Book VII: The Dawn of the Empire

Chapter One – The Age of Peace

The Aftermath of the Long Night

The death of the Night King had ended the greatest threat the world had ever known. With the North secured and the Wall no longer needed, the Empire of Westeros and Western Essos entered an age of peace unlike any since the days of Aegon the Conqueror.

Emperor Richard Baratheon, savior of mankind, turned from war to legacy. His reign became not only a story of survival, but of rebuilding, uniting, and preparing for the future. The people of Westeros and Essos looked not with fear, but with hope.

A Realm at Rest

The Province of Starkland thrived under Duke Eddard Stark, Winterfell rising from its ashes as a beacon of resilience. Beyond the shattered Wall, the Province of the North flourished under Governor Mance Rayder, Hardhome growing into a bustling city—the first Free Folk capital in history.

In the east, the provinces of New Valyria, Volantis, Pentos, and Braavos tied the vast territories of Essos firmly into the Empire. Trade flowed across the Narrow Sea, carrying spices, silks, and steel. The Golden Sun banners stretched from the deserts of Dorne to the shores of Elyria, marking an empire unprecedented in scope.

The Sons and Daughters of the Storm Dragon

But the true heart of the Empire now lay with Richard and Daenerys’s children—eight in all, each carrying the mingled blood of the Stormlands and Valyria.

Prince Daemon Baratheon, firstborn son, named Crown Prince of Westeros, bore the duty of heir. Strong and disciplined, he carried himself like a warrior and a ruler both.
Princess Elaena Baratheon, his twin, wise and fiery, had inherited much of her mother’s charisma and grace.
Prince Aegor Baratheon, bold and adventurous, already dreamed of conquests beyond the known world.
Princess Rhaella Baratheon, named for her grandmother, embodied gentleness and compassion, beloved by the people.
Prince Rhaegon Baratheon, a fierce youth, hungered for martial glory.
Prince Duncarys “Duncan” Baratheon, black-haired but violet-eyed, combined the Baratheon’s storm and the dragon’s fire in one.
Princess Rhaenyra Baratheon, with her storm-dark hair and violet eyes, symbolized both legacies entwined.
Princess Alysanne Baratheon, silver-haired, radiant, already regarded as a mirror of the dragonqueens of old.

Together, they were the Sons of the Storm Dragon, heirs not only to a throne, but to a destiny of unity and peace.

The Golden Empire

The Imperial Capital of Rygoros, gleaming in the mountains of the Vale, stood as the symbol of Richard’s reign. At its heart rose the Imperial Palace, crowned by the Golden Throne of Westeros, where Richard and Daenerys ruled as Emperor and Empress side by side.

But for the first time in a generation, their council spoke not of invasion or rebellion, but of education, trade, and prosperity. Roads were built, cities fortified, ports expanded. The Order of the Golden Sun, once forged for war, became guardians of peace, stationed across the provinces to ensure no petty lords or warbands ever threatened unity again.

A Legacy for the Ages

Richard, long called the Storm Dragon, came to be known by another name: the Emperor of Peace. His dream was no longer conquest but stability—an empire that would outlast him, carried forward by his children.

And so, the world that had bled for centuries finally entered a golden dawn.

Chapter Two – The Crown Prince

Prince Daemon’s Burden

The announcement of Prince Daemon Baratheon as Crown Prince of Westeros and Heir of the Empire was met with thunderous acclaim across Rygoros.

Strong, disciplined, and with violet eyes that mirrored his father’s, Daemon carried the mantle of expectation as if born to it. Yet Richard, wise in the ways of kingship, reminded his son that the empire was more than thrones and titles.

“You will inherit more than power, my son,” Richard told him, seated upon the Golden Throne. “You will inherit the hearts of men. Do not seek only to rule them—seek to be worthy of their love.”

Daemon nodded, but the weight was plain upon his shoulders. Already he drilled with the Order of the Golden Sun, learned counsel from his uncle Randall, and began to ride alongside Caesarion, though he dreamed of bonding a dragon of his own.

Chapter Three – The Twin Flame

Princess Elaena’s Grace

Unlike her brother, Princess Elaena Baratheon cared little for war drills. Her gift lay in words, wit, and presence. With her silver hair shining in the torchlight, she carried her mother’s charm and her father’s sharpness of mind.

At the Imperial Court of Rygoros, Elaena became known as the Silver Flame, often soothing disputes before they became blood feuds. Even the Free Folk chieftains admired her bold tongue, calling her “the dragon who speaks like fire but burns not.”

