Game of Thrones: Second Son of House Targaryen

Chapter 250: Long Live Emperor Viserys!

The throne room was still under renovation, so Viserys convened his advisers in the hall of the Kambron estate. As a former Archon and avid gardener, Kambron had decorated his hall with carpets and curtains in every shade of green. Connington had suggested sprucing up the room, but Viserys, mindful of expenses, decided against it. Instead, he simply had a table placed in the hall for himself and hung a few Three-Headed Dragon banners on the walls. Chairs were arranged five or six meters away from Viserys for the attendees.

Gathered in the hall were members of the Dragon Party, nobles from the Free Cities, Tyroshi officials and officers, as well as the recently absorbed officers of the Golden Company. For security, several mansions around Kambron’s estate—formerly owned by Kambron’s henchmen, who had since been removed—were cordoned off. Nearly 2,000 guards were stationed outside to defend the area.

“Your Grace, if you wish to retake the Iron Throne, Volantis can provide 300 warships!” Alios declared. Though he hadn’t secured the naming rights to a dragon, Viserys had sold him and Nyessos a pair of Valyrian steel armor for 100,000 gold dragons each. When they learned that Valyrian steel was immune to magical attacks, they didn’t hesitate to purchase it.

Roth, eager not to be outdone, quickly offered his support. “Prince Viserys, Braavos can also provide at least 200 warships, as well as 500 merchant ships to transport your soldiers.”

Braavos, with its advanced shipbuilding industry, boasted that they could build a ship a day.

“Thank you, Triarchs, and thank you, Lord Roth,” Viserys replied with a smile.

“Norvos can contribute 3,000 warriors!” Mellario added, though she wasn’t necessarily in a position to make the final decision. But in the current political climate, aligning with Lys and securing the friendship of the Dragonlord was paramount. The bearded priests of Norvos were unlikely to object.

Qohor and Lorath soon voiced their support as well. Just these five major Free Cities alone were ready to assemble an army of over 30,000 troops for Viserys. Even though his dragons had not yet reached their full size, their potential value was undeniable, driving everyone to invest in him eagerly.

Thanks to Connington’s efforts, Viserys had also seamlessly absorbed and taken command of the entire Golden Company. Even after weeding out the less reliable elements, the Golden Company still boasted 7,000 elite troops. Combined with the forces of the Kingdom of the Four Daughters and the Dothraki prisoners, who could be reintegrated into the army after some reformation, Viserys could easily muster an army of 100,000 men within six months.

And this was just the army from the Free Cities. If you added the armies of Dorne and The Reach, the total could easily swell to 200,000 men.

Sitting lightly next to Viserys, Dany suddenly recalled something he had once told her: "Fair-weather friends are plenty, but true friends are few." Though Dany had never seen snow, she now fully grasped the meaning of those words.

“Honestly, what’s the point of fighting?” Regis whispered to some of the officers. “If I were Robert, I’d just come running and kneel at the Prince’s feet.”

Most of those around him agreed. After all, how formidable could the alliance of the 'stag, wolf, falcon, and fish' really be? The Westerlands were wealthy, but could they possibly rival Viserys? Could they outmatch the combined wealth of all the Free Cities?

Soon, the entire Dothraki Sea would be under his control. As a trading hub, Vaes Dothrak would generate enormous tax revenues by year’s end. The situation made many feel that victory was within easy reach—especially with the seven young dragons growing stronger by the day.

Viserys, however, did not allow this confidence to make him rash or overzealous. “Once again, I thank you all for your support,” he said calmly. “The Targaryens will not forget your friendship. But I have no plans to launch a large-scale attack on Westeros within the year.”

This decision was met with approval by most, except for a few officers eager for glory. After all, King’s Landing and the Iron Throne weren’t going anywhere. Meanwhile, Viserys’s strength was growing steadily. At just seventeen or eighteen years old, he knew it wasn’t wise to rush into war. Time was on his side.

Simply spreading rumors of a counterattack on Westeros would be enough to put pressure on Robert and Ned Stark. Viserys understood that it was time to show his strength but not act prematurely. This psychological warfare could unsettle his enemies—perhaps even preventing Cersei from moving against Robert or Littlefinger from pursuing his ambitions. The Starks and Lannisters might avoid conflict, and the power struggle between Stannis and Renly might never materialize.

If he attacked now, Viserys would face a united front. Even if he emerged victorious, it would likely come at a significant cost. Instead, he planned to let the alliance crumble from within.

Though Viserys had no immediate plans to invade Westeros, his supporters, like Roth, knew they still needed to prepare. As Roth was carefully considering how to persuade Viserys, Alios suddenly leaped to his feet, his chair clattering to the ground with a loud thump. The guards flanking Viserys, startled, instinctively reached for their swords, fearing an assassination attempt.

