106 AC
The bells of King's Landing tolled from every tower.
The capital had not seen such grandeur since the days of King Jaehaerys's peak. After a long courtship and months of silent expectation, King Viserys I Targaryen was to be wed. Alicent Hightower, daughter of the Hand, was no stranger to court, but this day transformed her from the shadow in silks to the Queen of the Realm.
Dragonstone heard the news first in murmurs, then in proclamations.
Ships carried banners of green and gold across Blackwater Bay, while riders bore messages from the Red Keep. Even the maesters spoke of the match with excitement, praising the king's wisdom, while quietly noting the speed of the arrangement.
At the fortress atop the Stone Drum, I listened.
Silverwing had grown restless. I kept her away from the cliffs, avoiding the usual paths. After Togar's disappearance, I had taken to flying under the cover of darkness and landing far along the eastern coast. None questioned my long absences now. Too much was happening across the sea.
The wedding itself was a festival. Minstrels sang in every square. Lannisters and Baratheons and even the Velaryons arrived in splendor. The people forgot the sickness of the old king. They forgot the worries of war, or dragons, or bloodlines. They drank and danced. The City Watch patrolled in golden cloaks with new purpose.
And all the while, whispers of a missing dragonkeeper from Dragonstone faded.
His name was not spoken in court. No raven mentioned his absence. The heat of the wedding fire had burned away the ashes of my secret—at least for now.
It gave me time.
Time to train. To write. To study the language of the Valyrians and the old sigils carved into the chamber beneath the Dragonmont. I watched Silverwing in flight from afar and mapped her patterns. She flew farther now. Higher. She trusted me more each day.
And I dared to dream of more.
In the grand distraction of pageantry, I was invisible. But not idle.
Not anymore.