The Pearl of Driftmark

I Daemon's P.O.V

It was a sight to behold!

Furthermore, the recent birth of Lucerys had dealt a crippling blow to the rumors of bastardy that had plagued my niece for so long. With the legitimacy of her line secured, our enemies had lost their most potent weapon, their whispers silenced by the "undeniable" truth. No longer could they cast doubt upon our rightful claim to the throne. Not that I ever cared about who sire Jacaerys, he was my niece's son and had the blood of the dragon running through his veins. His dragon egg hatched at the cradle, and he is growing to become a perfect heir for Rhaenyra.

But perhaps most gratifying of all was the recent acquisition of the Stormlands into our fold. With the allegiance of that proud region secured, my niece now commanded the loyalty of five of the Seven Kingdoms: the Vale, the Stormlands, the Crownlands, the Stepstones, and the North.

The news of Lord Borros's unexpected decision to name his eldest daughter as his heir sent shockwaves rippling through the court. Here was a man known for his preference for sons over daughters, defying tradition, and convention in a bold and unprecedented move. The audacity of it all was almost comical, a slap in the face to the Andal law that had long governed inheritance in the realm. And yet, with the royal decree firmly in place, there was little room for dissent. The king's word was law, and no amount of protest or debate could change that.

On the other hand, there was a sense of righteous indignation bubbling within me, a simmering anger at what could have happened. I could care less for the kidnapping of Borros's daughters, or the potential danger faced by my nephew Aemond. But for all my reputation as the Rogue Prince, there were few things in this world that could stir my heart like the sight of five beautiful princesses. Lucerys, with her radiant smile and infectious laughter, held a special place in my affections. So much like her mother, yet with mannerisms that reminded me of my fierce wife. The thought of her in danger, of her innocence being threatened by Dorne, filled me with a cold dread that I could scarcely comprehend.

Even Rhaenyra and Alicent found themselves united in shock and disbelief. For once, their animosity was set aside, replaced by a shared sense of urgency and determination to address the crisis at hand. After all it had being their children the ones who had almost suffered the same fate as Borros' daughters. Their combined efforts to rally support and demand action from the king shook the court, who had thought them working together for anything an impossibility.

The events that unfolded in the wake of the Dornish incursion were nothing short of remarkable. For the first time in decades, the realm saw House Targaryen behaving like the true dragons they were meant to be. The response was swift and decisive. Orders were issued to bolster the defenses along the borders between Westeros and Dorne, with troops dispatched to reinforce key strategic positions. The Reach and the Stormlands, long vulnerable to raids from the south, received much-needed assistance in their efforts to safeguard their lands. But perhaps the most striking development of all was the sight of Rhaenyra, Laenor, and Rhaenys patrolling the borderlands on the backs of their dragons. It was a powerful display of House Targaryen's strength and determination, a reminder to our enemies that we were not to be trifled with.

I would have joined them, but Laena and I had enough on our plate with patrolling the Stepstones and keeping the Triarchy out of our waters. Still the unfolding developments filled me with a mixture of amusement and pride. I couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction wash over me. Finally, House Targaryen was standing strong against the threats that lurked beyond our borders.

However, after seeing how hard my niece was working to make House Targaryen strong and how Viserys was behaving himself at the moment, it only worked to fill me with more disdain. I could no longer be here to see him make a fool of himself. As I rose from my seat, weariness weighing heavily upon my shoulders, I found myself face to face with Viserys, his expression one of cheerful oblivion. With an effort, I summoned a smile, masking my inner turmoil beneath a veneer of politeness. I normally would not give a shit about it, but the last thing the Stepstones need right now was to suffer from a tension with the crown.