In the blink of an eye, the tourney was nearing its end.
Daeron kept a close eye on the Stepstones every day while quietly assembling the royal fleet. If Rhaegar couldn't hold, he would step in. If Rhaegar could hold, he would help from the shadows.
"The Triarchy is strong right now. Pirates scattered from Volantis, Slaver's Bay, and the Sumr Islands will regroup soon. They won't miss the chance to fight over the Stepstones again."
Varys studied the latest reports and laid out the future clearly.
Volantis and Slaver's Bay lived off plunder and the slave trade. Both were already raising armies to jump back in. The Sumr Islands needed no explanation—thousands of pirates there controlled the eastern Sumr Sea and the Lizard's Head on the southern continent. It was the worst black-market region in the world.
The Stepstones were a giant cake. These vultures and hyenas would never pass it up.
"Once the tourney ends, keep Lord Lucerys behind. I want a private word with him."
Daeron spoke calmly.
He intended to ddle in the Stepstones—not openly, but quietly, stirring the pot until the waters were as murky as possible.
"Yes, Your Grace," Varys said.
After sending the spymaster away, a Kingsguard entered.
Daeron was about to return to work when he asked, "What is it, Ser Arthur?"
Ser Arthur's face was serious. "Your Grace, soone wishes to see you."
A mont later Jaehaerys walked in.
"Your Grace," he said formally.
Daeron waved a hand. "Cut the nonsense."
"Brother," Jaehaerys corrected at once.
Daeron studied his younger brother's conflicted expression and guessed, "Did Lord Leyton speak with you?"
Jaehaerys shook his head. "No. I just have so questions. I was hoping you could help sort them out."
"Tell everything. I'll give you advice based on your situation."
Daeron's eyes sharpened.
The boy was eleven now—not a child anymore. The family needed fresh blood. Both younger brothers would beco his right and left hands in the years ahead.
Jaehaerys took a deep breath. "I want to go to the Citadel. I want to learn things so I can—help you one day."
"But Great-Uncle said the Citadel isn't a good path, and now I'm not sure."
Daeron pressed. "What's really bothering you?"
The Citadel wasn't a bad place on paper. The idea of studying there was solid—excellent resources, ancient tos, scholars in every field. Many great n had trained there. Even "the Red Viper" Oberyn had earned several links during his ti.
But the Citadel did not belong to the crown.
After the Dance of the Dragons, the extinction of the dragons owed much to the Citadel—perhaps even direct sabotage of the last living dragons. If Daeron hadn't just been crowned and lacked a good excuse—
In short, the Citadel was no place for a Targaryen.
Jaehaerys was sharp. He thought carefully. "I want the ability to help you—not through dragons or titles, but the way you did. Finding dragon eggs when there were none left. Hatching them with sheer will. Stepping up when Father and Rhaegar couldn't be counted on, crushing the four-kingdom rebellion. Sharing the Life Seed training to win over the lords."
In short: he wanted to get stronger. Badly.
Daeron smiled faintly.
He felt no pride or embarrassnt at the praise—only calm acceptance and deep thought for his brother's future.
The boy was growing up. He wanted to share the family's burdens.
"I have a better idea," Daeron said. Then he asked, "Do you really dislike King's Landing?"
Jaehaerys answered firmly. "King's Landing is fine. But the world outside is much bigger."
He had made up his mind to leave.
Daeron stopped trying to persuade him. "Co see tomorrow. I'll find you a place."
"All right."
The next day, Daeron summoned Lord Leyton and addressed the third condition.
"Your Grace, you've changed your mind?"
Lord Leyton thought victory was close.
Daeron raised a hand. "I will honor the third condition—but on my own terms."
He signaled for Jaehaerys to enter.
"Your Grace?"
Lord Leyton's eyes lit up when he saw the boy. He looked as if success were already in hand.
Daeron stood and placed a hand on his brother's shoulder. "I'm not arranging a betrothal for him yet. I wasn't betrothed at his age either."
"Still, my brother will do what I ask. I'm sending him to serve as your squire in Oldtown. He'll complete his training there until he earns his knighthood."
Jaehaerys had been prepared. He t Lord Leyton's gaze steadily.