Though Daemon bore the title of heir, Elaena was the soul of the siblings, and many whispered she would prove as vital to the Empire’s future as any crowned ruler.

Chapter Four – The Adventurer

Prince Aegor’s Wanderlust

Prince Aegor Baratheon was restless. Though still young, he dreamed of distant horizons. He spoke often of the Shadow Lands, of Asshai, even of sailing farther than the Summer Sea.

“Why do you look outward when the world itself lies at your feet?” Daemon asked him once.

“Because, brother,” Aegor replied with a grin, “I wonder what lies beyond the maps.”

Richard watched his adventurous son with a mixture of pride and concern. The Empire was vast, but Aegor’s spirit was vaster still. Perhaps one day he would be sent to chart unknown seas—or perhaps his wandering heart would find another purpose within the Empire’s borders.

Chapter Five – The Gentle Heart

Princess Rhaella’s Compassion

Named for Daenerys’s mother, Princess Rhaella Baratheon was a child of warmth. She walked among the common folk of Rygoros with her aunt Marianne, the Princess of Courtesy, listening to grievances and offering kindness.

Where Daemon bore steel and Elaena carried fire, Rhaella embodied mercy. Already she was beloved by the people, the “Sun’s Blossom” of the Empire. Richard, hardened by war, often softened in her presence.

Chapter Six – The Warrior’s Path

Prince Rhaegon’s Fire

If Prince Daemon carried duty, Elaena bore grace, and Aegor chased horizons, then Prince Rhaegon Baratheon carried the storm’s fury in his blood. He was bold where others were cautious, quick to draw steel, quicker still to hurl himself into training yards and battle drills.

From a young age, he begged to be tested in the ranks of the Order of the Golden Sun. His uncle and aunt—Princess Rosalia and Prince Lucas, the co-Lord-Generals of the Order—took him under their command. Though barely grown, Rhaegon trained with the same relentless discipline as the hardened veterans.

“Steel bends or breaks,” Rosalia told him. “Which will you be, nephew?”
“I will be flame,” Rhaegon answered, violet eyes flashing.

The Order’s Apprentice

In golden armor marked with the blazing sun, Rhaegon marched at the head of drills, fought mock battles, and learned the art of commanding elephants and siege engines. His skill with the sword grew swift, his courage unyielding, though his impetuousness often earned stern words from his father.

“You carry my fire, Rhaegon,” Richard said one night, gazing at the boy before the great map table in Rygoros. “But fire alone cannot win wars. A storm must know when to strike.”

Rhaegon bowed his head, though the fire in his eyes did not dim.

A Future Forged

Among the people, Rhaegon was hailed as the Storm Prince, beloved for his fearlessness. The soldiers adored him, for he trained beside them rather than above them. But whispers also followed him: would his recklessness one day bring ruin, or would it forge him into the Empire’s greatest general?

For now, Richard allowed his son to walk the path of war, guided by his generals, tempered by discipline, and driven by a fire that could not be stilled.

Chapter Seven – The Balance of Storm and Flame

A Child of Two Worlds

Born the sixth child of the Emperor and Empress, Prince Duncarys Baratheon, called Duncan, was unlike his siblings. Where most bore strong Valyrian features, and a few the pure Baratheon look, Duncan carried both legacies woven together. His hair was the midnight black of Storm’s End, yet his eyes shimmered with an otherworldly hue—a mingling of Baratheon blue and Valyrian violet, a stormlit flame.

Named after Richard’s late father, Lord Duncan Baratheon, his name itself bore weight: a union of remembrance and fire, for “Duncarys” had been shaped in the Valyrian tongue.

From childhood, it was said he carried the spirit of two houses in one body.

The Quiet Prince

Unlike his fiery brother Rhaegon, Duncan was contemplative. He spent hours in the libraries of Rygoros, pouring over histories, prophecies, and the lore of dragonriders. Yet he also rode at the lists, sparred with the sons of lords, and practiced both blade and bow with quiet dedication.

The courtiers called him the Quiet Prince, but among his siblings he was the one they turned to for counsel when tempers rose. Elaena for charm, Daemon for duty, Rhaegon for fire—but Duncan for balance.

Even Richard, who saw the storms of youth raging in all his heirs, often lingered by his son’s side, speaking to him as one might to a mirror.

“You are the storm’s calm and the fire’s thought,” the Emperor told him once. “One day, Duncan, you may be the bridge that binds what the rest of us cannot.”

