House of The Dragon:The Rise of the Emperor of the Seven Kingdoms

One day after Maekar and Bahamut’s attack on the Braavosian Coastlands.

Free City of Braavos. Palace of the Sealord;

At that moment, the Sealord was in a beautifully tended, dreamlike garden. The servants around him were completely naked and watered the flowers and plants with calm, casual expressions. Each one more beautiful than the last. A true paradise for many men.

They displayed their bodies for Bessaro to look at however he wished; if the Sealord wanted, he could do far more than merely look.

Bessaro Reyaan, the Sealord, was a forty-year-old man. With black hair and olive skin, he had green eyes and a very handsome face. He dressed opulently, in purple and gold robes. There was a gold ring on every one of his fingers.

But, at that moment, his fingers were slightly pale from the force he was pressing onto the letter the Sealord held. Bessaro’s green eyes were red with rage as he read the letter’s contents.

Twenty-two merchant ships, ten of them belonging to Braavos itself. The amount of gold and goods lost made Bassaro’s heart clench in agony. It was an enormous sum of money involved, not to mention that other powerful houses in Braavos also had a stake in it.

Bassaro had no doubt that his enemies would try to devour his flesh and blood to recoup this enormous loss suffered at sea. The worst part was that the fault was his own, no one else’s. He was the one who had started this war, so the blame lay entirely with him.

He would have to draw money from the coffers of Braavos to cover these losses, which made him even more irritated.

As for retaliating, Bassaro’s face twisted in helplessness. There had been reports of young dragons and hatchlings being killed, but adults? Aside from a few examples that died of old age or mysterious deaths, there was no credible account of an adult dragon ever being killed by human hands.

Not to mention Prince Maekar’s dragon, which was enormous. What scorpion could fully pierce the flesh of a monster over eight meters long with a wingspan of more than two hundred meters?

Perhaps the scorpion bolt would stop at the scales and not even manage to pierce the dragon’s dense, powerful chest muscles.

In short, he had no way to stop the death zone Maekar had placed over the Braavosian Coastland. Who, in their right mind, would board a ship knowing there was a winged monster capable of spitting fire at any moment?

Gold was a good thing, but only when you were alive to enjoy it. The dead do not care about gold.

In short, Bassaro felt he had to win the war as quickly as possible, or, with every day this war dragged on, more gold would be lost. And he knew that, with the interests of Braavos’s powerful houses being constantly undermined and gold dwindling, he would probably be handed over to House Targaryen as a gift, as an apology.

This might seem humiliating for Braavos, but, if a deal were struck in the shadows, both sides could declare a draw and pretend neither wanted to continue the war any longer. Then, any sentiment or rumor about something as humiliating as handing over one’s own ruler would vanish entirely.

Do not think it impossible; Bassaro had already seen this happen countless times. Two powerful houses might fight, but that conflict would soon end in a mysterious draw with a deal struck, thus preserving the honor of both houses.

Bassaro had to move quickly, or he knew his life could be in danger. Showing a determined look, he left the garden and returned to his office, where he wrote three different letters.

They were letters addressed to the Three Free Cities, Tyrosh, Myr, and Lys.

As for their contents, it was quite simple. Bassaro promised each Archon of Tyrosh, Magister of Myr, and the Conclave of Magisters of Lys a claim to the Disputed Lands. Something that had always been the desire of each of the three free cities.

Of course, Bassaro had no real intention of following through, but he did not mind lying if it would bring Tyrosh, Myr, and Lys into the war. Along with the merchant ships burned by Maekar, it was almost certain that the Triarchy would form once again.

As for whether the Three Free Cities would be furious at his lie and betrayal, that was not Bassaro’s problem; Braavos had never fallen to anyone, least of all to the weaker free cities of Essos.

Bassaro simply needed a scapegoat to help him bear the pressure of the war.

"Damn Maekar, could you not simply stand by and watch? Do you not want the Iron Throne?" As he pressed his personal seal into the wax, Bassaro spoke in a resentful tone. In his eyes, Maekar should have watched everything with indifference while he undermined the authority of Jaehaerys and Viserys, thereby helping him seize the Iron Throne.

Bassaro knew Westeros stood on the brink of civil war and had never imagined that Maekar would actually join the war. Had it only been Daemon and Caraxes, the Sealord was confident he could control the pace of the war, since a dragon could not be in two places at once.

