Chapter 11: A family

115 AC

I was pleased with how the construction effort has turned out. The main keep of my new castle was nearly complete, enough for me to reside in. It was made from black stones quarried in the Stormlands and transported here, as we hadn't been sure if there were stones suitable for castlemaking in the Stepstones.

The towers were still incomplete, and the walls still consisted of wooden palisades. I was hopeful that in another year it would be complete, however. It wouldn't be Highgarden or Winterfell, but I felt proud nonetheless. It was of my own design, after all.

Not to mention my settlement efforts. The majority of the settlers already had a roof over their heads, and only those who came recently still didn't have a house. Farming and industry were already beginning to take place. It was a good time too; winter would likely come later this year if these cold spells were any indication. A harvest now would be welcome.

If not for Dorne and the Triarchy's persistent hindering, we could've done a much quicker job. They took a lot of glee in raiding and sabotaging our work.

I was hoping we'd at least have a peaceful period as both powers took to wait and see, but I suppose they were too spooked by our progress. Too bad for them, but we were fully willing to reciprocate the gesture. I had been encouraging some privateers to raid Triarchy's and Dorne's shippings myself, privateers whose purpose and existence could be denied. Not to mention the effort of the man with whom I was currently dining.

"You've done a good job building this island." Daemon said. "My own keep was only half-done."

"Thank you, my prince." I answered. "It was a lot of work, and there are too many things left to do. Docks need to be expanded, and roads need to be built. A more complete fortification system. More watchtowers wouldn't be amiss."

As Father suspected, Daemon didn't spend a lot of time on the Stepstones. He left the construction effort on his island to his men and spent most of his time somewhere else. However, the few times he was present, the result spoke for itself, as pirate ships were burned to cinders. Our enemies, with all their petty schemes, could do nothing but scurry away.

Even the unpredictable nature of his visit could be beneficial to our purpose. The uncertainty of his presence led our enemies to fearful fits, I reckon.

"Any difficulties so far?" He asked.

"My share from the war is running thin, and I need to ask for help for funding from my father." I clicked my tongue. "It will be another loan to repay."

Prince Daemon's expression was a mixture of amusement and understanding. "Your father doesn't see it as a loan, Lord Corwyn. I'm sure he'll be happy to pay for developing his son's domain."

"Maybe, though I already prepared to repay the funds he gave me." I conceded.

Prince Daemon shook his head. "And the natives? How's your effort to subjugate them?"

"No problem so far. The people are accustomed to being ruled by one pirate lord after another, and from their perspective, we are no different." A more traditional lord would take offense at being compared to pirates, but Daemon merely nodded thoughtfully. "They hold neither loyalty nor animosity toward us."

"A subject that has no loyalty will be a problem for the ruler." Daemon warned in a tone that broke no argument. "You need to do something about them soon enough."

I nodded in understanding. "I'm aware. However, there's no better way to cultivate loyalty than through time and familiarity. I already hired them for some of the work necessary on the island. After we build a sept here, we can have a septon to preach the Faith as well. Religion will be another way to bind us together."

Daemon didn't speak, but his lips curled in noticeable distaste. I knew he didn't hold a high regard for the Faith, or 'Andal gods' as he called it. I heard from Mother that Daemon preferred the Valyrian gods, though I doubted he knew much of their rites and worships. How long has it been since any of us worshipped them in truth?

We sat in silence as we continued eating and drinking. After a moment, I began the talk again.

"I've just heard of the news. My condolences for the passing of your lady wife." I said.

We had no ravens trained from the Stepstones to the rest of the Seven Kingdoms yet. News of change trickling from the mainland slowly by way of ships and men. And how much had changed as I laboured here for a few months—weddings and alliances, birth and death.

Chief among them was news regarding the royal family. Queen Alicent gave birth to her fifth child, a daughter they named Visenya. Meanwhile, Lady Rhea Royce died in a riding accident.

"I appreciate your kind word." Daemon said, his voice unemotional, though there was a small smile on his mouth. "I was fond of my wife."

