"King's Landing's Faith—where do they get their money?" Aemond asked curiously.
"My lord, I do not know," Kermit shook his head. "But according to intelligence, the Faith has suddenly come into a great deal of money over the past few months."
Aemond said no more. He vaguely suspected what the Faith was trying to do.
Kermit continued. "The grain was stored by the Faith in several warehouses throughout the city. And then..."
"And then?"
"The night before last, those warehouses caught fire. All the grain burned."
Silence fell over the forest, deep and still. Moonlight filtered through the gaps in the leaves, illuminating Aemond's face. That handsome face showed no expression, but both Kermit and Carter felt it—a cold that seeped from the marrow of their bones.
"What does the Faith say?" Aemond asked.
"The Faith says the Blacks set the fires," Kermit replied. "The Faith's septons have been preaching throughout the city that Rhaenyra's hired killers burned the food to cause famine in King's Landing..."
Aemond sneered.
"Next."
"There are rumors in King's Landing that this war between us Targaryens has disregarded the lives of the smallfolk?"
Kermit raised his head; a flicker of surprise passed through his eyes.
"The Regent is wise."
"Tell me."
Kermit drew a deep breath and began to report. "Rumors are already spreading in the city. An old man called the Shepherd says the Targaryens are killing kin as punishment from the Seven. Some say the Blacks don't care whether the smallfolk starve—she only wants the throne back. Some say the Greens treat smallfolk like mustard seeds, that there's clearly plenty of food at Moonspire, but they sit and watch King's Landing descend into famine, ready to sell grain at high prices when the time comes."
He paused, lowering his voice. "Some say... say the Regent means to usurp His Grace Aegon's throne."
Carter looked nervously at Aemond.
But Aemond did not grow angry; his expression did not even change. He simply listened quietly.
"This is a precursor to inciting rebellion," Aemond said dismissively.
Kermit and Carter exchanged glances and nodded simultaneously.
"What do you think the Faith is trying to do?" Aemond asked them both.
Both were stunned for a moment, not understanding why the Regent was asking this.
"The Faith... why are they doing this?" Aemond continued. "What do they truly want?"
Kermit hesitated, then said cautiously, "Perhaps... perhaps they want more power? When you were crowned, you gave them many privileges..."
"Power?" Aemond interrupted. "They want more than that..."
He looked up at the sky above. The moonlight was pale, the starlight sparse.
"They want to kill the dragons."
Kermit and Carter's bodies went rigid simultaneously.
Kill the dragons? The Faith wants to kill dragons?
"Do you know the Dragonpit?" Aemond asked, and without waiting for their answer, continued, "The Dragonpit in King's Landing. Many of House Targaryen's dragons are locked there. Those dragons are trapped. If one day the smallfolk of King's Landing riot and storm the Dragonpit, what do you think will happen?"
Kermit's face changed.
"Thousands of people, tens of thousands of people, surging forward one after another. Dragons can breathe fire, bite, and tear enemies apart, but dragons cannot take off inside the Dragonpit. Dragons also tire, get wounded, and die. If the mob is large enough, mad enough, they will have a chance to slaughter a number of dragons."
Then he looked at them.
"This is what the Faith wants. They want to incite the smallfolk to riot, storm the Dragonpit, and exterminate the Targaryen dragons. Afterward, the Faith can weep and play the good guys, claiming it was a mob uprising in King's Landing, a tragedy of the realm."
Dead silence fell over the forest. Even Lothron stopped breathing. Those golden eyes looked at Aemond, as if waiting for something.
Aemond paused; a smile appeared at the corners of his lips.
"But they forgot something."
Kermit asked in a trembling voice, "What... what is that?"
"I am not Maegor."
Aemond's voice was soft, but each word drove into their hearts like nails.
"I will only be stronger than Maegor. Maegor only knew how to kill people. The more he killed, the better—the sooner, the better. He made no distinction between friend and foe, no regard for priorities or circumstances. That is why he died."