The Prophetic Whispers

Melisandre, still bound to the court after the war with the White Walkers, once looked upon Duncan with unease.

“The flame shows me two paths for this one,” she whispered to Daenerys. “One of greatness, one of shadow. He is storm and fire entwined, and storms may cleanse—or destroy.”

Daenerys held her son close after hearing this, but Richard only smiled. “If storms rise, then so must dragons. He is mine. He will endure.”

A Future Yet Unwritten

As he grew, Duncan’s nature remained a blend of contradictions: a warrior with the patience of a scholar, a prince who walked among soldiers as easily as sages. Already whispers began in the Imperial Court that one day, Duncan might prove the truest reflection of his father—a man of storm and flame who could hold both without being consumed.

But for now, he remained the Quiet Prince, content to listen, learn, and wait for the day the world called upon him.

Chapter Seven – The Balance of Storm and Flame

A Child of Two Worlds

Named after Richard’s late father, Lord Duncan Baratheon, his name itself bore weight: a union of remembrance and fire, for “Duncarys” had been shaped in the Valyrian tongue.

From childhood, it was said he carried the spirit of two houses in one body.

The Quiet Prince

Even Richard, who saw the storms of youth raging in all his heirs, often lingered by his son’s side, speaking to him as one might to a mirror.

“You are the storm’s calm and the fire’s thought,” the Emperor told him once. “One day, Duncan, you may be the bridge that binds what the rest of us cannot.”

The Prophetic Whispers

Melisandre, still bound to the court after the war with the White Walkers, once looked upon Duncan with unease.

“The flame shows me two paths for this one,” she whispered to Daenerys. “One of greatness, one of shadow. He is storm and fire entwined, and storms may cleanse—or destroy.”

Daenerys held her son close after hearing this, but Richard only smiled. “If storms rise, then so must dragons. He is mine. He will endure.”

A Future Yet Unwritten

But for now, he remained the Quiet Prince, content to listen, learn, and wait for the day the world called upon him.

Chapter Eight – The Twin Jewels of the Empire

Princess Rhaenyra’s Stormlit Eyes

The seventh child of Emperor Richard and Empress Daenerys was named for her grandmother, Princess Rhaenyra Baratheon. Though her hair was the deep black of Storm’s End, her eyes burned with violet flame, marking her unmistakably as the daughter of the Storm Dragon and the Silver Queen.

Even in childhood, she possessed a commanding presence. Courtiers whispered she would one day rival her mother in beauty and her father in will. She often wandered the halls of the Imperial Palace of Rygoros, questioning tutors, pestering knights, and standing alongside her elder brothers when they practiced at arms.

“She is a storm dressed as a girl,” Richard said once, smiling as she argued fiercely with a court scribe over a miscopied chronicle.

Princess Alysanne’s Silver Light

Her twin, Princess Alysanne Baratheon, was a vision of old Valyria reborn. With silver hair that shimmered like starlight and violet eyes that gleamed with fire, she was seen by many as the living echo of queens past—Alysanne the Good, Rhaenys the Bold, Visenya the Fierce.

Gentler than her sister, Alysanne was nonetheless no less keen. She preferred music and lore to swords, but she also showed a gift for diplomacy even as a child, charming Free Folk envoys and Essosi merchants alike with her curiosity and grace.

If Rhaenyra was fire contained in storm, Alysanne was moonlight on still water, serene yet untouchable.

Twin Symbols of Unity

Together, the twins captured the imagination of the Empire. Bards called them the Twin Jewels of the Empire, living embodiments of its dual heritage: storm and flame, Baratheon and Targaryen, Westeros and Essos.

The people adored them, and already whispers arose that their futures might shape not only marriages but alliances across the known world. Whether ruling, healing, or binding nations through diplomacy, the twins were seen as the promise of the Empire’s tomorrow.

Richard and Daenerys, gazing upon their youngest daughters, saw in them not only the continuation of their dynasty but the proof that peace could bear beauty as surely as war bore scars.

Chapter Nine – The Children of Storm and Fire

The Feast of Rygoros

The Imperial Palace of Rygoros, jewel of the mountains, glowed with light. Golden banners of the sun blazed alongside the dragon sigils, while nobles, governors, generals, and emissaries from across Westeros and Essos filled the great hall. It was a night of celebration: the victory over the Long Night still fresh, the realm united, and the Emperor’s children standing together before the world.