Because she was finally dead, if I had to take a guess.

"You seem well informed of the news from the Seven Kingdoms." Daemon spoke again.

"I do try to keep abreast of what's happening in our realm. Considering our circumstances, we can't afford to be ignorant."

"True. Your parents taught you well." Daemon leaned further back on his chair. "Speaking of family, I'm sure you know that Rhaenyra is heavy with child?"

"I know. I've heard of the news in my brother's letter." I said in a carefully neutral tone. "I heard she should give birth somewhere around the next month."

Daemon smirked. "I'm surprised your brother still finds the time to sire a child, even as he spends most of his time in Driftmark and my niece in Dragonstone. Good for them too. Securing her line is important if my niece is to inherit the throne."

He was insinuating something. He knew that, and I knew that. He had met Laenor many times before. It wasn't out of the question that he'd suspect the nature of his niece's relationship.

The problem was, what was he aiming for here? If he was truly convinced Laenor wasn't the father of Rhaenyra's child, then there was no stopping him from telling the king. That he hadn't done so meant he didn't concern himself with such a matter.

Unless he was planning for me to incriminate myself before reporting it to the king. In that case, I should deny everything.

"That's true. We, that is, the rest of his family, do encourage him to spend more time with his wife, but Laenor much prefers Driftmark over Dragonstone. At least with a dragon, the journey would take at most a few hours between the two."

"One wonders why he seemingly loathes my niece so. Do you believe he thought Rhaenyra's inadequate somehow?"

"I don't think so. My brother has nothing untoward to say about the realm's delight. The only reason I can guess is that he has his duties in Driftmark as our father's heir."

"Is that so?"

"Just so." I said, scrunching my eyebrows in fake concern. "Perhaps I should visit Driftmark and offer my congratulations in person. It's been more than half a year since my last visit." I've heard good news from my business there. My whiskey trade was doing well under Rodney's supervision and Joffrey's management. Laenor was not japing when he claimed Joffrey was good with numbers.

But there was another reason I wanted to leave soon. Rhaenyra's child. Mine, though it was the truth the realm should never know. For a strange reason, I really wanted to see the child myself.

"Speaking of Driftmark, there's another matter I wish to speak of. About your sister, in fact."

I stilled for a moment. "Oh? What matters about my sister?"

Prince Daemon smiled in that usual way of his. "Her betrothed is a shite. Your parents are obviously not planning to go through with the marriage. Why are they meandering? She's of a marriageable age, and her hand is widely sought after."

I drummed my fingers in thought. Was this his plan—to offer his silence on my dalliances in exchange for my sister's hand? Or did I read too much into it?

"You want me to speak in favor of a match between you and Laena." I concluded. It wasn't difficult.

"Correct." He tilted his head. "With the passing of my wife, I recently found myself a widower and no one to continue my legacy. A man finds himself concerned. Among the eligible ladies in the realm, I found your sister to be a cut well above the rest." He shook his head again. "If you have trouble with her betrothed, I can take the burden into my own hands."

By killing him, most likely. Another reminder of why he was called the rogue prince by the entire realm. Still, my concern was hardly on my sister's betrothed.

"Will you treat her like Lady Rhea?"

That was something that I couldn't bargain on. Daemon had a lot to offer for a marriage between our houses, but above all, I wanted my sister to be happy. Considering the mess that was Laenor's marriage, surely that alone was understandable.

Daemon eyed me carefully with those sharp eyes of his. Perhaps evaluating whether the undercurrent of threat in my question was real or not. I answered his gaze with my own. This was not something I'd budged on.

He exhaled.

"I will treat her fairly." His tone was solemn as he finally said it. "You have my word on that. Rhea was a match decided by my grandmother. But Laena is different."

He sounded sincere, though that alone was hardly enough. I misliked the match, but I knew full well that who Laena married was hardly my sole decision.

"Will the king agree to the match? With my brother already wedded to Rhaenyra, he might be reluctant to marry another of his house to us. Other houses might see it as us being favored too highly."

