105 AC
King's Landing
There was something about Dragons that seemed to transcend even death, Aemon thought, as he felt the gaze of long dead dragons.
Standing within the vast, cavernous walls of the Red Keep's throne room, one couldn't help but feel insignificant.
Everything here, from the Iron Throne fashioned from a thousand enemy swords, to the gigantic Dragon skulls looming over one and all - were a silent testament to the Targaryen's power.
But of all the regal finery populating the throne room, the Dragon skulls were undoubtedly the most impressive.
They were proof of a strength, beyond mortal men.
A strength, that was the exclusive dominion of House Targaryen.
Even though, with most of the Targaryen Dragons alive, there were only three dragon skulls in the throne room. They were still, extremely fearsome.
The largest of them - Balerion's gigantic skull, was mounted on the wall behind the Iron Throne.
Then there was Meraxes' skull, recovered from Dorne after the first Dornish war, mounted on the eastern wall, to the right of the Iron Throne. While, Quicksilver's much smaller skull rested on the opposite wall.
Amidst all this finery, in the centre of Targaryen power, King Viserys held court today.
For today was a special occasion.
On the King's invitation, the Lord Lyonel Strong of Harrenhal, had come to the capital to serve as the Master of Laws.
To witness this scene, the entire court had assembled.
Today, every noble worth their salt - from the lowest landed knight to the greatest High Lord - had crowded into the Red Keep's Great Hall.
This had made it difficult for Aemon to secure a good enough vantage point, for observing today's proceedings.
But finally, he had somehow managed to squeeze into one of the galleries, overlooking the Iron Throne.
Aemon could see the King seated upon the Throne, with Lord Commander Westerling and the newly minted Kingsguard Ser Criston Cole, standing guard at its foot.
He could also see, the Small Council members, seated around a table before the throne.
They were the only ones allowed to sit, other than the King himself.
Everybody else, irrespective of their station had to either stand, or remain kneeling.
Aemon also saw his father, Prince Daemon.
Although, he was no longer part of the Small Council, Daemon stood near the front.
Wearing a golden cloak, and dressed in a regal surcoat emblazoned with the three headed dragon of House Targaryen, he appeared to be brazenly flaunting, his success as the Commander of the City Watch.
It was then that the sound of trumpets blaring, intruded on Aemon's thoughts, as the Great bronze doors leading into the Great Hall opened, and in walked, House Strong.
Lord Lyonel Strong seemed to be a man in his forties, burly and balding, he had the appearance of a seasoned warrior.
He had come with his two daughters - Alys and Melara Strong, ten and twelve namedays old respectively - and his two sons, Ser Harwin Strong and Larys, his younger brother.
As they entered the Great Hall, the King's Hand Ser Otto, stood up from his seat at the head of the Small Council table.
"His Grace, King Viserys welcomes you to the capital Lord Strong, and also, he expresses his gratitude to you, for accepting a seat on his Small Council." He said.
"His Grace, honours me with such kind words. But there is no need for gratitude, it is my duty after all, to serve the Realm. And this duty, I shall gladly perform." Lord Strong stated.
"Lyonel, I heard that you have brought your sons with you to court?" Viserys asked.
"Yes, my King. My sons, and my daughters."
"Is that so. Then we must find some positions for them too." Viserys declared.
"Daemon, why don't you give Ser Harwin a position in the City Watch? I hear he's quite the fine, young knight." Viserys declared.
"I am sure, that I can find him something suitable, brother." Daemon replied, with a smirk.
"That is done then. As for your other children, your daughters can serve as hamdmaids to Rhaenyra, and I'm sure my capable Hand can find something for your younger son."
"That is, of course, if you don't have any objections, Lord Lyonel?" Viserys said.
"Perish the thought, my King. In fact, it would please me greatly, if such were to happen." Lord Strong said respectfully.
"Very well then, Ser Otto will see to the details. As for you my Lord, we have organized a Feast in your honour. Let us continue there, shall we." Viserys said, as he walked out of the throne room, with Lord Lyonel.
And with the King having adjourned the Court, all the nobles started to trickle out of the Great Hall, one by one.
Aemon, also left with them. His work here was done. He had seen, all he needed to see.
