The salt-tinged wind whipped across Laenor's face as he stood at the bow of the Sea Snake, one of the most magnificent vessels to ever sail the Narrow Sea. Three weeks had passed since their departure from King's Landing, and the memory of King Jaehaerys's cryptic warnings still echoed in his mind during quiet moments. But those moments were increasingly rare aboard his father's pride and joy.
"Pay attention, boy," Corlys called out, his silver hair dancing in the breeze as he gestured toward the distant coastline. "What do you see there?"
Laenor squinted against the glare of sunlight reflecting off the water. "The Andalos coast, Father. And—" he paused, recalling his lessons, "—the Bay of Pentos should be coming into view soon."
"Good." Corlys nodded, a hint of pride softening his weathered features. "And do you understand why we're taking this route rather than sailing straight across to Braavos?"
Laenor considered the question, feeling the gentle roll of the ship beneath his feet. Despite being only six, he'd already developed sea legs that would make many grown sailors jealous.
"Because of the Triarchy's patrols?" he ventured.
Corlys barked a laugh. "Sharp as a Valyrian blade! Yes, exactly." He swept his arm in an arc across the horizon. "The Narrow Sea isn't just water, Laenor. It's the lifeblood of trade between Westeros and Essos. Whoever controls these waters controls the flow of wealth between continents."
Laenor nodded, remembering the maps he'd studied in his father's solar. "And the Triarchy's tolls are strangling that trade."
"Precisely." Corlys's expression darkened. "Those bastards from Myr, Lys, and Tyrosh think they can extort every ship that passes through the Stepstones." He spat over the railing. "Started reasonable enough, a copper or two for safe passage. Now it's gold dragons they demand, and they seize cargo if you can't pay."
A sailor called out from the crow's nest, and Corlys tilted his head, listening. After a moment, he relaxed. "No sails on the horizon. Good."
"And that's why we're sailing to Braavos," Corlys continued, resting a hand on Laenor's shoulder. "The Sealord understands what I understand, that the Triarchy's stranglehold benefits no one except those three squabbling cities."
Laenor leaned against the polished railing, feeling the vibration of the ship cutting through waves. He missed Seasmoke terribly, that familiar presence in his mind had grown distant these past weeks, though never completely absent. Still, being aboard the legendary Sea Snake offered its own form of excitement.
"Tell me about your first voyage again, Father," he requested, knowing the story well but enjoying the animation it brought to Corlys's face.
Corlys laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Ah, that first journey east! I was barely twenty, with more ambition than sense." He gazed out at the horizon, momentarily lost in memory. "Nine great voyages I made, but that first one... nothing compares to seeing Yi Ti and Leng for the first time."
"And you doubled House Velaryon's wealth with that single voyage," Laenor added, unable to keep the admiration from his voice.
"Indeed I did! The merchants at court called me mad when I set sail with three ships loaded with Westerosi goods. 'What could those eastern savages possibly want from us?' they sneered." Corlys's imitation of pompous merchants made Laenor snicker. "They weren't laughing when I returned with holds full of spices worth their weight in gold, silks that queens would kill for, and jade so fine it seemed to glow from within."
A sudden gust of wind sent spray across the deck, and Laenor blinked away the saltwater from his eyes. His father seemed not to notice, too caught up in his tale.
"The second voyage was harder," Corlys's voice dropped slightly. "I pushed farther than any Westerosi had gone before, all the way to Asshai-by-the-Shadow."
"Where you lost half your crew," Laenor said quietly.
Corlys nodded, his expression somber. "The Shadow Lands take their toll." He shook himself, as if dispelling dark memories. "But that's a story for when you're older."
The captain approached, offering a respectful nod. "Lord Velaryon, we'll be passing the Pentoshi headlands within the hour. Should we maintain our current course?"
"Yes, hug the coastline until we're well past Andalos. Then we'll cut northeast toward Braavos." Corlys turned to Laenor with a conspiratorial smile once the captain had departed. "Want to know the real reason we're taking this route?"
He gestured at Laenor to follow him to his cabin.
"So we're avoiding their waters to prevent them from reporting our movements?" Laenor guessed.
"Precisely! This meeting with the Sealord must remain as quiet as possible. If word reaches the Triarchy that House Velaryon and Braavos are forming an alliance..." Corlys dragged his finger across his throat in a dramatic gesture.
Laenor frowned. "But I thought the Iron Throne remained neutral in this conflict?"