Daemon thought it over, and I realized the king hadn't given him a leave. He didn't even think of such a matter before he brought the issue up with me.

"I haven't consulted Viserys yet, though I wouldn't be concerned. I'm sure I can convince him eventually. Perhaps as a way to solidify my control in the Stepstones and a way to tie the dragons further. I know my brother well."

The sheer number of exiles he received made me doubt that, but I held my tongue.

I dabbed my mouth with a napkin. "I'll talk with Laena later in Driftmark. Laena is a kind woman, but she can be willful. If she refuses to marry you, then I doubt there's anything I or my parents can say to change her mind."

Daemon smirked. "I expect no less fierceness from a dragon rider. I never understood the appeal of meek doe so many men prefer anyhow."

The dinner was a splendid affair. It was not quite a feast, but it was close enough not to matter. A honey-glazed lamb was the dish served as the main centerpiece, but the full bounty of Driftmark was on the table. Looking around, one could see the Velaryons family in full—at least the main line—were in attendance for the first time in over six months.

"I must say I missed this." I said with a platter of lamb on hand. "My humble island can't rival such a luxury yet."

Father took a slice of fried cod on a bed of spicy sauce. "The island is around the same size as Driftmark, and given your usual efficacy, it will start to prosper soon enough. Perhaps you'll even surpass my own wealth."

I sighed. "Not very soon, unfortunately. With the Triarchy breathing down our necks, we're forced to prioritize defense over trade or industry." I sighed. "Our marketplace is barely worth the name, and the docks are abysmal."

"Anything that your family may assist with?" Mother asked, a cup of Arbor red on hand. "You shouldn't hesitate to ask for help from family. If it's just a matter of coins, we'll gladly lend a hand."

"I'm not opposed to more coins. I still have my share from the war, but everything is just too damn costly nowadays."

"That's a lesson in life, son. Nothing is free, and everything is always too expensive." Father said as he chuckled at his own joke. "You shouldn't worry so much. Your plan for the island is good. Perhaps you don't even need the island. Whiskey—that was what you called that new liquor you invented? The few last batches sold very well. You'll grow wealthy enough to buy everything you need if you keep this up.

I shrugged. "I'm not sure if I can be called the inventor. I merely read about distilled grain drinks somewhere and thought to replicate them."

Laena shook her head. "I doubt whatever drink you read about is the same as the one you create. That's good enough to be considered an invention, dear Brother."

I eyed her incredulously. "You said my drink tasted like piss."

She snorted. "Not in such uncouth words. No offense, but I just prefer grapes over grains."

"In that case you shouldn't fret, dear sister. I am already making strides in distilling wines as well." The men had finally learned how to make the brandy after some trial and error. "It's supposed to be a way to transport more wines easily, but you can drink it normally, though in smaller quantities than regular wine. It's stronger than even strongwine. Ser Joffrey has been a great help."

"I've heard of it." Father chimed in again. "The process you use is similar to Tyroshi brandy. They won't like it. For all their preaching of the virtue of trade, they had no qualms about assassinating any competitors who encroach on what they see as theirs."

"Mine is made from grapes, not pears. Besides, Tyrosh made no attempt to hide how much they hate me. A drink won't change that."

It was a strange coincidence that a variation of brandy actually existed in Tyrosh. I doubted anything would come from it, however. Tyrosh couldn't do anything to Driftmark as they were now.

"I had talked with Ser Joffrey about the progress of my ventures." I continued. "Laenor was a great help in managing all of this as well, along with cousin Vaemond."

Laenor and Joffrey had gone well beyond my expectations. They set up several facilities in Driftmark, including Hull and Spicetown, just to produce my drinks. Vaemond's help was instrumental, as he was the appointed castellan of Driftmark Castle which overlooked Hull. It helped smooth over the process greatly.

It wasn't difficult to see what Vaemond's intended. A castellan was a prestigious position but not heritable. With two sons of his own, it was no surprise that he saw the industry as a possible inheritance for his sons.

