Menace and Xilou stepped onto the terrace, where Rhaegar had been waiting for quite some time.
Menace spoke first. "Your Highness, I've arranged for the craftsmen from the slave ships to work in the Dragonpit and allowed the children to stay and learn trades."
"As for the scholars you instructed me to train, I've taken time to personally teach the children. There are even one or two with remarkable talent."
Rhaegar nodded and asked, "How many craftsmen are there in King's Landing?"
Before his departure, Rhaegar had set several long-term strategic plans in motion.
Controlling the city's craftsmen was one of them.
Menace replied, "Including but not limited to blacksmiths, carpenters, and masons, there are roughly a few thousand craftsmen in the city."
Craftsmen earned their living through skilled work, typically managing to secure a modest but stable livelihood.
They were common members of the working class.
"Select some of the most skilled craftsmen to join the Dragonpit. There's no need to bother with the rest," Rhaegar said calmly.
Simply knowing the number of craftsmen was enough.
They could be summoned at any time when needed, and none would dare defy a royal order.
After finishing his report, Menace respectfully stepped back, maintaining a humble posture.
Xilou naturally stepped forward with a smile. "Your Highness, I've discovered a particularly talented girl. I'm planning to personally mentor her."
"Do as you wish, just don't neglect your primary duties," Rhaegar responded with confidence in Xilou's efficiency, giving little further instruction.
"I'll bring the girl to meet you personally later," Xilou said with a mysterious smile.
Rhaegar made no further remarks and gestured for them to withdraw, turning back to continue watching his younger siblings tame dragons.
---
At midday, the army of the Riverlands entered King's Landing.
The soldiers' armor and shields bore the sigils of their houses: a silver trout leaping on a field of red and blue stripes, a black shield with deadwood surrounded by ravens on a crimson background, a crimson warhorse on a golden shield, and red salmon emblems.
Various noble houses of the Riverlands had sent soldiers to King's Landing.
Lord Lyonel and his eldest son, Harwin, rode on horseback, receiving cheers from the townsfolk and becoming the focus of the scene.
Fully recovered, King Viserys emerged from the gates of the Red Keep alongside Rhaegar to personally welcome the army.
Upon seeing the King and the Prince, the army halted, and representatives from each house stepped forward to pay their respects.
Exuding an air of calm composure, Viserys graciously received the nobles of the Riverlands.
Rhaegar was tasked with entertaining two noble representatives.
"The Blackwood family extends its greetings to you, esteemed Prince," said a lean, dark-haired young man as he knelt on one knee to greet him solemnly.
"Rise. What is your name?" Rhaegar asked, casting a glance at the man, who appeared slightly older than himself, with calloused hands indicative of a warrior's life.
"Samwell Blackwood, Your Highness," the young man said proudly, his dark eyes shining with confidence.
Rhaegar was surprised. "The Samwell who dueled and killed Earl Bracken?"
He recalled that Samwell had once been one of Rhaenyra's suitors.
In pursuit of her favor, Samwell had dueled Earl Bracken and slain him.
Samwell's face flushed with excitement as he replied softly, "That would be me, Your Highness."
"You killed an adult man as a youth. You should be proud of yourself," Rhaegar remarked, noticing a hint of shyness in the young man.
Samwell chuckled awkwardly. "The fool from House Bracken was a disgrace—he practically impaled himself on my sword with that gut of his."
"Haha, I appreciate your modesty," Rhaegar said, laughing as he invited Samwell to return to the Red Keep with him.
Accompanying them were several young noblemen, most of whom were second sons or bastards seeking to forge their own paths.
Rhaegar welcomed them all, learning their names and conversing freely.
After understanding their circumstances, he refrained from making immediate offers, instead offering encouragement and subtly winning their trust.
---
The welcoming banquet commenced.
Nobles headed to the Red Keep, while soldiers were treated to food and drink.
Rhaegar sat with the young noblemen, a gentle smile on his face, exuding warmth and charm.
