Daemon's funeral was a simple affair.
Draezell and Aegon gathered his ashes and solemnly placed them in the Targaryen family crypt. There were no nobles in attendance, no ceremonies like those of old—only his children bidding their father farewell and Caraxes mourning in his own way.
It was exactly as he had wished. His own words had been: "I have lived a life full of glory, born in blood, and now I die in fire. I have no regrets. You need not shed tears for the passing of a warrior."
Joffrey had returned from Driftmark, where he had been restoring the Velaryon fleet. Five years after the war, the impulsive yet shy boy had grown into a tall and steadfast man. The rise of House Vaelarys had caused House Velaryon to lose much of its trade routes—after all, the wealthier ports of Brandyport and Silvercrown were far more attractive to Essosi merchants than Spice Town and Gulltown. The wealth of the Velaryon continued to dwindle, but Joffrey managed to stabilize the situation.
In truth, he had done little beyond signing an agreement with Sebastian Pyrebane, allowing ships bearing the Seahorse banner to sail alongside those under the silver dragon and laurel sails. By sharing in the profits, he had at least slowed House Velaryon's decline.
Even so, Joffrey was burdened with worry for his house. When he received news of his stepfather's death, the brown-haired youth stood frozen for a long time before dashing out of the Hall of Nine in a frenzy, mounting Tyraxes and flying back to King's Landing.
Far away in Lys, Baela also rushed back on Moondancer. The restless "Dowager Queen" had always resisted a life of ease, spending far less time in King's Landing than she did soaring through the skies. She had been seen in the Borderlands, trading horse meat and live sheep with the khalasars of the Dothraki. By the time Rhey and Rhaena rode their dragons in search of her, she had vanished once more.
In the Westerlands, miners had glimpsed a dragon crowned with spines soaring through the mountains. Soon after, the bards of the region began singing tales of the Dowager Queen hunting man-eating lions for Westerland hunters. Merchants traveling through the Neck had spotted her wandering the mist-laden swamps, seemingly in search of the floating fortress of the crannogmen. When Lord Cregan Stark and Lady Alysanne received a raven reporting a dragon sighting over the Wolfswood, they set out at once—only to find nothing.
Baela longed to see the legendary giants. She stopped briefly at Last Hearth, helping Lord Umber melt the ice that had blocked the roads. She understood the hardships of the North and refused his hospitality, instead continuing her journey to Castle Black. There, she encountered Jason Lannister—once Lord of Casterly Rock, now Lord Commander of the Night's Watch. His wife, Lady Johanna, had sent him gold, but he had exchanged it all for supplies. It was thanks to these provisions that the Watch survived the harshest cold of the year 132 AC, when seven months of relentless snowfall nearly buried the Wall. Rangers could not ride out, supply ships from Eastwatch could not land, and the Night's Watch—swollen to over four thousand men after the Dance of the Dragons—might have lost many to hunger and cold had it not been for the resources sent by the Western lords.
Baela's arrival unsettled the men of the Watch. During the war, they had stood against this young Dowager Queen, but she paid them no mind. She cleared the roads of snow atop her dragon, bartered with aging rangers for trinkets from beyond the Wall, and spoke of flying farther north. However, Moondancer refused to cross the Wall, and so Baela had no choice but to turn back and disappear once more.
Daemon had once sent men to search for her, but all they ever returned with were vague reports. The most recent placed her in Lys, where she had accepted a great sum of gold from Lysandro Rogare, using Moondancer's flames to burn down rebels attempting to overthrow House Rogare. With that gold, she had even founded a sellsword company named the Unburnt Princess, eager to experience the life of a mercenary captain.
But when news of Daemon's death reached her, Baela immediately abandoned her sellsword dreams and flew back to King's Landing.
The gathering of Daemon's children lasted only three days before they dispersed once more. Daemon was gone, but the realm still needed governance. The Small Council continued to function, with Lothor Rogare of Lys finally taking up the long-vacant position of Master of Whisperers. He now worked alongside Tyland, Bartimos, and the new Master of Laws, Lord Forrest Frey, to maintain order in the capital.
