Game of Thrones: The Bronze and Fire Lord

After introducing them one by one, the atmosphere eased a little.

The noble ladies chatted among themselves, discussing all kinds of gossip.

Only Rhaenyra was left out, standing awkwardly to the side, unable to get a word in.

Aemon glanced at the family emblems on the clothes of these noble ladies—most were from Oldtown or the Reach.

An elderly woman from House Redwyne spoke the most and brought up a topic: "I heard that when Lord Swann's ship passed through the Stepstones, Lady Johanna was kidnapped."

Alicent was surprised and asked, "What happened to Lady Johanna?"

She was a noble lady. Even if rescued, she would be humiliated.

The old woman, holding a pug, said casually, "She'll be sold to a brothel in the Free Cities—if you believe those rumors."

The noble ladies went quiet. They all knew it was likely true.

Aemon was bored and disinterested.

"Excuse me."

At that moment, someone interesting arrived, dragging a twisted foot behind him.

Larys leaned on a cane and said in a low, modest voice, "Ladies, I fear the gods did not grant me a hunter's body. May I sit with you?"

"Of course, sit with us."

Alicent kindly welcomed him and introduced him, "Larys Strong, youngest son of Lord Lyonel, the Master of Laws."

She was still gentle at the time, and even used the more respectful "youngest son" to refer to a second son.

Larys nodded his thanks and sat down humbly.

He had been born with a twisted leg and an odd appearance, but he was dressed impeccably, and carried himself like someone used to being overlooked.

Aemon stared at him a few times out of curiosity.

This guy's a viper—cruel and vicious. Best to find a chance to kill him quietly one day~

Larys felt a chill on his back. His already thin frame shrank as he glanced around in confusion.

Of course, Aemon didn't let himself be discovered.

"My husband says no one can hold the Stepstones for long…"

A plump lady spoke again but was interrupted by a commotion.

Everyone turned their heads and saw a mane of long, silver-gold hair pass by the tent's entrance.

"Huh?" Aemon sat up straighter.

Surrounded by a group of noble young men, another girl with silver hair and purple eyes entered the tent.

"Laena!"

Rhaenyra's eyes lit up and she rushed forward like finding a long-lost friend.

Aemon was stunned, staring at the striking girl.

Her silver-gold wavy hair fell to her waist, her skin was pale and smooth, and her tall figure formed graceful curves.

She looked just a few years older than Rhaenyra.

Her bearing was poised and elegant, already possessing the allure of a grown woman.

Aemon muttered, "Shouldn't the Velaryons be on Driftmark?"

Laena Velaryon, the eldest daughter of the Sea Snake Corlys and the "Queen Who Never Was," Princess Rhaenys, and a dragonrider of Targaryen blood.

Before she turned twelve, she had already claimed the oldest and largest living dragon, Vhagar.

Five years later, she had become a mature dragonrider.

"Rhaenyra, it's been too long."

Laena smiled warmly, taking her old friend's hand as they walked over together.

"Why are you here? A hunt?"

Laena sounded genuinely puzzled.

Their presence immediately drew countless eyes.

Even King Viserys, sitting at the main seat, looked at Laena with surprise and momentarily forgot the ministers speaking beside him.

But as a king, he quickly composed himself.

Meanwhile, Rhaenyra finally had a place to sit.

A noblewoman knowingly gave up her seat for the two noble daughters of Valyria.

"Don't worry, I just arrived by ship."

Laena's voice was gentle and magnetic as she signaled everyone to continue chatting.

The noblewomen exchanged glances and gradually warmed up again.

In truth, Laena's presence was politically significant.

The realm was at war in the Stepstones, with her father Corlys and Daemon Targaryen leading the effort.

Her appearance at the royal hunt hinted at the current relationship between House Velaryon and the crown.

As soon as she spoke, the conversation naturally shifted toward the Stepstones.

Aemon peeked at Laena, sitting across from him.

She said she arrived by boat. Didn't she fly here on her dragon?

"Hello, Aemon."

Laena smiled and waved at him like a friendly big sister.

Aemon smiled awkwardly and quickly looked away.

She was powerful—best not to provoke her.

Fortunately, his name had been bestowed by his great-grandfather Jaehaerys in memory of the deceased Prince Aemon, a respected heir.

In his experience, the people of Driftmark were friendly to him.

While they exchanged greetings, the topic began to veer off course.

An old woman seated near Alicent suddenly changed the subject and began provoking: "What are your thoughts on the Stepstones, Your Highness?"

Rhaenyra was caught off guard and replied politely, "Oh, I'm not sure. I've never been to the Stepstones."

She naïvely thought it was just small talk.

The old woman held her wine cup and said sharply, "Isn't your dear uncle the one who started this war?"

Aemon's expression shifted as he glanced at Alicent, who looked like she was enjoying the show.

If you want to target Rhaenyra, fine. But why drag his father into it?

And say it right in front of his face?

Rhaenyra sensed the tension and tried to deflect, "I don't know. I haven't spoken to Daemon in years."

Daemon had gone off to war and hadn't contacted even his own son.

But the old woman wouldn't let up, pressing, "Since you took his place as heir, right?"

No longer hiding her intent, she directly questioned Rhaenyra's claim to succession.

Alicent, sensing the situation had gone too far, smiled awkwardly and tried to smooth things over: "It's Daemon's fault…"

Before she could finish, a glass flew past her.

Bang!!

It shattered at the old woman's feet, scattering like powdered crystal.

She screamed and leapt from her chair in fright.

"You talk too much, old woman!"

Aemon cursed, having hurled the wineglass.

"Aemon!"

Alicent was stunned. By the time she came to her senses, the boy was already charging forward.

With a snap,

the second wineglass smashed into the back of a chair, splashing red wine and glass all over the old woman.

Aemon's face was dark with anger. "Old hag, you like to gossip so much—how many soldiers do you have!?"

The woman was drenched, her wrinkled face cut by the glass, and she screamed in panic, "What are you doing?! This is the king's tent!"

Who would dare cause trouble here?

Aemon would.

He picked up a wine bottle and smashed it, storming forward like a little wildfire.

"My father offended you, and that gives you the right to speak nonsense?!"

Criticizing Rhaenyra was one thing. Cursing his absent father was another.

But using that to lay a trap for Rhaenyra? Right in front of him?

If you can't bear it, fight back.

"Aemon, stop!"

Alicent was completely flustered, reaching out to stop him.

But she couldn't.

Aemon was strong, and the jagged edges of the broken bottle gleamed, flinging wine and shards in all directions.

With the energy of a little human Tyrannosaurus, no one dared come within three feet of him.

In seconds, chaos and screaming broke out.

Aemon half-closed his eyes and hurled the bottle straight at the old woman's head, shouting, "You've got something wrong up there! Let me help crack it open!"

Bang.

A direct hit.

Blood poured instantly, and the screams reached a new pitch.

- - - - - - - - -

You can get advance chapters on my patreon

Patreon(.)com/izan24

•TIER 1 you'll get +15 ADVANCE CHAPTERS

•TIER 2 you'll get +40 ADVANCE CHAPTERS

•TIER 3 you'll get +60 ADVANCE CHAPTERS