor also looked up, his bronze scales faintly glowing in the moonlight.
These two dragons had always been inseparable; wherever Silverwing went, Vermithor would follow.
Sara climbed onto Silverwing's back and cast one last glance at Dragonfort.
I'm sorry, Queen.
I'm sorry, Prince Daemon.
I must save my child.
Silverwing spread its wings and soared into the air. Vermithor followed, and the figures of the two dragons dissolved into the night, flying east.
Runestone Fort.
Late at night.
In the forest on the outskirts of Runestone, even the moonlight couldn't penetrate.
In this area, the forest was dense, branches intertwined.
Deep in the forest was an iron mine cave.
The cave entrance was overgrown with weeds, and rusted tracks stretched from the cave into the darkness.
This was originally an iron mine in Runestone, the ore extracted supplying the army's weapons.
But a few months ago, the vein dried up, and the miners left, leaving it in ruins.
But tonight, the ruins were no longer silent.
Two figures knelt at the cave entrance, their forms almost invisible in the darkness.
Only the sound of their rapid breathing betrayed their inner tension.
Near the cave entrance, a pair of eyes watched them.
They were golden eyes, vertical pupils, strikingly bright in the darkness, like two burning flames.
The owner of the eyes was a dragon, Lotharn, its deep black scales blending with the night, only these eyes and the occasional smoldering exhales revealing its presence.
Aemond Targaryen stood beside Lotharn.
Moonlight filtered through the gaps in the treetops, illuminating him.
His long silver hair was scattered by the night wind, shining with a cold glint in the moonlight.
His purple eyes were deep, intently watching the two kneeling before him.
"Get up and speak. You are all independent individuals, no need for such formalities."
Hearing this, Kermit and Carter stood up, but still kept their heads lowered.
They had followed Aemond for many years, knowing when to speak and what to do.
"Regent," Kermit spoke first, lowering his voice.
"A few days ago, the Blacks sent an assassin."
Aemond's eyebrows slightly lifted, but he remained silent.
"The targets were Princess Helaena, Queen Mother Alicent, and Queen Aelin," Kermit continued.
"Terra foiled their plans."
"Three assassins; two were killed on the spot, and one committed suicide by biting a poisoned tooth after being captured."
Aemond was silent for a moment, then chuckled softly.
"He knew he would fail," Aemond said contemptuously.
"He wants to provoke me, make us panic all day, and make us waste our strength preparing for assassinations."
Kermit and Carter exchanged a glance and remained silent.
"Then send someone to kill Rhaenyra," Aemond stared at Kermit.
Kermit was stunned for a moment: "Regent, that's..."
"I know," Aemond interrupted him. "Whoever is sent will die."
"But it's not just about killing her; it's about warning them."
"Let them know that I too am capable of threatening them."
Kermit nodded: "Yes, I'll do it now."
"Also," Aemond continued, "strengthen the security of the Red Keep."
"Three posts become four, and the password changes daily."
"Everyone entering or leaving the Red Keep, whoever it is, must undergo three interrogations."
"If Terra doesn't have enough men, transfer them from Runestone."
"Yes."
Aemond thought for a moment, then asked: "What about the Church and the Grand Maester I asked you to keep an eye on?"
Kermit's body tensed slightly.
He knew how important this matter was.
"Maester Nolen... he has behaved normally," Kermit chose his words carefully.
"He comes to the Small Council meetings on time every day, reports on work on time, and his words and deeds are within the authority of a maester."
"Nothing suspicious."
"Nothing suspicious?" Aemond repeated, a slight playfulness in his voice. "That is the biggest suspicion."
Kermit was stunned for a moment, then suddenly said: "What the Regent means is..."
"Too normal is exactly abnormal," Aemond said. "Keep watching him."
"Yes."
"What about the Church?"
Kermit took a deep breath; he knew this was the point of the night.
"The Church..." he paused, "the Church has done something."
"What happened?"
Kermit lowered his voice: "They bought all the grain that His Majesty Aegon requisitioned and sent to King's Landing."
Aemond's brows furrowed.
That grain was specially requisitioned by Aegon to appease the residents of King's Landing and prevent famine.
He had been very angry about Aegon alienating the North, but Aegon had paid the price for his stupidity.
If the North rebelled, it would be a different story; as long as the Targaryen dragons were still there...
These mortal armies posed little threat.
In the original work, the Dance of the Dragons raged in its later stages.
The Blacks and Greens were both broken and destroyed, so the armies of these regions became the decisive factor.
Aegon's plan was for this grain to be sold to the commoners of King's Landing at a fair price.
This was to win hearts and minds and stabilize the situation.
But now the Church in King's Landing had bought all that grain?
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