Aemond looked at them both, his violet eyes gleaming faintly in the moonlight.
"But I will not. I know when to kill and when not to. I know how many people can be killed to gain benefit. I kill people to make them fear me—not to make them hate me."
Aemond drew a deep breath, as if suppressing something.
"They want to play? Then I will play with them. Let them continue spreading rumors, continue inciting. Let them all reveal themselves when the time comes..."
He did not finish. But Kermit and Carter understood. At that moment, everything would happen at once.
"Regent," Kermit asked boldly, "then... how many people will die?"
Aemond looked at him and answered impassively.
"I do not know. Perhaps ten thousand, perhaps tens of thousands. Perhaps even more. This allows us to kill them with cause, does it not?"
Kermit and Carter's faces went pale.
"What?" Aemond asked. "Are you afraid?"
Kermit gritted his teeth and shook his head. "I am not afraid. I just... just..."
"You think these people are pitiful?" Aemond spoke for him. "You think they were incited, that they are innocent, that they do not deserve to die?"
Kermit was silent, but his silence was an answer.
Aemond looked at him and suddenly smiled. In this smile there was no mockery, only a strange... pity?
"These people are pitiful? They are pitiable. But because they are pitiful, do they not deserve to die? When death comes, death comes. This world is like this—there's no such thing as 'never.' This world belongs to the strong."
Kermit was silent.
"I am not going to kill them," Aemond said. "They want to kill us; I am just waiting for them to act. If they do not act, I will not..."
He turned and walked toward Lothron.
"Watch them," his voice came from the darkness. "Let them continue, let all the people reveal themselves. At that moment, I will show the people of the Seven Kingdoms just how ruthless we Targaryens can be."
"Yes," Kermit and Carter answered in unison.
Aemond's figure dissolved into the darkness, only his voice still echoing.
"Once the riots begin, ensure the safe evacuation of all royal family members."
"Do not worry, Regent," Kermit raised his voice. "We have prepared boats in the Red Keep's cellars leading to a cave on the beach. If something happens, they can ensure the safety of all royal family members."
A snort of laughter came from the darkness.
"Very well."
Then all fell silent.
Kermit and Carter stood motionless. Only when Lothron's golden eyes vanished into the darkness, when the night wind had blown away all breath, did they slowly raise their heads and look at each other.
In both their eyes lay a deep fear.
Not fear of the enemy. Fear of Aemond.
The Regent—if he truly decides to do something, he can do it.
---
Lothron flew through the night sky.
Aemond rode on his back, feeling the night wind whistle past his ears. Below, the outline of Moonspire grew farther and farther, finally vanishing into the darkness.
His heart beat fast.
That feeling had returned. The restless power in his blood roared like a beast wanting to break free. He knew what it was. Since returning from Dragonstone, this feeling had come more and more often. Every time he killed someone, every time he thought about it, it appeared.
His bloodline was evolving.
So Alys Rivers had said. She said his souls were merging, that his blood was awakening. The power of those ancient Valyrian dragonlords was being reborn within him.
Ordinary swords could not harm him. Ordinary poisons could not kill him. He had resistance to dragonfire and an affinity for flame. He could hatch dragon eggs with his own blood, accelerate their growth with his blood, and command young dragons with his blood.
He was not mortal.
He was a true dragon.
A true dragon.
Lothron felt his emotions and let out a roar of delight. The sound echoed through the night sky, frightening countless birds in the forest.
Aemond closed his eyes, letting the cruelty and freedom of his nature run wild. He did not want it, but he had to go further still...
A riot?
Then let it come.
Let the mob storm the Dragonpit. Let the madmen of the Faith incite his people. Let the old pedants of the Citadel scheme for the city. When the time came, he would show them what true fear meant.
He would be stronger than Maegor. He would be more ruthless than Maegor. He would trample the corpses of those people and show them what it meant to be an enemy of House Targaryen.
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