At the center, on the Golden Throne of Westeros, sat Emperor Richard with Empress Daenerys at his side. Around them, their eight children—the Sons and Daughters of the Storm Dragon—stood as living proof of the dynasty’s power and promise.

The Heir and His Shadow

Prince Daemon, the Crown Prince, stood tall in black and gold armor, every inch a warrior and heir. He raised his cup to the gathered lords, speaking with confidence of unity and strength. Yet at his side, Princess Elaena, silver-haired and sharp-tongued, tempered his words with her wit, reminding all that rule was not only a matter of steel but of diplomacy.

Daemon carried the crown’s weight. Elaena softened its edges. Together, they formed a balance already admired by the court.

Dreamers and Storms

Prince Aegor, restless as ever, whispered of distant lands to Braavosi and Lyseni envoys, already plotting journeys beyond the known seas. Richard watched with a mixture of pride and concern; the boy’s heart belonged to horizons yet unseen.

Meanwhile, Prince Rhaegon, the fiery Storm Prince, marched through the hall in his golden armor, training sword at his hip. He boasted of drills, elephants, and sieges to the soldiers of the Order of the Golden Sun, earning cheers from veterans who adored his fire. His youth carried him, but his recklessness shone as bright as his courage.

The Quiet Heart and the Scholar

Princess Rhaella, gentle and kind, mingled with the smallfolk invited into the feast—an unusual decree of Richard’s, who wished his children to see the Empire not only through silk and steel. She sat among them, laughing, listening, her presence a balm that soothed even hardened soldiers.

Beside her, Prince Duncan (Duncarys) stood quiet, observing with storm-blue-violet eyes. He asked questions of maesters and scribes, measured every speech, and studied every gesture. His mind, Richard thought, was already sharper than steel.

The Twin Jewels

At last came the youngest twins, Princess Rhaenyra and Princess Alysanne. The elder of the two by minutes, Rhaenyra strode with the confidence of one born to command, her black hair flowing, her violet eyes flashing like stormlight. She tugged at Daemon’s arm and argued with Aegor, to the amusement of the court.

Alysanne, silver-haired and serene, moved like moonlight. Her quiet charm melted even the sternest lords, and she spoke kindly with envoys from the Free Folk and New Valyria, winning admiration wherever she turned.

The court looked upon the twins and saw symbols: the storm and the flame, the Baratheon and the Targaryen, bound together in one dynasty.

Richard’s Reflection

As the feast roared with music and laughter, Richard raised his hand for silence. His violet eyes swept the hall, resting on each of his children.

“Here stands the future of our Empire,” he declared, his voice echoing through the great hall. “Storm and dragon, steel and flame, heirs to the dawn we have forged together. As long as they endure, so too shall peace endure.”

The hall thundered with cheers: “Storm and Fire! Storm and Fire!”

And for the first time since the Long Night, Richard allowed himself a smile of peace. His children were not only heirs—they were the promise of a world remade.

Chapter Ten – The Next Storm

The Cousins’ Bond

The Imperial Palace of Rygoros rang with children’s laughter as much as it did with the voices of courtiers. Richard and Daenerys’s eight heirs were not alone in shaping the dawn of the Empire. Around them grew a wide circle of cousins — the children of Randall, Marianne, Rosalia, and Lucas. Together, they represented the unity of a house that now stretched from Storm’s End to Driftmark, from Bloodstone to Sunspear.

These children were raised not as rivals but as companions, each bound by blood to the other. And yet, the whispers of the court spoke of destiny in their veins. For each of them carried the weight of names, legacies, and thrones.

The Line of Storm’s End

Prince Randall Baratheon, now Lord Chancellor of the Empire and Governor of the Stormlands, raised his brood with discipline.

Daeron Baratheon, his eldest, heir to Storm’s End, inherited his father’s sharp mind and his mother Melissa’s calm restraint.
Daena Baratheon, graceful and proud, mirrored her cousin Elaena’s fire, already called the “Storm’s Rose.”
Alyssa Baratheon, gentler than her siblings, followed her cousin Rhaella in walking among the people.
Maegon Baratheon, bold and quick to anger, shadowed his cousin Rhaegon in seeking glory at arms.
Orys Baratheon, the youngest, bore the name of their legendary founder — and with it, whispers of a storm yet to come.