------------------
"I heard from Rowan, that you have some reports to share?"
"Yes Lord Aemon, it is about the business." Jahanara answered.
Jahanara was originally from the Isle of Naath, before she had been captured by slavers. They had sold her in Lys. Where in one of the Lysene pleasure houses, she had been trained as a high class courtesan. Besides sexual arts, she had been trained in six languages, dance, song, and even numbers. Then, at only sixteen namedays, the Lysene had sent her and six other girls, as a gift to the Prince of Pentos.
But fate was fickle. And, it was her fate, and a summer storm, that had instead blown her ship to Westerosi shores - where slavery was abhorred.
There some Westerosi sailors, had freed her.
But even being free wasn't enough. She was in a new land, and that too with no money. So not wishing to starve, Jahanara had chosen to do what she knew best.
She became a high class prostitute in one of King's Landing's brothels.
It was there, that Rowan had found her.
Wishing to get involved in the flesh trade, Aemon had sent Rowan to the various brothels in King's Landing, to research their workings, and maybe even find a girl or two, that could prove useful.
He had found, Jahanara.
With her exotic dusky complexion and eyes like molten gold, she had quickly became the favorite of many patrons.
And as Rowan had told Aemon, there was much more to her, than just her beauty.
It was from him that Aemon learned, that the reason behind her popularity was that, besides being pretty to look at, she was also very clever and capable.
So on his recommendation, Aemon had met with her, asking her to join his business.
And since, in spite of her ability, the brothel she worked at, refused to give her any say in its running, or even involve her in the business itself.
She agreed to work for him. For a price, that is.
Ultimately, after a lot of haggling, they had come to an arrangement.
She would receive a quarter of the profits for operating the brothel, with the rest three-quarters, going to Aemon. And she would send him this money once, every moon's turn.
More than a year had passed since then, and Jahanara had settled into her role, running the brothel quiet ably, Aemon reminisced.
"Just 'Aemon' is fine." He said to her. "Go on then, continue."
"It is the Gold Cloaks, sire. Since, Prince Daemon took over the City Watch, they have grown bold."
Aemon frowned in consternation.
"I thought, that they had brought order to the Street of Silk, by punishing thieves and rapists."
"That they have, milord. But now they demand wine and women as their due, and pay no coin for it."
Aemon's face hardened, as he said.
"Yes I have heard some similar rumors from Rowan. But I'm afraid, there's nothing we can do in this matter. Give them what they want, as long as it is within reason. As for the girls, pay them from our coffers. We promised them a better life when we took them in. I will not break my word, by making them penniless."
As Jahanara nodded in acceptance, Rowan interjected.
"None of this would happen, if you just told your father, that you own this place. There's no Gold Cloak who would dare cause trouble here, then."
Aemon glared at Rowan, as he said.
"I have told you many times before. I can't have my father knowing about my dealings."
"And why is that?" He growled.
"It's quite simple. Don't you think it unnatural for an eight year old kid, to own a fucking brothel?"
"Moreover, my father learning of it would only draw unwanted attention. And on top of that, if the court were to find out somehow, there would be rumors naming me a deviant before the day's over, or worse a demon child."
"You do know, that the Faith makes a profession out of punishing such, so called demonspawn. If they were to cause trouble, me being Prince Daemon's bastard would at most be a paper shield. I don't have a deathwish, Rowan." Aemon replied.
"And that's not all, as I have told you'll countless times before, my goal isn't just creating a profitable business. It's also to build a web of information - of whispered secrets and lies, and covert betrayals.
And none of that is possible, if my enemies avoid this place, because they know it belongs to me. I want them guzzling down rich vintages and caressing plump tits, as they spill out their darkest secrets."
Aemon said, as he took a sip from his goblet.
The long tirade had made him parched.
"You should both understand this well. If it was only a business I wanted, then I would have spent my gold on ships, not whores. I even made sure, that only the two of you knew, that I own this place." Aemon said.
"You certainly succeeded, there. Everyone seems to believe, that one of the wealthy High Lords owns this
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
establishment." Rowan snorted.
"Milord, your words reminded me. I have some other important information to report to you, as well." Jahanara said.
