The more Gerold and Arthur spent time with Viserys, the more they began to see his many virtues.
As the time for Robert's mobilization drew near, the preparations on Dragonstone intensified. The pressure weighed heaviest on Rhaella, whose appetite had visibly decreased.
Even the Kingsguard, despite their duty and composure, had grown unusually silent in the face of the coming war.
Only Viserys still found time for daily conversations with those around him.
He even made space in his schedule to comfort Rhaella and his two sisters-in-law, and regularly visited the fleet's encampment with Gerold to raise the soldiers' morale.
Such composure under pressure left them all in awe.
On this day, in Elia's chambers, Viserys had brought little Rhaenys another set of fun riddles to ponder.
"Rhaenys, tell me: you have five apples, but you, little Aegon, and little Aemon make only three people. How should you divide the five apples?"
Though Viserys had been a language teacher in his previous life, he'd come to believe that arithmetic was also a great way to develop a child's mind.
Little Rhaenys furrowed her brows, counting on her fingers, breaking into a light sweat from the effort. From time to time, she glanced at her mother and at Lyanna.
But neither her mother nor Lyanna would offer her any help.
Suddenly, Rhaenys's eyes lit up, and she looked up at Viserys, "We can give one apple each to Mother and Lady Lyanna!"
Her response left everyone in the room stunned.
Elia's gaze grew even softer as she looked at her daughter. Lyanna nuzzled the baby boy in her arms with her cheek.
It wasn't the answer Viserys had in mind, but it was undoubtedly the best possible answer — even better than the one he expected. Even the handmaidens behind them exchanged knowing smiles.
Viserys hadn't anticipated this reply either and grinned playfully.
"What about me, then?!"
Faced with this "bonus question," little Rhaenys scratched her head in panic. Her adorable frustration made everyone burst out laughing.
Elia, seeing the opportunity, gently shifted the topic.
"Viserys, is it true that the war is about to begin?"
Sensing that Elia was about to discuss serious matters, the maids silently ushered Rhaenys away.
Viserys nodded in reply.
"Yes. Originally, we planned to sail the fleet into Blackwater Bay and defeat Redwyne's fleet at the mouth of the Blackwater Rush. But House Velaryon has already sided with the usurper.
I suspect House Celtigar has as well. The battle may end up taking place in the Gullet."
The moment they heard the battle would take place in the Gullet, both women understood what it meant — the Targaryens could not afford to lose.
From their windows, they might even witness the fight unfold.
"Viserys, we've prepared something for you," Elia said softly. At her words, Lyanna's handmaiden, Wylla, stepped forward with a folded cloak in her arms.
"When Stark men march to war, the women of the house gift them cloaks. Since you're going to battle, I made one for you."
Lyanna stood, handed little Aemon to Wylla, and displayed the cloak she had sewn with her own hands. The outside was black, bearing the red three-headed dragon sigil, while the inner lining was red.
She personally draped the cloak over Viserys's shoulders, her eyes scanning him as though searching for a trace of Rhaegar.
Elia followed by presenting a large banner she had sewn — a joint effort between her and her handmaidens.
Viserys accepted the banner solemnly and said to the two women, "I will personally take off Robert's head and bring it to you."
Elsewhere, Rhaella still wished to make one last attempt to dissuade Viserys from heading to the front. But he was late today — she waited and waited, yet he did not come.
"Why hasn't His Majesty come today? Flyn, go and check."
"At once, Your Grace."
Flyn had only just left when she came rushing back in a panic, "Your Grace, His Majesty has already boarded the warship and set sail!"
"What?! Wasn't it supposed to be tomorrow?!"
.........
Over a hundred ships, each bearing black sails, advanced slowly like a tidal wave of shadows.
At that moment, Viserys and Gerold stood together on the flagship.
"Your Majesty, are you sure this is wise?" Gerold asked.
"Don't worry," Viserys reassured him, silently adding to himself, "At worst, I'll just get scolded when I return."
Thankfully, Rhaella wasn't a woman with a hunger for power — otherwise, she might have gone mad over this.
Now, every soldier in the fleet knew their king was aboard the flagship. And most importantly, three Kingsguard would be fighting alongside him.
Morale was high.
With his direct involvement, Viserys's participation level in the battle had reached sixty-five percent. Which meant, in essence, he would claim more than half of the "essence" Robert was about to deliver.
In truth, Viserys wouldn't need to manage much — Gerold would issue commands in his name.
All he needed to do was fully immerse himself in the experience of battle.
Soon, a blue "wall of sails" appeared on the horizon, slowly approaching Dragonstone's fleet. On those blue sails, a cluster of purple grapes was painted — the sigil of House Redwyne from the Arbor.
Just two months ago, Redwyne's fleet had served as part of the royalist forces besieging Storm's End.
Now, they had turned against Dragonstone.
In the eyes of Lord Redwyne, this wasn't an unwinnable battle. After all, Dragonstone's fleet lacked truly capable admirals.
The island was nothing more than a nest of orphans and widows. A full-force assault could surely succeed, but the cost would be enormous.
At his core, he was no different from the other "old foxes" in his fleet. After all, he'd only sided with Robert due to circumstance — it wasn't as though the usurper offered much reward.
What did Robert give him, really? A few measly coins? Not worth dying for.
In fact, the consensus in King's Landing was that Dragonstone couldn't be taken without two or three years of siege and political maneuvering.
This offensive was more a show of force than a true invasion.
Robert had dispatched an observer to make sure Redwyne didn't slack off — just enough to maintain the illusion.
That observer, sent by either Robert or Stannis, turned out to be someone rather interesting:
A smuggler!
One with intimate knowledge of the seas — a man not easily deceived.
His name was Davos Seaworth. During the siege of Storm's End, Davos had secretly brought onions and salted fish to Stannis, saving the defenders from starvation.
His actions prevented the fall of Storm's End and ultimately preserved the royalist position. In many ways, this minor character has become the final straw that broke the dynasty's back.
Thus, he became known as the "Onion Knight."
Naturally, Lord Redwyne wasn't particularly pleased when he found out.
At that moment, Davos was peering through a Myrish telescope, surveying the field. Despite having four finger joints cut off by Stannis, he had still chosen to repay the young man's trust.
He would make sure every move made by the Redwyne fleet was recorded and relayed.
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