"Officially, yes." Corlys's expression turned calculating. "Jaehaerys prefers to let the Free Cities squabble amongst themselves. 'Not our concern,' he says." The mimicry of the king's voice was subtle but unmistakable. "But House Velaryon's prosperity depends on free trade in these waters."
A pair of sailors hustled past, adjusting the rigging as the wind shifted. Corlys watched their movements with an expert eye before ducking inside the cabin.
The room was filled by maps and nautical charts. "Pay attention now," Corlys said, his finger tracing a line south of the Stepstones on a weathered map. "Most lords concern themselves only with what lies between Westeros and Essos, but the true wealth of the world lies beyond."
"The Narrow Sea isn't just a body of water, son. It's the center of the known world's economy. Look—" He guided Laenor to a spot where they could see more of the coastline. "From here, goods flow from all corners of Essos to Westeros. Spices from Yi Ti, silk from Leng, wines from the Arbor, timber from the North..."
"Most lords concern themselves only with what lies between Westeros and Essos, but the true wealth of the world lies beyond."
Laenor leaned closer, studying the detailed rendering of coastlines and islands. His father's maps were legendary for their precision, each one representing knowledge paid for in blood and gold.
"South of the Stepstones," Corlys continued, "lies the Summer Sea, and within it, the Summer Islands." His voice took on the animated quality it always did when discussing far-off lands. "Seventeen major islands and dozens of smaller ones, home to a people whose ships are unmatched in all the world."
"The swan ships," Laenor said, remembering tales he'd heard from sailors.
Corlys's eyebrows rose in pleased surprise. "Indeed! Made from rare goldenheart wood that grows nowhere else. Stronger than oak, yet lighter, allowing their ships to venture into deep waters where our cogs would founder."
His father picked up a small wooden box from his desk and opened it to reveal a tiny carved bow. "Goldenheart makes the finest bows in the known world as well. This is just a model, but a real one can punch through plate armor at two hundred yards."
Laenor whistled, genuinely impressed. "And the Stepstones control access to these islands?"
"Precisely!" Corlys slapped the table. "You're thinking now. The Summer Islanders can bypass the Stepstones with their superior vessels, but our merchant ships can't risk those deep waters. And that's why—"
"—the Triarchy's control of the Stepstones is strangling our trade," Laenor finished, connecting the pieces.
Corlys grinned wolfishly. "Exactly. But it's not just about the Summer Islands." He swept his hand across the map, moving eastward. "Beyond lies Sothoryos, a death trap of disease and monsters, but with ivory and gold for those brave or foolish enough to skirt its shores."
Laenor studied the map with growing fascination. In his previous life, he'd been fascinated by geography and history, but this was different, this was living history, with his father as the primary source.
"And here," Corlys tapped a narrow strait on the eastern edge of the map, "are the Straits of Qarth, also called the Jade Gates."
"Why Jade Gates?" Laenor asked.
"Because they're the doorway to the Jade Sea," Corlys explained, his voice taking on a reverent quality. "And to pass through them is to enter a world of riches beyond imagining."
His father pulled another map from the stack, this one showing lands farther east than any Laenor had seen before. The parchment was newer, the ink fresher, one of Corlys's own creations.
"Qarth stands as the gatekeeper between our world and the Far East," Corlys said, pointing to an elegantly rendered city on the straits. "The Qartheen call themselves 'the Greatest City that Ever Was or Will Be,' and while that's horseshit—" he winked at Laenor, who suppressed a giggle, "—they're not entirely wrong about their importance."
Laenor traced the unfamiliar coastlines with his finger. "And beyond Qarth?"
"Ah!" Corlys's eyes lit up. "That's where the true wonders begin. The Jade Sea itself, where the waters actually do take on a greenish hue during certain seasons. And along its shores..."
He pointed to a vast landmass. "Yi Ti, the Golden Empire. A land so ancient that the First Men were still living in caves when their first emperor ruled. Their cities make King's Landing look like a fishing village."
Laenor's eyes widened. "You've been there?"
"Three times," Corlys confirmed with no small measure of pride. "On my first voyage, I returned with spices, silks, and jade worth twice House Velaryon's annual income. The Yi Ti nobles pay twenty times a spice's weight in gold if it's rare enough."
His father reached into a drawer and withdrew a small silk pouch. Opening it carefully, he sprinkled a few red threads onto the desk. "Saffron. Each thread is a stigma from a specific crocus flower. It takes thousands of flowers to make a single pound."