"What is it? And, why didn't you have Rowan deliver it, to me? Are you having problems using the cipher, again?" He asked curiously.
"No milord, I can use the cipher fine now. In fact, two of the girls - Mira and Alina - have also learned it's use." She replied.
"It is something else milord, and I didn't send it through Rowan because, I myself learned of it less than an hour ago. The Captain of Lord Lyonel's guard, one Ser Osmyn, was bedding the new Lysene girl Celia, when he let spill that, the Lord's eldest son, Ser Harwin has been appointed as a Captain in the Gold Cloaks. Celia also said that, Ser Osmyn was talking about the Lord's younger son, Larys - a cripple of some sort - who joined the King's Confessors." Jahanara informed him.
Aemon pondered on her words.
He had already known of Harwin's appointment, Larys' however, was something he had not been aware of.
His 'Book' did inform him quiet a lot about Ser Harwin after all.
But Larys was still pretty much a mystery. A mystery, that needed looking into Aemon thought.
"Good work, Jahanara. This is useful information. Give Celia a gold dragon as reward." Aemon said.
"And as for the Strongs, I want them watched. Rowan have some of their servants bribed. Jahanara inform me of anything else you learn about them. And as a final measure, Rowan have some of our people, listening to them, at all times. Use some of the Red Keep's hidden passageways, if need be." He commanded.
"I hope they are less slippery than the Hightowers. A full year we've been watching them, with nothing to show for it. Even their servants are not easily bought." Rowan grumbled.
"Otto Hightower is too smart to allow such lapses. He keeps a tight leash on his household, but don't worry sooner or later they'll slip up." Aemon reassured him.
"Jahanara, there's another thing we have to discuss. It's about someone going by the moniker, 'White Worm'. Rowan told me that they took over the 'Secret Garden', your old brothel as far as I can recall. Do you know anything about this musterious person?" Aemon asked.
"Ha! 'White Worm', what a ridiculous name. But then, she did always love such theatrics. But you are correct in assuming that I know her. Her real name is Mysaria, a Lysene dancer girl who used to work at 'Secret Garden'. It was your father, Prince Daemon, who helped her take control of the brothel, I believe. He also seems to be quite smitten with her." Jahanara sneered.
"It's none of my business, what the Prince does, or so i would usually say, but if his actions directly affect my business then I will intervene." He replied.
Aemon knew that there was a reason for Daemon's increasingly erratic behavior.
Ever since, Viserys had declared Aemma was with child, Daemon had been troubled.
Daemon knew, that if Aemma birthed a boy, then he would no longer have any claim to the Iron Throne.
But it was not power that drove him, or rather not just power.
Aemon had felt, that his father had a deep seated insecurity.
He wished to be important, needed to be respected and enjoyed being feared.
He revelled in his identity, of 'The Rogue Prince' - a man loved and feared by all.
Daemon had once been just one of many Targaryen princes, during Jaeherys' reign.
He hadn't been anyone of note back then, in spite of his valour and skill in arms, it being a time of peace, he had been relegated to the back pages of history - insignificant.
Since, then what Daemon feared more than anything was returning to those days, as an insignificant princeling, the like of which, there were a dime a dozen.
And to prevent that from happening, Aemon knew, that his father would go to great lengths.
"For now just keep an eye on her. Even if she is capable, and has Prince Daemon's support, nobody likes a new face challenging the status quo here. But still, if she continues to cause trouble for us, then she will learn that in the 'Street of Silk', silken touches can often come laced with poison." Aemon said.
"Now that's all done with, let's leave Aemon, it will be evening soon. And you did make plans, to have tea with the Princess." Rowan reminded him.
So Aemon had gotten up to leave, when Jahanara suddenly stopped him.
"Milord, one last thing before you leave. I was thinking about the information network that you talked about developing, earlier. And I think, I have a feasible idea regarding it." She said.
"Tell me about it, then." Aemon replied, sitting down again.
"I propose, that we employ the street children, for creating this information network. King's Landing is full of orphan boys and street urchins, struggling to survive. These children, run errands for a few pennies or beg, or even steal, just so they won't starve to death. And living like this, they have learned to be sneaky and observant. We can make them spy for us, and their large numbers would allow us to extend our eyes to every corner of the city. And we don't even need to pay them anything, only let them know that we will reward them for any useful information they might bring. I believe that, this will allow us to expand out network quickly, and at minimal cost." She said.