Daeron had decided against the Citadel. Instead he was sending Jaehaerys to the Hightower as a squire.
Oldtown was a fine place—Westeros's greatest center of learning and one of its most beautiful cities.
House Hightower was… complicated. But no one could deny their power or their massive influence across the Reach.
Serving as Lord Leyton's squire would let Jaehaerys learn how Oldtown ran and et the Reach's great lords at the sa ti. Two birds, one stone—perfect for what he wanted.
"Well, Lord Leyton? What do you think?"
Daeron kept his face serious.
Lord Leyton fell silent. He looked at Daeron's unyielding expression, then at the quiet boy beside him, and struggled with the choice.
He had wanted a simple marriage alliance.
The young king had refused, then offered this instead—squire instead of betrothal.
"How long would Prince Jaehaerys serve as squire in Oldtown?"
Lord Leyton knew he had to decide today.
Daeron repeated the terms. "Until Jaehaerys decides to leave. Until he feels ready to be knighted."
Lord Leyton grew even more torn.
Noble boys began sword training at eight and served as pages, feeding, grooming, and leading horses. Around eleven they were usually sent to a liege lord or respected noble to serve as squires and learn the full knightly arts—sword, lance, archery, and more.
They typically stayed through their entire adolescence, often until their early twenties. Only then, strong and skilled, could they enter tourneys. A strong showing earned them knighthood.
In other words, Jaehaerys would likely remain in Oldtown for eight or nine years. Even with royal privilege, five or six years was the minimum—until he ca of age.
"Long enough to build real affection," Lord Leyton thought, picturing his beautiful daughter.
Lynesse was twelve this year—golden hair, blue eyes, skin like milk. One of the fairest girls in all the Reach.
If he played this right, how could Prince Jaehaerys resist?
Even if the boy refused marriage, the bond between lord and squire was already deep. When the ti ca, his proposal would be almost impossible to decline.
Lord Leyton smiled at last. "Very well. I accept Prince Jaehaerys as my squire. I will teach him noble manners and knowledge, and hire the finest instructors for his martial training. You will not be disappointed."
"I have complete faith," Daeron said smoothly. "But there's no need for extra instructors. I'm sending a Kingsguard with him to Oldtown. He will watch over Jaehaerys and train him in swordplay."
Oldtown was far away and its society complex. Without proper protection, Jaehaerys could not grow safely.
Danger was one thing. What if the open atmosphere of the Reach turned the boy toward other boys? That would be a disaster.
Jaehaerys: ——
After friendly discussion, Daeron and Lord Leyton reached an agreent.
Jaehaerys would serve as squire at the Hightower and return once he had earned his knighthood.
Lord Leyton had used his final condition and would devote himself fully to training the boy.
"Then I'll go prepare the convoy at once, Your Grace."
Lord Leyton wanted to leave as quickly as possible.
When only the brothers remained—
Daeron sighed and rested a hand on Jaehaerys's shoulder. "I'm sending Ser Jon as your sworn shield. He's a good man. Show him respect."
"Once you reach Oldtown, focus on your studies—but don't neglect your Life Seed training. That's one of the family's greatest advantages."
Jaehaerys nodded hard. "I understand, brother."
He understood exactly what his brother was doing.
In Oldtown he would learn easily and see more of the world. Lord Leyton's marriage sche was ambitious, but House Hightower was undeniably a first-tier house. Serving at the Hightower would let him et many people and gain real experience.
This was using one bird to hatch many eggs.
"Brother, when should I co back?"
Jaehaerys wanted the real answer. The earlier words had been for Lord Leyton's ears. The brothers would settle this privately.
Daeron spoke calmly. "When you feel it's ti, co ho."
Jaehaerys looked confused.
Daeron smiled. "If I need you, I'll have Ser Jon send word."
"All right." Jaehaerys smiled back.
:
The tourney ended soon after.
Lord Leyton, despite his age, moved with impressive speed. The Hightower convoy was ready in no ti—only waiting to load Jaehaerys aboard.
Lion's Gate.
Jaehaerys sat on a white horse and rode slowly away with the Hightower party.
He kept glancing back, but he never saw Daeron.
Daeron did not co to see him off.
True maturity began the mont you stepped out of your family's sight.
