Chapter 43.5- The Seadragon's Roar

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“Oh Parvella, you have outdone yourself” I said as I looked at the scale model. It was perfectly in line with my drawings. Well, not my drawings in truth. My copy of the drawings I’d been able to procure from a certain resourceful Bravoosi. The alliance with the Sealord was producing dividends I hadn’t been able to even foresee. The man was resourceful in a way few could imagine, and even fewer could match.

Braavos was the trade capital of the world, and if there was something to be found, it would be found there. So a complete map of Valyria— not just the city like what most had, but the entirety of the empire itself wasn’t too surprising a find. My shock had come from the speed at which he had been able to procure it. A casual mention in the middle of conversation, and the next time the Sealord’s representative had made port had Bloodstone, the drawings had been underarm. Given as a gift, not even as a trade.

Guess it was a good thing that I didn’t burn the arsenal for the crime of selling ships to the Triarchy like Laena would have preferred. Because it meant we had started off our relationship with the Sealord wanting to compensate for picking the wrong side in the war, and his compensation had proven to be nothing short of…generous.

The base of the scale model was made with cement, cast into varying shapes to match the islands themselves. The scale model buildings were made cement as well for the most part. Where it was possible to cast them with cement we did, and we used wood or other materials where it was not. It was a beautiful thing. And even more importantly, it was significant. It was the kind of gift that I hoped Viserys would not be forgetting about for a long long time.

I’d need that goodwill for when I fucked up marrying his daughter at the very least. With that gift secured, it was now time for the last two. For young Aemond, the choice had been simple. A crib. What else did babies need? And since I knew that basically everyone and their mother would be getting one for the new prince, it was my duty to make sure mine was the chosen one. How? Carvings of dragons, of course. Every Targaryen bar one was obsessed with them— and Aegon the Dragonbane had a lot fucked up about him so even mentioning him here felt unfair to some extent. And beyond the carvings, I’d gone to great extent to secure the same ebony and summer island bloodwood combination to make his crib an enchanting mix of black and red.

It was easily the most beautiful crib I’d ever laid my eyes on, and everyone I asked for their opinion said the same. For the other members of the royal family, the gifts were more… standard.

For the young Prince Aegon, a wooden training sword made of ebony for his sword practice, and a young palfrey bred from Yronwood’s stock— Dornish sandsteeds were known for their endurance and surefootedness, and for the Queen, well the answer was jewelery. An expensive necklace adorned with so many emeralds that it gave off an enchanting green glow in whatever room it was placed in. And then matched that with a pair of earrings. I had strong hopes that no one would beat me when it came to gifts for the royal family.