Aemon was impressed with her idea, but he knew that it still had some loopholes, that needed fixing.
"It's indeed a brilliant idea, and I would like, you to pursue it, of course. In fact feel free to charge me, for any costs incurred. But remember, that any information you get from these children must be double-checked and verified, otherwise we may fall into a trap. Since they do not work for us, anybody could ask them to give us false information, just for a few pieces of silver." Aemon said to her.
"In spite of that, I consider the risk well worth taking, so we will do it. Jahanara, you will be responsible for handling these kids. You will also verify any information they might bring in. For now this will have to do. When we have more money and manpower I would like to organise them in a more cohesive fashion." Aemon decided.
"Yes milord, I'll make sure that everything is done to your satisfaction." Jahanara, bowed.
Having finished with their business, he and Rowan got up to leave.
Aemon had a reason for setting up his brothel, 'The Velvet Pearl ' in this particular location.
Even though it cost him more than some other locations, he knew it was well worth it.
For this brothel, had a secret tunnel running under it.
A previous Hand of the King, Lord Daemon Velaryon had it dug up, so that he could enjoy his whores without staining his honour.
It came in handy now, for Aemon couldn't be seen visiting a brothel at his age. This was the only way for him to check up on his business, discreetly.
Aemon had been very cautious, not even the girls working in his brothel, knew of him.
And to ensure that things remained that way, they always met in the basement.
He had the builders connect the basement to the secret tunnel.
The basement itself could only be accessed through a hidden trapdoor, in Jahanara's private quarters. On top of that, only Jahanara had the only keys to open it.
As for the hidden basement, it had only two exits - one was a flight of stairs leading up to the trapdoor in Jahanara's rooms. And the other was a locked door leading into the secret tunnel.
Rowan was only one who could open it. Even Jahanara, didn't have the keys to that door.
It was through this door, that they left.
The tunnel itself slanted upwards, running under the Hill of Rhaenys for about three blocks, before ending in a trapdoor, which opened up into a stable.
As Aemon walked down the tunnel, accompanied by the light of Rowan's torch, his mind began to wander.
He reminisced of all the things that had happened this past year.
Although, court itself had been quiet, it had turned out to be an eventful year for him. After Rowan had joined him, he finally had a capable right-hand man.
Now at long last, he could put some of his ideas in motion.
Since, Aegon's day, the Crown had been issuing funds to the members of the royal family. These royal purses were meant for the maintenance of those of Targaryen blood. And even though Aemon was a royal bastard, ever since the day he was born he had been issued a Royal purse of his own.
In spite of it being significantly lesser than that of a true blooded royal, Aemon still received around two thousand gold dragons a year, from the Crown.
Saving most of it, Aemon had managed to raise around twelve thousand gold dragons. Adding to that, he had raised another, five thousand gold dragons by selling many of his possessions. He had sold almost every gift he had ever received, that didn't hold a sentimental value.
Then there were the three thousand gold dragons, he had won betting, at the Tourney of Maidenpool.
But even then, he didn't have enough capital to start his business.
So he had gone to his father, Prince Daemon to ask for a loan. Daemon was normally very open-handed, but five thousand gold dragons was not a small sum even for him. So Aemon had expected some difficulty in convincing him.
But Daemon had recently come into a lot of money. The Crown had given him a hundred thousand gold dragons to refurbish the City Watch. And since, Aemon had promised to pay him back within a year, Daemon had lent him the money.
So it was using these twenty five thousand gold dragons, that Aemon had bought three businesses in King's Landing.
A brothel on the Street of Silk that he named, 'The Velvet Pearl ' - A high-class establishment that catered to an exclusive clientele. Only the wealthiest of merchants and members of the upper nobility, could afford it's exorbitant rates.
The patrons were served food and drinks in the common area, while being entertained by minstrels and singers, and lithe dancer girls. One could pick any one of these dancers to spend the night with. And to facilitate that, there were several rooms branching out from the common room, where customers could spend the night.