Unfortunately, with Daemon at the Stepstones and Maekar at Dragonstone, the sea routes were completely blocked.

The Sealord could never have imagined that, despite being in the midst of a civil war, House Targaryen would unite to destroy their enemy before returning to fighting one another. Maekar did not want to inherit a weakened kingdom after a war; he would rather remain a prince than become king of a kingdom in ruins.

Jaehaerys also knew what the priority was; the same was true for Daemon. Once this war was won, they would go back to scheming against one another. In the end, only House Targaryen could deal with House Targaryen.

Growing irritated once more, Bassaro began smashing Yi Ti porcelain while cursing furiously. If not for the second dragon rider at Dragonstone, guarding the Narrow Sea, he could have attacked the Stepstones from both sides.

The reason he thought this was simple: Jaehaerys had to remain in King’s Landing with Vermithor to protect the city from any attack. So, as long as Jaehaerys did not move, he could fight against Corlys and Daemon without any concern of being struck by a dragon rider from the shadows.

Had Bassaro known that Gael had become a dragon rider, he might have been terrified by the power of such a thing. Unfortunately for him, information traveled very slowly in this world.

By the time the news reached him, it might well be a few months later.

Taking a deep breath, Bassaro calmed himself and showed a deep, thoughtful look. He had to remain calm to deal with the consequences of Maekar’s actions and to placate the powerful houses of Braavos and the common people.

As for reclaiming the sea routes, he knew that was impossible in a short span of time.

"Damned descendants of slavers." Bassaro muttered, feeling the same helplessness his ancestors, who had been slaves, once felt before the Valyrian Empire.

-

On the other side of the sea, at Dragonstone.

Maekar could be seen among several men, the most important being Lord Corlys Velaryon, the sea snake. The rest were the lords of the Crownlands, who held ports and fleets of ships, however small.

"Lord Redwyne says it will still take some time before he reaches Dragonstone," Corlys, wearing silver armor bearing House Velaryon’s crest at its center, spoke in a calm tone, looking at the map of Essos and Westeros laid across the wooden table outside the castle.

Maekar was not surprised by his words. Being the second largest fleet in Westeros, the Redwyne fleet was enormous and needed to carry supplies to every corner of the continent. It was not so easy to gather the fleet back together.

"I burned twenty-two merchant ships and a few warships along the Braavosian Coastlands. That will buy us some time and keep Braavos from trying to sail through the Narrow Sea to the Stepstones, but we have a problem." Maekar changed the subject and spoke, pointing at the map.

"Tyrosh, Myr, and Pentos." Corlys was a maritime genius and a great warrior and naturally understood the problem at once.

The Narrow Sea was too vast. Maekar could defend against Braavos’s attacks, but he could not range much further out, since it would still take time to fall back should something unforeseen happen.

"Yes, I cannot strike Pentos, Myr, or Tyrosh while also protecting our shores from any attack by Braavos." Maekar agreed with Corlys’s words and pointed at Pentos, Myr, and Tyrosh on the map.

"I can spare thirty percent of my fleet to help protect Blackwater Bay, but, once the Redwyne Fleet arrives, I will have to bring that thirty percent back to the main fleet." Corlys said, looking at the map before him.

Maekar would guard the lower part of the Narrow Sea, House Velaryon and the others would guard the middle, and Daemon at the Stepstones would guard the upper part.

The one problem was that, even with so many ships, it was impossible to fully control the sea.

"You have my thanks, Lord Corlys." Maekar nodded and did not refuse. With the Royal Fleet and the Velaryon Fleet setting out, someone had to remain to protect Blackwater Bay.

Corlys was surprised by Maekar’s sincere thanks and looked at the prince with new eyes. Since this war had begun, he had found that this fourteen-year-old was far calmer and more patient than he had expected.

"It is only my duty, my prince." Corlys said in a calm tone, but there was a touch of warmth in his voice.

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/GOTSW

Read my other books:

House of The Dragon:The Rise of the Emperor of the Seven Kingdoms

Game Of Thrones: The God-Emperor of Planetos

Percy Jackson: Godwyn the Golden.

Game Of Thrones: The King’s Court Wizard