The Velaryons of Courtesy

From Princess Marianne and Prince Vaemond Velaryon came four children of sea and storm:

Aemond Velaryon, their heir, heir to Driftmark, carried the sea in his blood and the wisdom of his mother, Marianne.
Valaena Velaryon, proud and silver-haired, was called a beauty in the court of Rygoros.
Baelon Velaryon, daring, mirrored Aegor Baratheon’s wanderlust.
Malenia Velaryon, the youngest, charmed all who met her, her laughter ringing like bells.

They were raised between the waves of Driftmark and the halls of the Imperial Palace, embodying the bridge between the sea’s power and the Empire’s majesty.

The Assarions of Bloodstone

From Princess Rosalia and Prince Rhaemond Assarion came the heirs of the Isles:

Lucaerys Assarion, heir to Bloodstone, was proud, his Valyrian features striking, already walking in his father’s shadow as Dragonlord of the Isles.
Valerys Assarion, quieter, contemplative, seemed to carry more of Rosalia’s fiery discipline than Rhaemond’s commanding charm.
Baesella Assarion, their only daughter, was cherished by all, her laughter bringing warmth even to the cold halls of Bloodstone.

Though Rhaemond was no longer king but Prince of the Isles and Dragonlord of Bloodstone, his children remained heirs to a storied cadet branch of House Targaryen, now bound inextricably to the Baratheon dynasty.

The Martell-Baratheons of Sunspear

Lastly came the brood of Prince Lucas Baratheon and Princess Arianne Martell, binding Storm and Sun together:

Lucaegar Baratheon, heir to Sunspear, carried both Dornish pride and Baratheon storm, already spoken of as one who would lead with both fire and sand.
Daelora Baratheon, their eldest daughter, inherited her mother’s keen wit.
Nymeria Baratheon, named for the legendary warrior-queen, was bold even in youth, her dark eyes flashing with defiance.
Aemar Baratheon, the youngest, quiet but sharp, mirrored Duncan Baratheon’s thoughtful nature.

These children grew beneath the red sun of Dorne, yet were raised as much in Rygoros as in Sunspear — living bridges of culture and bloodline.

The Empire’s Future

Together, Richard’s children and his siblings’ children filled the halls of Rygoros with the thunder of youth. They sparred in the training yards, raced dragons and horses alike, whispered dreams in the gardens, and grew close in bonds of kinship.

Richard often looked upon them with pride. “These are the storms that will follow me,” he said once to Daenerys. “Not storms of war, but storms of renewal. Their bonds will be the strength of the Empire.”

For now, they were children. But one day, their names would echo across Westeros and Essos alike.

Chapter Eleven – The Festival of Unity

The Prosperity of New Valyria

While the Imperial West celebrated peace, the East too thrived. Mantarys, Tolos, and Elyria, once shadowed ruins of Valyria’s fall, now shone with new life under Prince Aegon Targaryen.

As Governor of New Valyria and Grand Governor of the Eastern Realm, Aegon restored the cities into centres of trade and learning. Markets brimmed with exotic wares, the forges of Mantarys hammered out steel and Valyrian glass, while Tolos became a port of unrivalled wealth. Elyria, long forgotten, grew into a city of scholars and artisans, its lore flowing westward to Rygoros.

From Braavos to New Valyria, the Eastern Realm flourished. Aegon was hailed not only as Daenerys’s nephew but as a ruler in his own right, forging a legacy that honored both his Targaryen blood and his loyalty to the Baratheon dynasty.

The Gathering at Rygoros

To honor this prosperity and the unity of the dynasty, Emperor Richard declared a Festival of Unity in Rygoros. From every corner of the Empire, banners came: lions, stags, dragons, suns, krakens, roses, and eagles, all gathered beneath the mountain city’s golden spires.

Most importantly, the children of the dynasty—the heirs of storm and fire, sea and sun—were brought together, a generation that would one day inherit the Empire’s mantle.

The Children of Richard and Daenerys

The eight Imperial heirs stood at the heart of the festival, dazzling the court:

Daemon, the Crown Prince, carried himself with noble weight.
Elaena, witty and radiant, danced words as deftly as knights danced lances.
Aegor, restless, spoke eagerly to Braavosi captains of distant seas.
Rhaella, kind and gentle, tended to children of the Free Folk present.
Rhaegon, brash, challenged his cousins to mock duels.
Duncan, calm, watched with stormlit-violet eyes, absorbing all.
Rhaenyra, fierce, already demanded to ride with knights.
Alysanne, serene, charmed nobles and commoners alike.

They were the living storm and fire, heirs of both realms.