Then, for those with more expensive tastes, there were private rooms on the second floor. These rooms were luxuriously decorated and tastefully furnished. And it was in these rooms, that wealthy patrons could enjoy the companionship of the most select girls that the brothel had to offer.
'The Velvet Pearl' had girls from all over Westeros, and beyond. They had girls from the Free Cities - Lys, Tyrosh, Volantis, and even girls from the far off lands of the Summer Islands or the Jade City of Qarth.
It was one of the top three brothels on the Street of Silk, alongside 'The Satin House' and 'Secret Garden'.
And to achieve such renown, Aemon had prioritized quality over quantity, spending over ten thousand gold dragons on the brothel itself.
Aemon had also bought and refurbished the inn on Eel Alley, renaming it to 'The Black Swan'.
It served as both an inn, and a tavern serving food and drinks to guests. The inn had both, simple rooms available at affordable prices, and luxurious suites for those with the coin to pay for it.
In spite of King's Landing being one of the greatest cities in Westeros, it had very few proper inns. In fact, Aemon's inn was one of only two large inns in the city.
The other one was 'The Golden Eagle'. They were their main competitor.
Built on the River Row, near the harbor, it had numerous sailors, merchants, and ship captains paying for room and board. This ended up drawing business away from 'The Black Swan'.
'The Black Swan' had set Aemon back, another eight thousand gold dragons.
Then there was the huge gambling house, that Aemon had set up on the Street of Silver called, 'The Gilded Hand'.
Aemon knew that if there was anything nobles liked more than whoring, it was gambling.
So he had spent the rest of his wealth, nearly seven thousand gold dragons, in establishing the largest gambling house in King's Landing.
Unlike all the other disreputed gambling dens on the Street of Silver, 'The Gilded Hand' had established a reputation for fairness in their dealings. This was what had brought it numerous patrons, including many among the wealthy and powerful.They had also employed enforcers wielding clubs and staves to maintain order in the establishment.
Another reason for their success was that, 'The Gilded Hand' had also introduced several new and interesting forms of gambling. The most successful of these was, the horse race betting.
Every day these horse races were organized, on a plot of land just outside the city. They even had a menagerie of trained well-bred horses set up, especially for these events.
It drew both common folk and nobles regularly, who bet their money on their chosen horse. Every one were given odds, and the winner would win money according to their odds, the lower the odds of winning the greater, the sum of money they would recieve if they ended up winning. However, the lower the bet, the lesser the money won. So the best way to win big, was if one bet a large sum of gold on a horse unlikely to win. Although, the chances of this happening were quite low.
These three businesses - 'The Velvet Pearl', 'The Black Swan' and 'The Gilded Hand' - were the only businesses Aemon currently owned.
They were all high class establishments, that made Aemon a lot of money every year. And even though, they hadn't paid off his initial investment yet, he knew that they would, within the next few years.
But the most important thing was that these establishments were places where the rich and powerful gathered, it was the perfect location to spy on them and learn their secrets.
And that's what Aemon used them for. These businesses were a part of Aemon's fledgling intelligence organization.
Each business was managed by a trusted individual selected by Aemon himself. And in return for their services, they received a portion of the profits, with the rest going to him. These managers, were also the only ones knowing the true identity of the owner. Aemon had ensured, that none of the other staff had any knowledge of him.
Suddenly, the sound of creaking hinges distracted Aemon from his reminiscing.
It was Rowan opening the trapdoor leading to the stables.
Soon after they had exited the tunnel, and collected their horses from the stable, Aemon pushed his horse into a gallop, as they rode to the Red Keep.
Aemon had heard quiet a few disquieting things today. He would have to reflect on them, later.
But for the moment, Aemon was looking forward to, having tea with the Princess.
--------------------
Daemon had a manse in the eastern part of the city, near the Dragon Gate, with a magnificent view of the Dragonpit.
It was a beautiful manse. The sprawling estate had tall brick walls topped with iron spikes, it's main and postern gates, guarded by goldcloaks. It's lavish gardens were filled with flowers in full bloom, the sweet fragrance of roses, forget-me-nots, lavender and lilacs filled the morning air. In the centre of this garden was a large marble pool for bathing, and surrounding it were fruit trees laden heavy with fruit - apples and apricots, and peaches and cherries.