Laenor picked up one of the delicate threads, amazed that something so small could be so valuable.
"And here," Corlys continued, pointing to a large island off Yi Ti's coast, "is Leng. A place of mystery, with jungles hiding ruins older than human memory. The Lengii are the tallest people in the known world, I've seen men nearly eight feet tall walking their streets."
Laenor tried to imagine such people and found his mind struggling with the concept. "What do they trade in?"
"Jade, primarily. The finest jade in the world comes from Leng, with colors you can't find anywhere else." Corlys opened another box, revealing a small carving of a dragon in a deep emerald green. "This piece cost me more than a good war horse."
The intricacy of the carving was breathtaking, each scale perfectly rendered despite being smaller than a grain of rice.
"It's beautiful," Laenor said honestly.
Corlys nodded, carefully returning the jade dragon to its box. "And that's just what I could bring back. Some treasures can't be transported, the giant bonsai of Yi Ti where trees are shaped over decades, the singing stones of Leng that hum when the tide rises."
His father's face grew serious. "But the most valuable thing I brought back wasn't gold or spice or jade. It was knowledge." He tapped his temple. "Trade routes, political alliances, weaknesses in harbor defenses, languages and customs that no Westerosi had documented before."
Laenor nodded slowly, understanding dawning. "Information is power."
"More than that," Corlys said, leaning forward. "Information is survival."
"Power, comes only from seeing the whole board when others see only the pieces in front of them. The Triarchy thinks controlling the Stepstones makes them masters of trade. They don't realize that by squeezing too hard, they're forcing us to look for alternatives."
"They claim they've made these waters safer by clearing out the pirates," Corlys continued, his voice hardening. "And they did, I'll grant them that. But they've merely replaced random piracy with organized extortion."
"How bad are the tolls?" Laenor asked.
"Bad enough that some smaller merchants have abandoned the Stepstones route entirely. They sail all the way around Dorne now, adding weeks to their journeys, rather than pay what the Triarchy demands." Corlys shook his head in disgust. "And for larger ships? They seized three Velaryon vessels last year when I refused their special assessment on Driftmark goods."
Laenor's eyes widened. "They stole our ships? Why didn't we fight back?"
"Politics," Corlys spat the word like it tasted foul. "The King refused to grant me permission to retaliate. Said it might provoke a larger conflict." He gripped the railing, knuckles whitening. "As if the Triarchy would dare challenge a dragon."
The implication hung in the air between them. Laenor thought of Seasmoke, growing larger with each passing month, and of his mother's dragon Meleys, already one of the most fearsome beasts in the realm.
"The Sealord's no fool," Corlys calmed slightly, leaning against the railing. "He knows what's happening. The Triarchy's toll regime is squeezing Braavosi merchants just as hard as ours. But Braavos won't move against them alone."
"Because of their navy?" Laenor asked.
"Partly that. The Triarchy's combined fleet is formidable. But it's also about precedent." Corlys pointed toward the distant coastline. "Braavos was founded by escaped slaves. Their hatred of slavery runs bone-deep. But they're pragmatists too. They trade with slave cities because business is business."
Laenor frowned, trying to parse the politics. "But the Triarchy aren't enslaving people. They're just charging tolls."
Corlys laughed, the sound carried away by the wind. "Ah, but that's where you're wrong, son. The Triarchy's strength comes from their slave trade. Those galleys that patrol the Stepstones? Rowed by slaves. The wealth that funds their navies? Built on the backs of slaves.
A crewman approached with a flagon of watered wine, and Corlys took a deep swig before passing it to Laenor, who accepted a smaller sip.
"So Braavos won't act alone because they fear appearing hypocritical," Laenor concluded.
"Smart lad." Corlys nodded. "But with House Velaryon, and by extension, the Iron Throne, as partners? That gives them the moral cover they need."
Laenor looked at the maps on the wall."But we don't have the Iron Throne's support. King Jaehaerys wouldn't commit.
Corlys's expression hardened. "The old man's too grief-stricken to see beyond his own castle walls. And Prince Baelon..." He shook his head. "Too cautious by half. But we don't need their express permission, just their tacit approval."
"And that's why we're sailing to Braavos? To form an alliance against the Triarchy?"
"Alliance is such a formal word." Corlys winked. "Let's call it a mutually beneficial arrangement between like-minded parties with complementary resources."