“Become the Emperor of the Valyria! Your Grace Viserys! No—Your Majesty Viserys!” Alios exclaimed with fervor. Though his words were rough, his intentions were clear and sincere. As a seasoned politician, Alios’s performance was flawless.

For a moment, Viserys was taken aback, his expression unreadable. This had not been part of his plan. Yet, as Alios finished speaking, he dropped to one knee and prepared to swear his allegiance.

“Emperor Viserys! Long live the Emperor!”

For a moment, the hall fell into a stunned silence. Not a single sound could be heard except for the faint whisper of the wind outside. The stillness was so complete that even the distant calls of birds and wild cats, likely stirred by the nearby young dragons, seemed amplified.

The members of the Dragon Party were momentarily frozen, processing the weight of what had just been said. But then, as the realization hit them, they felt a pang of shame. How could they have let someone else speak first? How had they not been the ones to proclaim his title?

Regret washed over them, but they managed to keep their composure. Connington, ever the loyal strategist, knew this was the moment to officially crown Viserys with his rightful title.

After taking Tyrosh, Viserys had only assumed the title of Regent to avoid drawing Robert’s attention. There had been no coronation, no formal declaration of his true power. But now, with the Free Cities and the Seven Kingdoms within his reach, the title of Emperor was not only appropriate—it was necessary.

Connington drew his sword, the blade ringing with a clear, resolute sound. He knelt on one knee and declared, “House Connington has always served and followed the true Dragonlords. This loyalty has never wavered through the centuries. The Dragonlords has returned, and the usurper will be reduced to ashes!”

With that, he performed the traditional act of submission, placing his sword at Viserys’s feet, hilt toward the Viserys, point toward himself, and with his right hand clenched over his heart.

“Emperor Viserys! Long live the Emperor!”

His son, Young Connington, quickly followed suit. Drawing his own sword, he knelt beside his father, mirroring his every move. “Emperor Viserys! Long live the Emperor!”

A wave of motion swept through the hall as swords were drawn in unison, the metallic clatter echoing like a surge of electricity through the room.

Connington, Young Connington, Feles, Hoyt, Jorah, Dickon, Conwyra, Caggo... Roth, Nyessos, Alios, Mellario...

Dozens of high-ranking officers and officials fell to their knees, voices rising together in a chorus of allegiance:

“Emperor Viserys! Long live the Emperor!”

“Emperor Viserys! Long live the Emperor!”

“Long live Emperor Viserys!”

Viserys, standing tall amidst the fervor, chose to accept the title.

It was only a matter of time before the banner of the three-headed dragon would fly over every city-state. The Targaryen name had once again become the most powerful and valuable in the world. However, this impromptu “coronation” had been somewhat hasty. Representatives from the other city-states would need to return home and spread the news.

Fortunately, these were all influential figures, and there was no doubt about their recognition of Viserys as emperor. The next step was to hammer out the details—questions like how much tax should be paid to the emperor, the division of obligations and responsibilities between Viserys and the major Free Cities, and the structure of his rule over the Nine Free Cities.

Take slavery, for example. On the surface, Braavos and Pentos officially condone slavery, while Lorath is too small and poor to be of significant concern. Viserys himself is opposed to slavery, and even in the Land of Hope, more and more slaves are being legally transformed into free men. But powerful Volantis is a staunch proponent of slavery, largely because Valyria relied on it so heavily, and their economy is deeply rooted in it. Norvos and Qohor also depend on slavery.

If Viserys were to rush into reforming slavery, he would undoubtedly face resistance. Moreover, since he plans to plunder Slaver's Bay himself, the masters there would be wary of dealing with someone openly hostile to slavery.

The most pressing issue is that Viserys currently lacks the reliable officials needed to implement his own system of governance. Ideally, he would want to jump straight to a more centralized system, such as a county system or even a more structured imperial bureaucracy. But for now, the best course of action is patience. When he has consolidated enough power, he can then introduce whatever systems he prefers—be it an imperial examination system, a county system, or a vassalage system.

For now, however, despite his title as emperor, he lacks the established classes and bureaucrats necessary to fully exercise his authority. Building his own bureaucracy will be a long and gradual process, involving the creation of schools, the dissemination of knowledge, and the cultivation of loyal officials. This cannot be achieved overnight. Time is what he needs most.

So, for the moment, Viserys can only implement a relatively loose form of rule.

After dismissing the nobles of the Free Cities, Viserys turned his attention to Westeros. By now, Robert and Ned should have arrived in King's Landing, and the tournament Robert organized for his dear brother should be underway. Viserys couldn’t help but wonder how they would react upon hearing that he had declared himself emperor—and hatched dragons.

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