As for the manse itself. It was built from pale white stone, the same material used in building the Eyrie and Lord Corlys' High Tide.
Daemon had it built many years ago, meaning it to be a refuge of sorts away from the Red Keep. In truth, it was where Daemon went to, when he wanted to drown himself in wine and women.
Usually, Aemon would stay far away from this place, that served as his father's pleasure den. But he hadn't seen Daemon at the Red Keep for a week, and he had to give him the money, that he owed to him. The last five hundred gold dragons, after which his loan would be payed in full.
Aemon didn't like being indebted to anyone, even if it was his own father, he was in debt to.
Thus, he had wanted this done with as soon as possible, and so he had come here himself.
Aemon was now wondering, that it might not have been his finest idea.
As one of the manse's servants - a young red haired girl with freckles - had left him seated in the parlour, awaiting Daemon's arrival.
This was the first time Aemon was visiting his father's manse. And he had found, that just like it's beautiful exterior, it's interiors were also richly and tastefully furnished.
He had seen countless tapestries, and Myrish rugs, and crystal chandeliers. Even the diamond shaped window panes were made of colored glass.
The entire manse painted a scene of decadence and luxury.
It was a home fit for princes and dragons. And Aemon, was neither of those. He felt woefully inadequate, in such opulent surroundings.
Aemon was suddenly interrupted from his musings, as the door to the parlour opened, and in walked an incredibly beautiful woman.
She had skin as pale as milk, eyes like sapphires, and hair the colour of spun gold.
And with her lithe and lissome form draped in expensive silks, she could only be the girl, Daemon had been recently enamored with.
She couldn't have been older than twenty.
"You must be the son." She said, fixing him with her brilliant blue eyes.
"If you're here for Daemon, then you'll have to wait a while. He's still in bed." She said, sitting down, across from him.
"Um...hello. I am Aemon Snow. And you must be...?" He said, tentatively.
"How to answer that, I wonder", she said with a sly smile, "Well, let's just say that I am the woman, who's been fucking your father, recently."
Aemon was stunned at the bluntness of her words. Even though, he was far more mature than his age, over the years he had gotten used to people treating him like a child. So seeing an adult talk to him this plainly, was frankly a little shocking.
The woman seemed to understand his surprise, it seemed, as she continued with a wicked smile.
"Boy, you seem like a smart kid, so I'll speak to you plainly, I don't believe in saying pretty words. I rather tend to say things, as they are. I know that I am your father's whore, and I don't feel any shame in it. Neither should you." She said.
Aemon nodded to show his understanding, wishing fervently for this awkward conversation to end.
But it seemed that the gods were not on his side this day, as the girl continued.
"So how is it, being a Prince and all ?" She asked him.
"I wouldn't know. Bastards usually don't get upto many princely things." He answered, bluntly.
"Nicely said", she chuckled.
"I like you kid. And here I thought, you'd be an arrogant little shit."
"Well then, Aemon. You can call me Mysaria." She said, introducing herself.
Aemon froze, he had often wondered, whether he would one day come face to face with the 'Lady Misery' that his 'Book' mentioned.
And here she was.
But she was nothing like how he had imagined her to be.
He had imagined a malevolent seductress, with evil in her heart.
And he had, had good reason to have such a bad opinion of her, considering the things she had supposedly done, or would do, according to his 'Book'.
But this girl wasn't evil, she was just a pretty young girl, dealt a bad hand by fate.
She hadn't committed any atrocities, neither had she ordered the murder of a child.
She could still be redeemed.
It was times like these, that firmed Aemon's resolve to change the future.The future predicted by his 'Book', held too much darkness and sorrow. He didn't wish to live in a world like that.
"Lady Mysaria, it's nice to make your acquaintance." Aemon continued politely.
She snorted, "You're a riot, boy. But no, I am no lady."
"Daemon will be long yet, and if we are to wait, we might as well do something to occupy our time." Mysaria said.
"Well, what do you have in mind?" Aemon asked.
"Do you play cyvasse, Aemon?" She asked.
"I have heard of it. But no, I haven't had the opportunity to play it yet." He said.