Laenor couldn't help but laugh. "That sounds like something Mother would say."
"Where do you think I learned to be diplomatic?" Corlys grinned. "Your mother could sweet-talk a Dothraki into wearing silk. Speaking of which.." he glanced at the sun's position, "Your tutor will be wanting you below for your lessons soon.
Laenor groaned. Even at sea, his mother insisted on continuing his education. High Valyrian conjugations and the histories of the Free Cities weren't nearly as interesting as learning the workings of the ship
"Just a bit longer?" he pleaded.
Corlys's eyes softened. "A bit. But first, a question: if you were the Sealord of Braavos, what would convince you to join forces with House Velaryon against the Triarchy?"
Laenor thought carefully, recalling what he knew about Braavosi culture and politics. "They value their independence and hate slavery. So I'd emphasize how the Triarchy's growing power threatens both." He paused, considering. "And I'd offer something they can't get elsewhere."
"Such as?"
"Dragon fire." Laenor looked directly into his father's. "Braavos has ships, but they don't have dragons. Together, we could break the Triarchy's hold on the Stepstones completely."
Corlys's smile widened. "And that, my son, is exactly why you're coming to this meeting." He clapped Laenor on the shoulder.
"The Sealord of Braavos shares our frustration with the Triarchy. Together, our naval forces could break their control of the Stepstones."
"Without the Iron Throne's approval?" Laenor asked, surprised by his father's boldness.
Corlys smiled, a dangerous glint in his eye. "Sometimes, son, it's better to ask forgiveness than permission. Especially when dealing with kings who don't understand the sea."
A shout from outside interrupted them, and Corlys strode out quickly, followed by Laenor. The lookout had spotted something. Corlys frowned, reaching for the Myrish far-eye tucked into his belt.
"Three ships, flying Pentoshi colors," the lookout called down. "Coming around the headland!"
"Seven hells," Corlys muttered, extending the far-eye to its full length. He studied the approaching vessels for a long moment before passing the instrument to Laenor. "Have a look. This is what trouble looks like at sea."
Laenor peered through the brass tube, adjusting it until the distant ships came into focus. They were sleek galleys, moving with purpose rather than the meandering pace of merchant vessels,
"Are they coming for us?" he asked, trying to keep his voice steady.
"Not directly for us, I think," Corlys replied, taking back the far-eye. "But they're patrol ships, and they'll certainly report our passage if they identify us."
He barked orders to the captain, who immediately began shouting commands to the crew. The Sea Snake's deck erupted into controlled chaos as sailors rushed to adjust sails and change course.
"We're turning toward open water?" Laenor asked, noting their new heading.
"Yes. Better to risk a day in deeper seas than let those Pentoshi lapdogs report our movements." Corlys clapped a hand on Laenor's shoulder. "Besides, this gives me a chance to show you how the Sea Snake outpaces pursuit. She's the fastest ship in these waters, I designed her that way."
As they cut away from the coastline, the wind caught their sails more fully, and Laenor felt the ship surge forward like a living thing. His father's face lit up with fierce joy as he moved among the crew, offering encouragement and adjusting their course with small, precise instructions.
By sunset, the Pentoshi ships had fallen far behind, visible only as distant specks on the horizon. Corlys returned to Laenor's side as they stood at the stern, watching their pursuers dwindle into insignificance.
___________________________
The sea beneath them called to Laenor, its vast presence hummed against his consciousness like a living entity. He moved to the port side railing where fewer sailors were working.
He closed his eyes, letting his awareness sink beneath the wooden hull. The Nereid Kyrie stirred within him, a power that had been growing stronger with each passing day at sea. Unlike the sporadic practice sessions at Driftmark, being constantly surrounded by ocean, had awakened something primal in his connection to water.
Laenor extended his senses downward, feeling the currents sliding past the ship's keel. Fish darted in schools below, their movements creating tiny disturbances he could sense like ripples in his mind. Deeper still, larger shapes moved with deliberate purpose, a pod of whales perhaps, their massive bodies displacing water in rhythmic pulses.
A grin spread across his face as he reached out with the Nereid Kyrie's power, he hummed softly, and his eyes glowed lavender briefly. The sea responded instantly, currents shifting subtly to cradle the Sea Snake, lifting her slightly higher in the water and reducing the drag against her hull.