Not like I was opposed to it. I would greatly prefer if most of the shareholders were the Velaryons family. I just hoped I could fulfill his expectations and lead the enterprise to success.

I gestured to Laenor. "You said we have a good trade in the Crownsland?"

Laenor bobbed his head. "Indeed, we found plenty of interested customers in King's Landing and Duskendale. Our merchants said they made a tidy profit in both cities." He swilled his cup. "The reception is also good. We already received orders for more liquor soon."

He looked up to me. "Speaking of, Joffrey asked if we should sell to Gulltown as well. Should we do it?"

I considered it. "For now? It isn't worth the effort. I'm still building a stockpile. We only sell the minimum amount of batch to recoup some production costs and introduce our product to the realm. The stockpile I build will be aged for a few more years before being sold as a proper liquor."

"How long will this take?" Mother interjected. "If you take too long, then you might find interest in your products plummeting."

"Three years sound good." A number I picked at complete random. It just felt right—not too long and not too short. "Of course we'll still sell unaged whiskey in the meantime, though I'm hoping we can start selling proper whiskey soon afterward."

Laenor spoke again. "And if an independent merchant bought and sold your whiskey somewhere else out of their individual initiatives?"

"Then we do nothing. If they're not a part of our trading fleet, then there's nothing we can do to restrict where they trade or not. As long as they don't take it from our stockpile, I see no reason why we should bother." I said. That way, they couldn't blame us if no one was interested in buying it in Gulltown, for example. And if they found a market there, well, I could hardly refuse free advertisement, now could I?

We continued our talks as we met. Father shared tales of his time on King's Landing, as corroborated by Mother. Laena laughed and sang as I and Laenor shouted encouragement at her. It was a pity I left my lute in my room, as it was perfect for the occasion.

Between our meals, I felt Laenor's elbow on my arm, and he looked meaningfully at the door.

I smiled. This felt nostalgic.

Once the diner was done and the table cleared, Laenor excused himself to his room, with me following shortly after until we reached his door.

I found Laenor sitting on his chair, and he beckoned me to do the same. On the table was a flagon of wine, though it was unlikely either of us would be in the mood for wine shortly after dinner.

"No remarks about the miniature painting? I painted it myself. Mayhaps not quite the work of a master, but I took pride in it nonetheless."

The miniature was a large one and covered nearly half of one wall. I couldn't tell the exact subject of the painting, except that it depicted a sea voyage of some kind.

"A fine work. It's obviously a product of many days of labour." I said.

Laenor burst out laughing. "Oh, who are you trying to convince? You never have a great interest in paintings."

I laughed at that too. "You're the artist between us two. I'm content to merely buy someone else's work. Preferably a master."

We savoured the moment. Just two Velaryon boys talking about their interests. A reminder of simpler times.

"Is your relationship with Rhae good?" I asked.

Laenor nodded his head vigorously. "It was rocky at first, but we agreed with each other eventually."

"Then why are you still here? You should be in Dragonstone, accompanying your wife."

"I know. I'll visit there soon enough. However, I was waiting for you. Since it was your-"

"Don't," I hissed. "You never know who may hear, even in the safety of our walls."

"-First nephew, I thought it was right for you to see the child as well." Laenor continued smoothly. "I almost fly to Deathmaw just to take you with me. Fortunately, you're already here yourself."

"Not Deathmaw. I called it South Haven now, remember?"

"That's a much better name." Laenor said, then he added, "Forgive my lapse in judgment." He whispered. "The time has been trying."

"For you and me both, Brother."

We sat in silence. Perhaps I was overreacting, but I thought it'd be better if we began getting used to pretending the babe was Laenor's instead of mine, lest we accidentally blabber it someplace we regret.

"I intend to visit her the day after tomorrow. She should be giving birth within the week afterward. Laena has already agreed to accompany me. Will you as well?"

"Gladly."

I paced about in anxiety.