He listened to them talk about their dreams, carefully selecting a few promising individuals.
---
Rhaegar took a sip of sake and leaned back in his chair, absentmindedly playing with a ruby in his hand.
The ruby was about the size of a pigeon's egg, cut into an octagonal shape.
It felt warm and smooth as he rubbed it against his palm.
This ruby had been taken from the Red-Robed Witch.
It had played a crucial role in protecting her from being burned by dragonfire.
Rhaegar had assumed it was some kind of rare magical artifact.
But the explorers had failed to activate it.
"It can absorb flames—there's more to uncover," Rhaegar thought to himself.
He was certain the ruby was more than it appeared to be, but he had no idea how to harness its power.
Halfway through the banquet, Grand Maester Melos arrived in a hurry.
Panting from exertion, the elderly Grand Maester handed a sealed letter to Viserys.
"Your Grace, an urgent report from the Stepstones. You should prepare yourself."
Melos looked grim, his voice filled with concern.
Viserys took the letter, casting a glance at the gathered nobles below before reading it without betraying any emotion.
As he read from start to finish, the warmth in his expression faded, replaced by a deep frown.
Noticing this, Rhaegar rose from his seat, weaving through the crowded hall until he reached his father's side.
"What news, Father?"
Rhaegar asked in a low voice.
"Trouble in the Stepstones," Viserys said gravely. "The Dornish fleet attacked Bloodstone Isle, joining forces with the Kingdom of the Three Daughters to destroy all defenses. The Sea Snake's forces suffered heavy losses."
Rhaegar took the letter and read it line by line.
Just two days ago, Prince Martell of Dorne had once again allied with the Three Daughters, launching a pincer attack on the Sea Snake's fleet stationed at Bloodstone Isle.
Rhaenys had rushed to their aid on Meleys, and with Laenor's Sea Smoke, they burned a large number of enemy ships.
Only when Storm's End's patrol fleet arrived did the combined forces of Dorne and the Three Daughters finally retreat.
The Sea Snake was wounded, his soldiers had suffered over fifty percent casualties, and Bloodstone Isle was no longer secure.
"Damn it. The Dornish really are meddling in this war," Rhaegar cursed under his breath before speaking seriously. "Father, the Riverlands' forces are fully assembled. Tomorrow, I will lead them on dragonback to the Stepstones."
Just yesterday, King's Landing had received word that the White Harbor fleet had arrived at the Stepstones.
The fleets from Oldtown and Greenshield had also set sail and would arrive soon.
The Graftons of Gulltown were consolidating their forces, sending half their fleet in support.
The realm now had more than enough strength to conquer the Three Daughters.
Viserys' expression remained stern as he cautioned, "The Stepstones do need reinforcements, but the Riverlands' troops have never fought a naval battle. You must follow the Sea Snake's guidance—do not act recklessly."
Rhaegar's eyes flickered, and he nodded solemnly.
He understood his father's concerns.
The realm had been at peace for a long time. The Riverlands' troops hadn't just lacked experience in naval warfare—they had barely seen battle at all.
Their combat effectiveness remained uncertain.
"Aegon is still indulging himself in Honeywine. You'll be facing this war alone, so be careful," Viserys warned again, his tone filled with paternal concern.
Rhaegar acknowledged each caution with a nod.
After surviving an ambush by the mountain clans, his once-carefree nature had changed—he had become much more cautious.
Viserys summoned Laenor to discuss the details of the campaign.
After a brief discussion, Rhaegar was the first to leave.
As he stepped out of the hall, the gathered bastards and second sons exchanged glances before rising one after another to follow him.
In just a short exchange, Rhaegar had won them over—they were willing to stake their lives on him.
Noticing the movement, Rhaenyra excused herself from her conversation with the noblewomen, lifted the hem of her gown, and hurried after him.
Also leaving was Harwin Strong, who never let his gaze stray far from the princess.
(End of Chapter)