"Seven hells, I've never felt her move this smoothly," muttered a weathered sailor nearby, running his hand along the railing with a puzzled expression. "It's like she's gliding on glass."
Another crewman nodded in agreement. "Strangest thing. No chop at all, yet the wind's still strong in our sails. It's unnatural, is what it is."
Laenor bit back a laugh, maintaining his concentration. This was becoming easier by the day. At first, manipulating the water had required intense focus, but now it felt as natural as breathing. The sea wanted to help him, that was the most surprising discovery. It wasn't about forcing his will upon the water but rather suggesting a partnership.
He sensed something large moving beneath them, curiosity drawing it upward. With a subtle mental nudge, he discouraged the creature from approaching too closely. No need to frighten the crew with an unexpected visitor.
"What are you smiling about?" his father asked, suddenly appearing beside him.
Laenor opened his eyes, careful not to break his connection to the water. "Just enjoying the ride," he replied innocently.
Corlys narrowed his eyes, glancing from his son to the impossibly smooth wake trailing behind the ship. "Remarkably calm waters today," he observed with deliberate casualness. "Especially considering we're now in deeper seas where the swells should be higher."
Just lucky, I guess," Laenor shrugged, unable to keep the mischievous twinkle from his eyes.
His father leaned closer, voice dropping to a whisper. "You're doing this, aren't you? This is that water magic your mother mentioned."
There was no point denying it. "I'm just helping us along," Laenor admitted quietly. "The ship moves faster when she doesn't have to fight the waves."
Corlys straightened, looking around at his crew before returning his gaze to Laenor. "How long can you maintain this?"
"Hours, if needed," Laenor said, surprising himself with the confidence in his answer. "It gets easier the more I practice."
A slow, calculating smile spread across his father's face. "So my son commands dragons in the sky and waves at sea." He shook his head in wonder. "The gods have blessed House Velaryon indeed."
"Or cursed us, depending on who you ask," Laenor replied, thinking back to King Jaehaerys's warnings.
"Bah!" Corlys waved dismissively. "Only fools fear power they don't understand." He gripped the railing, eyes fixed on the horizon. "Can you make us go faster?"
Laenor considered this. "I think so. But it might be noticeable to the crew."
"Let them notice," Corlys decided after a moment's thought. "They're loyal men, and sailors love a good mystery. Better they attribute it to the legendary Sea Snake's design than know the truth, but either way, we'll reach Braavos ahead of schedule."
With his father's blessing, Laenor deepened his connection to the water. He began to hum a different melody now, something more driving and rhythmic. Beneath the ship, currents shifted and aligned, pushing the vessel forward with increasing speed.
"Seven bloody hells," gasped the helmsman as he felt the wheel pull in his hands. "She's running like she's being chased by the Drowned God himself!"
Corlys laughed aloud, the sound carried away by the wind. "That's my girl!" he shouted, patting the mast affectionately as if the ship deserved the credit. To the crew, he called out, "She knows we're heading home to Braavos, boys! The Sea Snake always knows the fastest route!"
The sailors cheered, attributing the sudden burst of speed to some mysterious quality of their famous vessel. Only Corlys knew the truth, standing proudly beside his son as Laenor worked his magic.
"How fast can we go?" Corlys asked quietly, excitement dancing in his eyes.
Laenor grinned, feeling the water respond to his will with growing eagerness. "Let's find out."
He reached deeper into the sea's power, directing the currents more forcefully. The ship lurched forward, her bow rising slightly as she cut through the waves with supernatural speed. The sailors scrambled to adjust the sails to account for their newfound velocity, shouting in amazement as the Sea Snake practically flew across the water's surface.
"Your mother never mentioned you could do this much," Corlys said, genuine awe in his voice.
"I couldn't, before," Laenor admitted. "But being out here, surrounded by it..." He gestured at the endless expanse of ocean. "It's like the sea wants to help. Like it recognizes me."
Corlys's eyebrows shot up, and he leaned against the railing, studying his son with newfound interest. "Show me what else you can do," he whispered, excitement dancing in his eyes. "Something small, mind you. Nothing that would spook the crew more than they already are."
Laenor glanced around, confirming that most sailors were occupied with the sails and rigging, adjusting to their inexplicable increase in speed. He grinned mischievously at his father, then focused his attention on a patch of water about twenty feet from the starboard side.
With a soft hum under his breath, he extended his consciousness into the sea. The water there began to stir, swirling upward in defiance of nature. A thin spout rose from the surface, no thicker than a man's arm, twisting like a serpent as it climbed six feet into the air.