It had been only four days since we arrived in Dragonstone before Rhaenyra went into labour. Laena accompanied her in the birthing bed to offer her support, while two midwives and the maester would handle the birthing.

Laenor and I waited in silence outside the door, or at least as silent as I could, pacing around. Curses and screams were audible from the room every so often. The sun was already far in the west, and the sky was beginning to turn a canvas of dark purple and blue.

"Is all that screaming normal?" Laenor asked, a tinge of concern in his voice.

"I heard that childbirth is always rough on mothers. Especially when it's the first time." I chewed my lips. Why the hell am I so fretful? I'm not the one giving birth.

It should be fine. The maester was skilled; I saw he had two silver chains on his neck. The midwives were old and experienced, and they likely had overseen dozens of such births.

Rhaenyra was healthy as well. I remembered how she greeted us on our arrival and the three days where she hosted us siblings. Despite some difficulties caused by the size of her stomach, she seemed strong and spirited.

Everything would be fine.

We waited for a few more hours, to the point that even I had to stop pacing out of weariness eventually. A servant offered us refreshment and food, though I rebuked her. As if anyone could eat in this circumstance.

I might've rebuked her a bit too harshly.

Why the hell am I panicking?

I'd lost all count of time at one point. I simply stood outside the room with arms crossed and feet tapping as the shouts and screams from inside the room blended into one vague cacophony until finally, finally, the noise ceased and was replaced with crying.

I felt my heart almost leap from my chest when one of the midwives exited the room.

"The baby is born, m'lord. He's a healthy boy."

I almost barged into the room before my better sense caught up with me. I glanced at Laenor, who thankfully remembered his part.

"I will see him." He managed to say in his lordly voice.

The midwife bowed and turned back, with Laenor and me on her heels.

Inside were several people. There were four women and one man in a grey robe, and on the bed was the babe, carried by his mother.

The babe looked like a mess. A fat, bloody clump the length of one's forearm. His wails were endless, and they were louder than I could imagine.

I saw the maester produce a small, thin knife from one of his pouches. I wondered what he was planning until he grabbed the still-connected placenta and cut it off in one quick cut.

Perhaps I should've waited until they cleaned the baby slightly. I thought. I seem to be oddly impatient today.

Rhaenyra's smile was weary, but there was a touch of triumph in there. The pride of a mother. She was smiling tenderly as she poked the baby over and over and laughed before looking up at our approach.

"Husband." Rhaenyra managed to say in a tired voice, not looking at either of us in particular. "I present to you our firstborn son."

I elbowed Laenor in case he forgot who Rhaenyra's husband was. He gingerly stepped forward and carefully took the baby into his arms.

"A beautiful son." Laenor choked out. "You've done well, both of you."

"Do you have a name for him?" Rhenyra asked.

My brother was silent for a short moment as he looked into the babe's eyes. "Aenar. Aenar Velaryon and the future Aenar Targaryen. That is a fine name for our son."

Rhaenyra turned her gaze at me. I gave her a small nod.

The name of the Targaryen lord who heeded his daughter's dream and thus saved his house. A fine name for the first son.

"A beautiful baby boy. His eyes are the same shade as Laenor, though his nose is more like Rhaenyra's." Laena said as she moved beside me.

No, his nose is mine. The thought came unbidden. I squashed it.

"Indeed." I croaked out; my throat felt parched. "A beautiful boy."

We spent a few moments inside, doing nothing but staring and making noises at the babe, until the maester politely reminded us of how much the ordeal had sorely taxed Rhaenyra.

We left Rhaenyra to her rest soon after, almost sheepishly.

"That was quite something." Laena said as we passed through the hallway. "It's a pity you aren't allowed inside. Both of you had seen war before, but I had no doubt the sight could still make you lightheaded."

"I can only imagine. We spent hours outside hearing nothing but screams, and the aftermath..." Laenor trailed out. "I don't think there's anything that can prepare you for the sight."