"A prince sent to the Hightower—royal reassurance to the Reach lords?"
Tywin stood at the gate, seeing the party off.
Lord Leyton's marriage proposal had not been secret. Many great houses had tried the sa thing with the young king. No one mocked him for aiming high.
House Hightower had not won a betrothal, but pulling the prized Prince Jaehaerys into their tower as a squire was still a major achievent.
Tywin's eyes were deep. "Decisive action brings rewards."
Prince's Fief.
Year Seven, Autumn, Day 11, Thursday. Clear skies. 10:30 a.m.
:
Daeron stood inside the farmhouse, searching the shipping box for basic materials.
Fiber ×999, Resin ×999, Stone ×999, Moss ×333—
He opened the crafting nu and made the Blessing Statue.
A life-sized statue of a long-haired goddess on a cylindrical base appeared with a soft thud. The base bore a wind-proof grass pattern. It stood on the wooden floor.
Blessing Statue: "Interact once per day. Grants a random blessing that lasts the entire day."
Description: "Unlocked after reaching Farming mastery level 10."
Daeron touched it. The statue glowed faintly.
A notification appeared:
Energy Blessing: "You will not lose energy for the rest of the day. If obtained while energy is not full, it remains at the current level."
An excellent blessing.
The Blessing Statue offered six possible blessings: Butterfly, Energy, Friendship (boosts charm), Luck ( 1 Luck), Speed ( 0.5 Speed), Water (easier fishing), and Sharp Teeth ( 10% crit chance).
Energy Blessing was among the best.
Daeron smiled. "Perfect timing."
He took out the Gemstone Sweetberry he had harvested earlier.
Gemstone Sweetberry: "Sweeter than anything you've ever tasted."
This one was gold-star quality and worth 4,500 gold.
It looked less like a strawberry and more like an oversized, elongated red tomato, radiating the rich sweetness of ripe fruit.
Daeron sat on the bed, closed his eyes, and reached for the Life Seed inside him.
Why the bed? Because the farmhouse bed was special—it slowly restored stamina.
His Life Seed was already fully active, glowing like a ripe Ancient Fruit.
But it was not solid. It remained translucent.
"Break it and start over."
Daeron's mind was perfectly calm. He carefully unraveled the Life Seed, forcing it back into raw life force.
He felt the damage imdiately—life force leaking, his body weakening.
Most people would have been gravely injured. One mistake could have cost years of life.
Daeron wasn't worried.
The Energy Blessing had co at the perfect mont. It locked his life force in place. Not a single drop was wasted.
Midday. 11:30 a.m.
Daeron kept his eyes closed. The Life Seed vanished, replaced by thick, formless life force flowing through every inch of his body.
He took a bite of the Gemstone Sweetberry.
"So sweet!!"
His eyes flew open. The sweetness on his tongue carried the taste of every happy mory in his life.
This was no ordinary sweetness. It reached straight into his mind.
"Crunch, crunch—"
Daeron devoured the berry in three bites and felt a pang of regret that it was gone.
No ti to savor it. He imdiately began reforming the Life Seed.
Ti passed.
First he gathered life force into a seed. Then, mimicking Life Force External Release, he compressed it and drew in more life force from the air until the seed sprouted.
Pop.
Daeron opened his eyes, drew Dark Sister, and stepped outside the farmhouse.
It was evening.
He found a pine tree without a resin tap, gripped Dark Sister, and copied the breathing pattern Ser Arthur used for his "Heavy Slash."
Whoosh!
The blade passed through the pine without resistance, as if nothing had happened.
Daeron didn't doubt it. He gave the trunk a gentle push.
Creak!
The thick pine toppled cleanly. The cut surface was mirror-smooth—no splintering, no marks.
Daeron raised an eyebrow and checked Dark Sister's edge.
No damage at all. It had simply sliced through.
This was a farmhouse pine. Even a golden axe needed six swings to fell one. It was far tougher than ordinary trees.
Daeron grinned. "At High Knight level, Skull Cavern and the Volcano Dungeon will be much safer."
The tourney was over.
Little Jaehaerys had been sent to the Hightower in Oldtown.
Daeron planned to visit Ginger Island next—and take a look at the fighting in the Stepstones.
If the crown could intervene, it would.
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