Game of Thrones: Second Son of House Targaryen

Chapter 429: The Year of the Great Calamity

The Yellow Dragon sensed something deeply wrong with these few of its kind.

For humans, the instinctive response to seeing a corpse turn into a wight would be to flee. Dragons, however, reacted differently; when they saw the corpse of a fellow dragon behaving unnaturally, their first instinct was to attack.

Fortunately, Viserys intervened in time.

“It's fine, just relax,” he said, stroking the Yellow Dragon's neck while studying the gray dragons before him.

Despite their movements, their eyes held no trace of color. The black dragon Nymerion's pupils gleamed like molten gold, the silver dragon Rhaelarion's like green tourmaline, and the Yellow Dragon's like glowing embers. In stark contrast, the dragons captured by Valsha had lifeless, gray-white eyes.

Viserys was curious about how Valsha managed to control these dragons, but for now, he saw no reason to probe further. Her strength was far greater than he had anticipated, and with her ability to command dragons in battle, the advantages currently outweighed the potential risks. What might happen afterward could wait until the Night King was dealt with.

“Are you surprised?” Valsha asked, her tone carrying a hint of pride.

“Your abilities exceed my imagination,” Viserys replied.

Hearing this, Valsha’s lips curled into an unabashedly smug smile.

“Where are we headed now?” she asked.

“First, we’ll go to Volantis and wait. My fleet will arrive there soon.”

“I don’t want to go to Volantis.”

Valsha’s smile vanished instantly. Chroyane's downfall had been tied to its 'spice war' with Volantis. Unable to defeat the Rhoynar, Volantis had sought aid from Valyria. To Valsha, the people of Volantis were the Valyrians’ lackeys, and the lackeys of her enemies were enemies as well. She had no intention of stepping into enemy territory.

While Viserys understood her feelings, he had no intention of yielding. His fleet was sailing from King's Landing, passing through the Hopeful Lands and stopping at Volantis to resupply with troops and provisions. Volantis, the final port before Valyria, was a crucial stop, and Viserys needed to be there personally. The Volantene nobles were highly invested in the expedition, and his presence would secure their continued support.

With the addition of four more dragons, the campaign’s prospects had grown even brighter. For this reason, Valsha's participation in the visit to Volantis was necessary, though it would require careful handling.

“Why?” Valsha asked, her gray-green eyes narrowing in confusion. “The Volantenes gained so much—don’t you want to take something back from them?”

“When you get to Volantis,” Viserys said, “you’ll eat and drink with them, and they’ll honor you as their Dragonlord. Imagine their faces when you reveal, just before leaving, that you’re actually the Shrouded Lord.”

Valsha’s eyes sparkled with amusement, and a sly smile spread across her face. “Fine, let’s go to Volantis. But I want to stay in the biggest palace!”

Months earlier, when Viserys took Benerro with him, he had informed Alios of his upcoming expedition to Valyria. This news had delighted Volantis' elite.

The city had assembled a fleet of 500 warships, with the Tiger Cloaks personally selecting half of them. Nobles spared no expense, hiring sailors and outfitting their vessels for the campaign.

Valyria, a near-mythical land that had consumed the wealth of the world for over 5,000 years, now promised untold riches. Even as domineering as Viserys was, he had no intention of hoarding it all. Instead, with dragons and the emperor leading the charge, the expedition had become a shared venture—a lucrative opportunity.

When the people of Volantis saw Viserys arrive with five dragons in tow, the entire city erupted in celebration.

“Father, who is that woman? Aren’t the only current Dragon Knights Your Grace, the Queen, Princess Hermione, Princess Hali, and Lord Monterys?”

“I don’t know either. Perhaps His Grace has ventured somewhere unknown to us. This woman might be of the Blackfyre bloodline.”

Alios and his son were not the only ones perplexed—everyone else shared their confusion. However, no one dared to ask directly. The Dragonlord was the Dragonlord; he alone commanded four dragons, and Viserys’s evident respect for the woman was unmistakable. With such deference shown by the Emperor, no one dared to risk rudeness.

At the feast, Valsha sat to Viserys’s right, eagerly devouring the lavish spread before her. Having spent centuries in the desolation of the Palace of Sorrow, she hadn’t tasted such fine food in ages. Volantene feasts, known for their abundance of exotic spices, were a stark contrast to her past deprivation.

The Volantenes, ever eager to curry favor, lavished flattery upon both Valsha and Viserys. Despite her inelegant table manners, they showered her with praise, serving her an unending stream of food and wine.

At first, the atmosphere was typical for a banquet, but the situation began to take an odd turn.

“Lady Valsha has such an impressive appetite. The secret to this golden star prawn dish lies in its spices. Speaking of spices, we owe much to the Dragonlord of Valyria from centuries past...”

A nobleman dressed in an ornate blue silk robe seized the moment to flaunt his lineage. Viserys turned his head to glance at Valsha, noticing her sudden pause. Her eating slowed, and her expression grew cold.

“To be honest with you, my ancestor Thetios played a role in the spice war. Our house crafted the golden cage that imprisoned Garin...”

The nobleman’s words hung in the air. Valsha, swallowing her food, slowly raised her gaze to meet his. Her expression turned icy. The mention of Prince Garin—her own brother—had cut too close to the bone.

Sensing her change in demeanor, Viserys straightened in his seat, saying nothing but readying himself to intervene. While the nobleman’s blunder was pure misfortune, the underlying problem was Viserys’s decision to conceal Valsha’s true identity.

He couldn’t let her unleash chaos at the feast. If manpower were lost before the expedition began, it would spell disaster. Keeping his voice calm yet firm, he spoke.

“Enough, my lord. We are here to discuss the expedition. If you wish to recount the glories of your house, you’ll have ample opportunity to do so afterward—with Valsha.”

The nobleman, oblivious to the warning, thanked Viserys profusely, misunderstanding his restraint as a compliment.

Unfortunately for him, Valsha seized the opportunity for retribution. She began demanding nightly banquets, insisting the nobleman pay for them—and required each meal to include a new surprise.

Viserys thought her demands excessive, particularly in a year marked by widespread calamity. Yet, compared to what could have happened, he let her have her way. Had Valsha chosen to vent her anger with her gray dragons, the ensuing grayscale epidemic might have swept through the Free Cities, killing countless people.

Two months later, the fleet from King’s Landing arrived in Volantis. The armada had swelled to 500 ships, bolstered by the three dragons brought by Princess Hali. With Volantene vessels added to the fleet, the total number of ships and soldiers had more than doubled.

Viserys initially planned for a force of 20,000, but the expedition now boasted over 50,000 men. In the meantime, Volantis’s powerful families began subtly vying for Valsha’s favor. They saw an opportunity: if the Targaryens alone controlled the dragons, their influence would be absolute. But if Valsha held sway as well, they could exploit her presence to protect or advance their own interests.

“Your Grace, shall I get rid of a few of them?” one of his men asked, noting the political maneuvering.

“No need,” Viserys replied, his tone dismissive. He had no patience for petty games.

From atop her dragon, Valsha noticed the nobles observing her through their spyglasses. The dim lighting obscured the finer details of her dragon’s appearance, and they murmured that it wasn’t particularly majestic. Yet, a dragon was still a dragon, and they were busy scheming ways to curry favor.

Valsha, unfazed by their machinations, called out, her voice ringing with mockery and amusement.

“Thank you, people of Volantis, for your hospitality! Your spices are exquisite! The Princess of Chroyane Valsha sends her gratitude—hahahaha!”

Princess of Chroyane...