"Indeed." My thoughts went back to the baby. My son, even if the world would not let me recognize him as such, "Just waiting outside wears me out quickly. I don't think I was ever this anxious, even when I was in the Stepstones."

Laenor glanced at me. "I think all your pacings wear you out the most, Brother." He tilted his head back slightly. "We are all tired, I think, even if none of us were quite as tired as my wife. Perhaps we should retire to our rooms."

"Agreed." I answered him. "We still have a few hours until supper. I'll meet with you later."

My mind was a mess, and I felt odd. I needed time to cool my head and think about everything again.

However, as I made my way to my room, I found Laena trailing behind me.

I turned my head. "Sister? Is there a reason why you follow me up here? Your room is below."

"Follow me, Corwyn." She said in a tone that broker no argument and walked down.

I sighed and followed my sister down the stairs and outside of the castle. The night had truly taken hold of the sky, and the black castle looked like a faceless giant from certain angles.

We wandered Dragonstone looking for nothing in particular. Together, brother and sister took in the sights of the oldest keep held by the Targaryens, of numerous stone dragons adorning the walls and the towers, until we reached a small, neglected courtyard with a few wooden gazebos and took a seat in one.

I tapped my fingers in annoyance. "Is there a reason why you brought me so far outside at this time, or did you just want me to accompany you as you see Dragonstone at night?"

Laena's face was unreadable—a mix of emotions that I couldn't even begin to guess. Eventually her mind was set on something, and she leaned in close. "I know." She said with her eyes staring directly into mine.

I met her stare directly. "Know what?"

"You know what I'm talking about. Gods, we're siblings, Corwyn. I know you better than you know ourselves."

Gods, I hope not. "Did Laenor tell you?"

"No, but I spent my time with him the most. I was also there when Rhaenyra was in Driftmark." She looked disappointed. "I'm still offended that you both try to keep it a secret from me. I'm still your oldest sister. Do you think I wouldn't know?"

"Sorry." I said, my voice barely above whispers, I noticed. "We just don't want to make anyone else complicit in this." Laenor and I agreed to keep it a secret from the rest of the family. Even if they suspected, as long as they didn't know, then it wouldn't be their burden. "But since you already know, I might as well ask what you thought of everything."

"It has troubled both of you greatly." She said. "I saw no problem with it, and I'll support you as your sister. However, if I to help you, then I need to understand. What will you do going forward?"

"I don't know. I just didn't expect any of this, truly. I simply reacted to whatever it was someone else's doing." I sighed. My life had taken a strange turn for a few years, and I reacted by doing things that I barely understood myself. "For now, I just want the babe to grow strong and healthy."

It was better for me to do things slowly, lest I find myself lost in my choices. Two lives, and I still had no better answer than that.

Laena took several seconds to think before answering. "You shouldn't worry about that. I spent hours holding Rhaenyra's hand, if you can imagine. I was there as she raged and cursed. I thought for a moment that she hated her child for making her suffer through such an ordeal. Yet when the babe was finally born, she looked at him with the greatest love I've ever seen in someone's eyes."

She sighed. "I wonder if I can feel such a beautiful thing as well. Of motherhood, that is."

I wasn't sure if I shared my sister's opinion. It looked messy and bloody painful to me. Then again, there were men who were eager for battles, so it wasn't out of the realm of imagination for there to be a woman who was eager to give birth. It was said that childbirth was a woman's battlefield, after all.

It was just as well. I had something else to say. "I had talked with Prince Daemon. He was interested in marrying you." Best not to beat around the bush. I'd rather my sister didn't marry him, but I had no interest in dictating her life either. "I haven't talked with our parents yet, since I want to hear your opinion first."

Laena took a long breath in response. I wondered if she enjoyed the smell of brimstone.

"I'm already betrothed." She finally said, though her tone was unconvinced.

"You know your betrothal won't go anywhere. A Sealord's son though he may be, he had nothing to offer to the match."