The Cousins’ Arrival

Soon came the cousins, swelling the hall with even more youthful thunder:

Daeron, Daena, Alyssa, Maegon, and Orys Baratheon, heirs of Storm’s End, carried the disciplined poise of their father Randall.
Aemond, Valaena, Baelon, and Malenia Velaryon, heirs of Driftmark, brought with them the sea’s proud bearing.
Lucaerys, Valerys, and Baesella Assarion, children of Rosalia and Rhaemond, strode in with dragonlord confidence, silver hair gleaming.
Lucaegar, Daelora, Nymeria, and Aemar Baratheon, heirs of Sunspear, entered in Dornish silks, their eyes bright with the Martell fire.

The children, though of different branches, embraced as kin. Laughter and chatter filled the courts of Rygoros, and for a moment, the hall seemed less a palace of gold than a great hearth of family.

The Emperor’s Words

When the festival reached its height, Richard stood upon the dais of the Golden Throne, his violet eyes surveying the sea of kin and courtiers. Daenerys stood beside him, radiant as ever.

“Here is the true strength of our Empire,” Richard declared. “Not steel, nor dragons, nor walls, but blood united. Look upon my children and their cousins—storms, seas, suns, and dragons—all bound by one house, one Empire. This is our future. This is our dawn.”

The cheers shook the hall: “Storm and Fire! Storm and Fire!”

The Legacy of Unity

That night, as torches burned across Rygoros, the Empire saw not the divisions of houses but the unity of one family. The heirs of Richard and his siblings, bound together as cousins, were raised before the world not as rivals but as kin who would inherit the greatest realm the world had ever seen.

And in the East, Aegon Targaryen’s New Valyria blazed as proof that even lands long shattered could rise again under the Empire’s banner.

The golden age had begun.

Chapter Twelve – Heirs of the Storm, Shadows of the Sea

The Second Generation Steps Forward

In the wake of the Festival of Unity, Richard decreed that the cousins would not simply linger in the Imperial Palace. Each would begin to take their place in the vast machine of the Empire.

Daeron Baratheon, eldest son of Randall, was sent to Storm’s End to learn governance under his father’s guidance. Already he was called the Young Lord of Storm’s End, heir to the storm and the Baratheon honor.
Aemond Velaryon, firstborn of Marianne and Vaemond, took up training at Driftmark, learning the arts of seamanship, diplomacy, and naval command, preparing for his role as heir to the Prince of the Tide.
Lucaerys Assarion, heir to Bloodstone, began shadowing his father Rhaemond in the fortress citadel, drilled in the discipline of dragonriders and guardianship of the Isles.
Lucaegar Baratheon, heir to Sunspear, stood beside his mother Arianne in the courts of Dorne, learning to balance Dornish pride with Imperial unity.

These heirs, though young, were bound not by rivalry but by shared kinship, knowing the Empire’s future rested not in one house, but in all of them together.

The Unity of Cousins

At Rygoros, the cousins were often seen together, sparring in the training yards, debating in the court halls, and sharing laughter in the gardens. The bond they forged was more than family — it was the glue of an empire.

The elder generation — Richard, Daenerys, Randall, Marianne, Rosalia, Lucas — watched with cautious hope. Their unity, if it endured, would ensure the Empire’s golden peace. But all knew that peace was a fragile thing.

The Brewing Storm in the East

Even as the Empire flourished, whispers traveled across the Narrow Sea. Beyond the reach of Braavos and New Valyria, across the grass oceans of Essos, the Dothraki hordes stirred.

The Khals, long fractured, spoke of a single leader rising among them — one who promised to unite the khalasars into a tide of horse and steel. Already, scouts brought word of burning cities at the edges of the Dothraki Sea.

The Imperial Council debated in hushed tones. Was this new warlord a mere pretender, or a true threat to the Eastern Realm?

The Emperor’s Vigil

One night, Richard stood upon the high balcony of the Imperial Palace of Rygoros, his violet eyes fixed eastward. Beside him stood Daenerys, her silver hair lit by torchlight, her gaze steady.

“We have tamed dragons and firewyrms, slain the Night King, broken the chains of old feuds,” Richard said softly. “But peace is always the shadow of war. The plains whisper of blood yet to come.”

Daenerys placed her hand over his. “Then we shall face it, together, as we always have. And when the time comes, our children and their cousins will stand with us. That is the strength of storm and fire.”

Richard nodded, the winds of the Vale cold against his hair. He knew the dawn they had built was bright — but already, in the east, storm clouds gathered over the sea of grass.