The discovery of the dragon skeletons was still the talk of the manor when Hugh Hammer returned, his heavy boots thundering on the stone floors. He wasn't alone.
"Your Highness, I've brought someone," Hugh said, his voice brimming with excitement. "He says he knows the secret—he can reforge Valyrian steel."
Aegon's eyes widened. Valyrian steel was the rarest treasure in the world. Only a handful of smiths in Qohor claimed to know the spells to rework it. "You captured a master smith? How?"
"I didn't capture him. He's one of Hidolf's people. I only just learned of his talent." Hugh paused, coughing awkwardly. "Bring the greatswords, Your Highness. You'll want to see this."
A figure was led into the room—a person even taller and more robust than Hugh himself. Upon seeing Aegon, the giant immediately collapsed onto both knees, burying their face against the floor in a prostrate display of submission.
"Skaði, get up," Hugh muttered, his mouth twitching. "You aren't a slave. Just a bow or a knee will do. Forgive her, Your Highness... she isn't... very bright."
"Did you say she?" Ser Arryk blurted out, staring in disbelief.
"She's thirteen," Hugh said, though his voice lacked any conviction.
"Thirteen?!" Ser Loren's eyes nearly popped out of his head. "Hugh, if this is a joke, it's a poor one."
The girl, Skaði, stood up. She was a titan in coarse linen, easily 2.2 meters (7'2") tall, with shoulders like a draft horse and a face still soft with childhood.
GRRRRUMBLE—
A sound like distant thunder filled the hall. Aegon looked around for a storm before realizing it came from the girl's stomach. She turned a deep shade of red and bowed her head in shame.
"Are you hungry, Skaði?" Aegon asked tentatively.
Aegon sighed. He had meant to discuss metallurgy, but a hungry giant was a dangerous one. "Arryk, have the kitchens send everything. And I mean everything."
The Girl Who Eats Like a Dragon
Half an hour later, the council watched in silent horror. Skaði was on her third five-pound loaf of white bread. She had already inhaled five large mutton chops, ten fried eggs, two plates of thick-cut bacon, and three cups of warm milk.
"By the Seven," Aegon whispered, watching her devour a roasted suckling pig that had just arrived. "She makes Aemond look like a picky eater."
Aegon looked at her thoughtfully. She reminded him of tales of Gregor Clegane, but Skaði was barely a teenager. If she was this size while malnourished, what would she become with the resources of a Prince behind her?
Finally, she wiped her mouth and gave a simple, honest smile. "I am full. Thank you, generous Master."
"I am Prince Aegon," he corrected. "Now, to business. Can you reforge these?" He gestured to the two massive Valyrian steel greatswords Hugh had brought from the Stepstones.
Skaði's eyes lit up the moment her gaze landed on the dark, rippled steel. She leaned forward, stroking the blades with the reverence of a priestess. "Yes. I can forge any steel, including Valyrian. And obsidian. And meteoric iron. Even dragonbone."
Aegon sat forward. "Dragonbone?"
"My previous master collected it," she said. "I am best at it. Valyrian steel is magical—folded thousands of times to remove impurities, held together by spells. Ordinary fire cannot melt it, even dragonflame is not enough. But my father taught me the secret of the furnace before he died."
"Good," Aegon said, his mind already spinning with possibilities. "I want these two greatswords reforged into four hand-and-a-half swords."
The plan was clear: one for himself, and one for each of his siblings—Helaena, Aemond, and Daeron.
"I need a specific forge built," Skaði said. "Do you have requirements for the design?"
"I do," Aegon stood up. "I'm going to take you to the Dragonpit. I want you to see four dragons. I want the essence and characteristics of those four beasts imprinted into the soul of these blades."
He looked at the girl—this thirteen-year-old titan who held the secrets of the Freehold in her calloused hands. "Come. Let's see if the dragons approve of their new smith."
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