I've met my sister's betrothed a few times before, and the result was disappointing. The man was a foppish wastrel; I knew that for a long time. However, he also didn't care about Laena herself and cared more about using our wealth for his own benefit. If I were Father, I'd just make up a reason why he was an inadequate match and be done with it.

Laena's eyes were fixed on the distant Dragonmont where dragons laired. "I've exchanged some letters with Prince Daemon, you know that? Not a lot, and none of the letters contain anything untoward either. Want to hear my opinion of the man?"

I shrugged. "Of course."

"He wasn't so bad. I think he is a fierce and courageous man, and he is capable of more tenderness than most people give him credit for. I like his passion too. I prefer my man with a certain fire in him." Laena said in a nervous tone.

I chortled. "You spoke like a smitten maid of two-and-ten. Have you taken leave of your senses? Remember how he treated his previous wife." I shook my head. "Think it over, Sister."

Laena's face turned disappointed. I guess she didn't approve of Daemon's way of treating his wife either, though she persisted.

"How he treated Lady Rhea was regrettable, but we know not all marriages are cordial. Should I marry Vyrelos, do you think our relationship would be any different?"

It seemed her mind was set. My sister was usually ambivalent about the prospect of marriage, seeing it as merely her inevitable duty. Something changed. Either her feelings for Daemon were deeper than she revealed to me, or it was something else.

I combed my hair with my hand. "If you're not opposed to this, then I wouldn't either. However, if he chose to dishonour you, I might take matters into my own hands. Even if he is my liege lord."

Her hands came up as she wrung them on the railings. "Oh, Brother. You have no need to worry so much. I can handle him. I'm not a kitten in need of protection. Should I misread him and he ever mistreat me, I'll feed him to Vhagar."

I laughed. "Sometimes I forget you have the ornery old dragon with you. Perhaps I have no cause for worry then." I rose from my seat. "I'll tell our parents on the way home. No need to worry."

Though I would still watch Daemon carefully in that case.

"Corwyn." Laenar called out to me. "If you allow me a request?"

"What request?"

"Please treat Vyrelos gently. For all his fault, he hadn't done anything worthy of harm."

I sighed. "No need to worry, sister. I have no reason to cause him harm either." Daemon might prefer to simply kill the man, but I was not Daemon. Tricking him to drink my brandy until he passed out so I could find him abed with three prostitutes was a good enough way to shame him and gave us reason to break the betrothal. I wonder why Mother hadn't tried such a method before.

Author Notes: Here's the Stepstones distribution

Major Islands:

Bloodstone - Prince Daemon Targaryen

Deathmaw (renamed South Haven) - Corwyn Velaryon

The Whorl (renamed Falcon's Rest) - Arnold Arryn

Rotplank (renamed Red Island) - Tyland Lannister

Greenford - Garth Tyrell (A cousin of Matthos Tyrell)

Beaverstone - Bennard Stark

Deep Scar (renamed Mistwood) - Cassandra Baratheon (held by a regency)

Minor Islands:

Grey Gallows - Veron Greyjoy (held by a regency)

Bonepass (renamed Mulberry Pass) Edric Redwyne

Veiled Rock - Gonzo Tully, son of Grover

Longtusk - Manfryd Mooton

Muddy Moor (renamed Brave Isle) - Jon Grafton

High Gaze - Marq Reyne

The Haunt - Willas Manderly

Some of the characters above are OCs. A few of them might or might not be important later. Also, some of the non-OCs like Arnold and Bennard have some influence in canon by themselves, and Tyland is Tyland.

For those who asked about the relationship between Corwyn and Rhaenyra, then yes, it was shallow. Corwyn never actually thought to start a relationship with her before since he saw her as the cousin who was raised together and Rhaenyra's attraction to Corwyn is mostly a teenage lust fueled by Corwyn fulfilling her jock fetish (with a dash of emo flavor) and him being the closest, good-looking male her age she saw on regular basis. Their ties are shallow as hell. The potential is there, however. Depending on how the story progresses their relationship can turn out to be more solid and they become a power couple or collapse gloriously.

As usual, reviews are always welcome.