The King's Feast 4: Corlys I
"And we are sure that my brother took a dragon egg with him to Pentos?" the King asked.
"Aye, Your Grace. All those that were still at Dragonstone when we retook it can affirm that to be true." Lyonel Strong replied.
"Gods be good, what can that man be possibly planning," croaked Lyman Beesbury.
"If he plans on gathering sellswords for a full-fledged rebellion…" said Ser Otto Hightower.
"My brother would not rebel against me, Otto." The King interrupted. "We have our differences, but I doubt even he capable of such a thing."
"And what of the Triarchy, Your Grace?" Corlys asked. "They have been imposing tariffs on more ships passing through the Stepstones following the news of Prince Daemon's exodus to Pentos."
"Your Grace, Lord Corlys has the right of this one. If Daemon chooses to ally with the Triarchy, the consequences of this could be… devastating for the realm." Otto Hightower said.
All this time he was against taking action in the Stepstones, but now that Prince Daemon Targaryen is involved, he chooses to take my side.
"Otto, please. Your mislike of my brother blinds you to the simple truths. My brother is said to have taken up a manse in Pentos and done nothing more than that. If he were to head south to Lys, or Tyrosh, we'd hear of it." The King assured. "And Lord Corlys, I thought I was correct in thinking that the betrothal of myself to your daughter slowed down the Triarchy's imposing of tariffs."
The King either does not see this as a problem, or chooses not to see.
"That is correct, but the betrothal was many moons ago now. The amount of influence the Triarchy have exerted since then has been slowly increasing. It's a small amount, but it is noticeable, and will get bigger. This is why we shouldn't have delayed the marriage for so long, Your Grace."
"The Lady Laena is still young, and shall remain young for some more time." The King countered. "I still do not see this as large of an issue as you make it out to be. The Triarchy's actions has pretty much cleared out piracy in the Stepstones, and I'd say a small amount of tariffs are worth the price for our ships not being raided by corsairs."
"Understood, Your Grace."
In fact, Corlys did not understand. How could the King be so passive in the face of a problem. The best way to deal with a storm is to sail through the storm. Even trying to sail around it is a solution, but hiding below the deck and pretending the storm doesn't exist is not.
"Thank you, Lord Corlys. The issue is declared finished, I say. Are there any other matters that concern this council today?"
"Yes, Your Grace." Replied the Grand Maester. "Your uncle, the Archmaester Vaegon, sent a raven from Oldtown. He says is unable to attend the wedding, but sends his regards, and hopes your marriage shall be… a fruitful one."
The rightful King, if some were to be asked.
King Viserys gave a small smile. "That's good. Send a raven back to the Citadel thanking him for his kind words."
"Absolutely, Your Grace." The Grand Maester responded, before making a small glance towards Otto Hightower.
"Lord Strong, is the City Watch well prepared for the upcoming wedding? Lords from across the realm are to be coming to King's Landing, and we cannot have thugs roaming the streets as well as the surrounding kingswood in the lead up to the wedding." Otto Hightower asked.
"Yes, Lord Hand. My son has ensured that the City Watch have been trained well and are prepared for the coming weeks."
"That is good to hear. And I presume there will be no displays of… barbarity like there was for the late Prince Baelon's tourney?"
"I can assure you that, there will be none of the sort." Lyonel Strong responded, while the King smiled, sarcastically.
The remainder of the council meeting was the usual: the Blackwoods and Brackens were involved in another land dispute, the Night's Watch petitioned the Crown for more recruits, and the Marcher Lords of the Stormlands had pushed back some Dornish incursions and were once again asking for the help of House Targaryen's dragons.
"If that is all, then we are done here. Council dismissed!" declared the King.
The council members all dismissed themselves from the chambers, all except Corlys.
"Your Grace, might I walk with you to the gardens?"
In the royal gardens waiting were Corlys' wife Princess Rhaenys, the Queen Who Never Was (or the Queen Who Should've Been as per Corlys), and their daughter, Laena, who was to marry the King. They had one of their weekly talks planned today, something they had organised so they could know each other more prior to their marriage.
"Absolutely, Corlys. In fact, I wanted to speak with you in private." The King responded warmly as they exited the council chambers and down the hallways towards the garden. "Ser Erryk, Ser Criston, please, give do us some space as we talk."
"Yes, Your Grace." The two Kingsguard members, dressed in their milky white armor and their long, draping white cloaks which dragged across the ground, said, to give Corlys and the King room to talk in private.
"So, Corlys, tell me, what does your daughter truly think about our marriage? All she tells me whenever we talk is that it is a great honor for her to marry, and that she would be a dutiful wife and bear me many children. Does she fear marriage to me, is she repulsed by me? I want you answer me truthfully, none of this… politicking speak and… riddles that we all love to use in council meetings."