"By all the gods," Corlys breathed, his weathered face transformed with childlike wonder. "That's.."
"Watch this," Laenor whispered, his voice tinged with laughter. He flicked his fingers subtly, and the spout morphed, its top reshaping into something resembling a dragon's head. The water-dragon opened its mouth in a silent roar, then twisted through the air as though flying alongside their ship.
Corlys slapped his thigh, barely containing his delight. "You little sorcerer! Does your mother know you can create water puppets?"
"Not exactly." Laenor concentrated harder, dispersing the dragon and instead pulling up several smaller streams that took the forms of leaping fish. They arced through the air, their translucent bodies catching sunlight before splashing back into the sea. "I've been practicing in private. The fish are easier than the dragon."
A sailor walked past, and Laenor quickly dissolved his watery creations, leaving only ripples on the surface that could be attributed to natural causes. When the man had passed, Corlys leaned closer.
"Try something bigger," he urged, eyes gleaming with excitement. "Over there, where none of the crew is looking."
Laenor hesitated. "It takes more concentration for larger manipulations."
"I'll keep watch," Corlys promised. "Go on."
Taking a deep breath, Laenor focused on a spot about fifty yards from the ship. This time, he didn't just touch the surface but reached deeper, gathering more water. A bulge appeared, growing larger as he pulled more sea upward. With careful concentration, he shaped the rising mass into the form of a horse, complete with flowing mane and tail made of spray and foam.
The water-horse reared up, its front hooves pawing at the air, standing nearly six feet feet tall at its peak. It held its form for several heartbeats before Laenor felt the strain of maintaining such a large creation. With a final flourish, he made the horse bow toward the ship before collapsing back into the sea with a distant splash.
"By the Warrior!" Corlys laughed, clapping his hand over his mouth to stifle the sound. "A bloody water horse! Could you make a kraken next? Or perhaps a sea serpent to terrify those Pentoshi ships if they catch up?"
Laenor slumped slightly against the railing, the effort catching up with him. "Perhaps. But it might give the crew heart attacks if a massive sea monster suddenly appeared."
"Fair point." Corlys draped an arm around his son's shoulders. "You know, when your mother told me about your... talents, I thought she was exaggerating. I should have known better than to doubt Rhaenys."
"She doesn't know everything I can do," Laenor admitted. "The connection grows stronger every day we're at sea.
A sailor approached with a question about their heading, and Corlys stepped away to address it. When he returned, his expression had grown more serious, though his eyes still crinkled with barely suppressed amusement.
"This gift of yours," he said quietly, "it could change everything about naval warfare. Can you imagine? Velaryon ships sailing at impossible speeds, outmaneuvering every enemy, while water beasts terrorize opposing fleets?" He shook his head in wonder. "Dragons in the sky and sea serpents in the water. House Velaryon would be unstoppable."
Laenor thought about King Jaehaerys's warnings regarding power and monopolies. "It might be best to keep this between us for now," he suggested carefully. "At least until I understand the full extent of what I can do."
"Wise," Corlys agreed, though Laenor could see the calculations already forming behind his father's eyes. "But once we're home, you and I will explore these abilities further. Somewhere private, away from prying eyes."
Laenor nodded, already imagining the possibilities. With practice, how much more could he accomplish? Could he create fog to hide their ships? Calm entire storm systems? Part waters to reveal hidden treasures on the seabed?
"One last thing before we're interrupted again," Corlys said with a conspiratorial wink. "Make me something small. Something just for us."
Smiling, Laenor dipped his hand into a bucket of seawater nearby. As he withdrew his fingers, a thin stream followed, rising up and forming a perfect miniature replica of the Sea Snake herself, complete with tiny billowing sails no larger than his thumbnail. The water-ship sailed through the air, circling around his father's delighted face before Laenor guided it back into the bucket with a quiet splash.
"Magnificent," Corlys whispered. "Absolutely magnificent."
The captain called for Lord Velaryon from the helm, and Corlys straightened his shoulders, composing his features into their usual commanding expression.
"We'll speak more of this later," he promised Laenor. "For now, keep us moving swiftly. The sooner we reach Braavos, the sooner our real work begins." He started toward the helm, then paused and looked back. "And Laenor? I'm proud of you, son. More than you know."
x________________x
Hope you enjoy the chapter!
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