"Let me teach it to you then, I learned it in Lys" She said, setting up the board.
The board was made of wood, with colored tiles arranged on top of it.
There was a screen of translucent glass dividing the two sides, and as for the pieces, they were made of black onyx and white ivory. Ten on each side.
"I tried to teach it to Daemon once." She said.
"But he seems to lack the patience for it. Always rushes to use his Dragon first, completely neglecting the other pieces on the board. And then when he loses, he says the game is silly. And that if it were a real dragon, he would never have lost." Mysaria laughed.
"Well he's not wrong, Dragons are invincible." Aemon said.
"I think you're forgetting about Dorne." She countered.
"Nigh invincible, then", he amended. "But even then, I don't think a Dragon will fall to a catapult, as this game seems to suggest."
"Well, that is true. But then, this is a Volantene game. And Volantis never did have much love for dragons." She smirked.
And so she taught him the rules of cyvasse, and once he thought that he had more or less understood it, they played a game.
Aemon lost in less than a dozen turns.
But it didn't deter him, and so they continued playing.
Over the next hour, they played three more games.
And although, he didn't win any of them, he felt like he could at least pose a challenge to Mysaria by the end of it.
It was almost midday when Daemon joined them.
After Aemon lost for the third time. They had decided to stop.
And were now having some tea and pastries while conversing.
It turned out, that Mysaria was quite widely traveled. And it was tales of these travels, that she was sharing with him, when Daemon found them.
As Daemon walked upto him and ruffled his hair, Aemon protested.
"Don't do that, father. I'm not a kid anymore."
Daemon laughed, "Well I see you already met Mysaria."
"Your son really is something, Daemon. Only eight namedays old, and already beginning to surpass his father." Mysaria smiled, wickedly.
"Is that so, Aemon. Go on then, tell me what did you surpass me in, now ?"
"Cyvasse, father." Aemon answered shyly.
"Not that blasted game again." Daemon grimaced.
"I have lost more times at that silly game, than I have at anything else, in my entire life." He despaired.
After they had all sat down, and a servant had brought Daemon his breakfast.
Aemon brought up the reason, he had come here in the first place.
"Father, here's the last of the money I borrowed from you last year", he said sliding over a coin purse to Daemon.
Instead of picking it up, Daemon turned to him.
"I wish you had saved some of that gold for yourself, instead of trying to pay me back in such a hurry." He said.
"And if you didn't want anything for yourself, you could spend it buying a lovely present for your cousin Rhaenyra. After all every girl loves gifts, as I have often found. Isn't that true, Mysaria, my love?" Daemon asked.
"That is true, my prince. Gifts do go a long way, I find." Mysaria smirked.
"Even if I wanted to get her something, what would I give her. She's a princess. She can have anything she wants." Aemon said.
"No one can have anything they want, son. And I don't think Rhaenyra, is the kind of girl who would judge a gift, by its cost. Just give her something thoughtful, I'm sure she'll like it." He said.
"Very well, I'll think about it." Aemon answered, sullenly.
Soon Daemon was done with his breakfast, and the plates had been cleared away.
"So Aemon, I know that lately, I have been very busy with the Watch and everything. So I want you to have lunch with us today, before you leave. It would be just like old times. What do you say?" Daemon asked.
"If that is your wish father, I'll stay for lunch." Aemon replied.
And so he spent the rest of the day at Daemon's manse.
He showed Aemon, his study. There he had a detailed wooden replica of King's Landing in its entirety. Daemon had paid a fortune, to have it built. He said that he had got the idea, from the Chamber of the Painted Table in Dragonstone.
Aemon saw that it was a very detailed model, depicting all the streets, alleyways, major businesses and areas of interest, in the City. Apparently, Mysaria had helped sketch out the details.
And on top of it, were arranged wooden toy soldiers painted gold, representing Daemon's 'Gold Cloaks'.
Later in the day, they all - Aemon, Daemon and Mysaria - sat down for lunch, in the manse's gardens.
It was a fine way to spend the afternoon - eating roast duck, and fresh caught river trout, drinking fine wine and enjoying lively conversation, while being serenaded by music.
But Aemon knew, it was just the calm before the storm.
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