He still wants an out from this marriage, it seems.
"Well… Your Grace… In truth, Laena is just a girl, but she is wise beyond her years, and knows the benefit this union shall bring to both our houses. She… recognises that she must do her duties in some years time, but for now, she is… excited."
"Excited?"
"Laena is obsessed with dragons, I know that whenever you talk, she asks about Balerion, and the great dragons of Old Valyria. Nothing interests her more, and you being the last rider of the Black Dread is something she… admires, very much so."
"Unfortunately for Laena, the Black Dread is long dead by now." The King laughed. "She asks me the same, all about the dragons and how to claim and ride them. Almost every conversation we have, she mentions that Vhagar is routinely spotted by traders arriving at Spicetown, and once she told me that even here in King's Landing, she hears the call of the old she-dragon."
Corlys' eyes widened. "Well, that is something. Laena has always been a strong-minded, fiery girl. She takes after her mother in that."
"Aye, she may be only half Targaryen in blood, but she it seems has a good helping of dragonfire in her veins."
More dragonfire in her veins than you, Your Grace.
"If she grows into a woman with half as much as fire as her mother, then I pray to the Gods for mine own sake. Aemma was always more Arryn than she was Targaryen, in truth," he replied, with a hint sadness in his voice.
It is the memory of his first wife that holds him back from this.
"Your Grace, I understand you may still have your doubts about this. And I do not envy your position, at all, Your Grace, especially with the wounds of Queen Aemma still so fresh. She was your first wife, your first love, and sometimes you probably think you may never love again after this."
Corlys' thoughts went back to his first love, a common born woman named Marilda, who he liked to call Mouse, that he met on his travels. He scarcely saw Marilda, since she was a seafarer too, so they eventually drifted apart over the years, especially after he married Rhaenys. The last time he saw Marilda, she had given birth to two boys, Corlys', named Addam and Alyn. Though Corlys' love for Rhaenys was much stronger than it had ever been for Marilda, he still missed her company, even though she was likely alive somewhere at sea commanding her own crew with young Addam and Alyn at her side.
"I know that this may sound absurd this soon, but in time, you may grow to love my daughter, mayhaps even more than you did love Queen Aemma. Only the Gods know. In truth, I would have been willing to hold off this marriage until my daughter came of age… and so your wounds would heal, but combining our houses and showing our strength to the Triarchy is imperative for the needs of the realm, and the needs of the realm comes above all our desires, Your Grace."
The King gulped.
"Thank you, Lord Corlys, that was… something."
The remainder of their walk to the gardens was in silence. Whether because Corlys' words had an impact on the King, or if Corlys' words had just opened the King's wounds further, Corlys did not know.
They arrived at the gardens to find Princess Rhaenys lounging on a wooden bench, while Laena stood nervously next to her. Rhaenys was wearing a sea-green gown made of the finest silk, trimmed with silver Myrish lace, and the seahorse of House Velaryon was stitched in cloth-of-silver onto its bodice. Laena wore a dark blue dress with sleeves of silver, and a silver necklace which was crusted with the finest diamonds from the mines of Norvos.
"Your Grace." Rhaenys said, curteously and with a smile on a her face.
"Rhaenys," the King responded, just as cordially. "I pray you are well. Lady Laena, shall we walk now?"
"I would be honored, Your Grace." Laena replied, with all the grace and decorum of a trained noblewoman.
As the King and Laena, who was half his size, flanked by the Kingsguards in their pale armor, walked off into the gardens, the smile on Rhaenys' face came off and was replaced with a look of sadness and regret.
"I still feel she is too young." She said, sighing.
"I know. But there was no other option." Corlys responded, taking a seat next to his wife. "The marriage provides a warning to the Triarchy and would unite our houses, once again. It may not be justice for all those years ago, but it sure does come close."
"Justice?" Rhaenys scoffed. "I've stopped caring about justice and the council so many years ago, Corlys."
"I've come to terms with it now, and I think it's best time you do too. Your obsession with it may very well doom our family." Rhaenys pleaded, her purple eyes looking directly into Corlys'.
"You were robbed, my dear. The least we can do to right this wrong is to place a boy of your blood on the Iron Throne as recompense for that farce of a council."
"How could I have been robbed if I never had the throne in the first place? The betrothal is done, and our blood shall be on the throne soon enough, what more is there than that?" Rhaenys frowned. "Tell me, my love, is it truly your desire for justice that fuels this, or is it your endless desire for power and your ambition to place your blood upon the Iron Throne?"