Aegon returned to Dragon's Nest with Draezell to continue his education in rulership.
Dragon's Nest, Twin Tower
In Rhaena and Rhae's chambers.
Originally, this room had belonged to Rey alone, and it had been cluttered with books. But ever since Rhaena moved in, it had become far tidier, with every book neatly arranged on the shelves according to carefully labeled categories. However, many of the books were written in scripts that Rhaena could not read, so she had no choice but to organize them based on the index Rey had given her. Even now, she still had no idea what language some of them were in.
"Sister, next time, use the door."
Rhaena stared at the large floor-to-ceiling window, her face caught between exasperation and disbelief. Baela had leapt effortlessly from Moondancer's back onto the terrace and stepped into her sister's room in a single stride.
"Can't let that brat Rhaegor catch me." Baela let out a long sigh. To avoid him, she had deliberately avoided the Dragonpit and the towers where the children often played. Moondancer had landed lightly on the railing of the terrace, hanging there like a great bat. The dragon, too, had no desire to enter the Dragonpit, wary of it as another dragon's domain—a dangerous place indeed.
"You're avoiding him for what reason?" Rhaena closed the book in her hands, looking puzzled. "Isn't Uncle Draezell very supportive of you?"
"Uncle Draezell is supportive, sigh..." Baela pursed her lips. "But that bratling Rhaegor keeps thinking that me roaming around everywhere is irresponsible. So, every time I come to Dragon's Nest, if he catches me, he'll go straight to Uncle, and then we waste precious time. Anyway, Rhaena, let's get to business—did you find what I asked for?"
Rhaena eyed her sister warily but still pulled out the hefty tomes that Baela had asked her to copy from the Great Library of Laurel Tower. "I'm warning you—these books are all recorded in Raey's logs. They will definitely know you took them."
"It's fine, it's fine. I left a letter for Uncle Draezell. He knows about this." Baela eagerly flipped through the volumes: A Geographic Record of the Eastern Shores of the Narrow Sea, The Disputed Lands: The Travels of Hasan Lo Sathor, Voyages Across the Summer Sea, An Expedition into Sothoryos, The Basilisk Isles: Lands of Blood, and The Chronicles of Kings: A History of the Bone Mountains.
"Wait... one is missing." Baela hesitated. There had been another book on her list—
Draezell's Journey into the Dead Lands.
Bards sang of Draezell having ventured into the ruins of lost Valyria, where he supposedly gained the power of his ancestors and a mighty dragon. Upon his return, he was said to have written an account of his journey to guide his descendants in their own explorations.
"There is no such book," Rhaena shook her head. "That's something the bards made up. Think about it—knowing Uncle's temperament, would he really leave behind something so... sensitive?"
"He wouldn't." Baela had little hope of ever obtaining that book anyway. Once she accepted that, she quickly stuffed the books into the satchel at her waist.
"Thanks, I need to go now."
"Sister, I know I may not be the right person to say this." Rhaena watched as Baela swung herself over the balcony and climbed back onto her dragon's back. After a pause, she spoke firmly, "I understand your dream of exploring for House Targaryen's sake, but you still have Moondancer. What happens to her?"
"Don't worry, I won't let a Targaryen dragon become lost in some foreign land." Baela grinned. "I've already given Moondancer my command—if I were to find eternal rest in a faraway place, she must return to her home, to Dragonstone, no matter what."
She waved.
"Be well, my dear sister. Wish me a peaceful slumber at the edge of the world. And tell Uncle Draezell—I'll write a travelogue for him, so be sure to collect it."
Atop the round, domed courtyard of the Silverblood Tower, Draezell watched as Moondancer took flight and sighed.
"Beloved, what's wrong? Is it about Baela?" Diana sat beside Seryna, playing with their daughter's wooden blocks. Hearing her husband's sigh, she looked up.
"It is." Draezell exhaled deeply. "Baela... may your wish come true."
High above in the vast sky—
Moondancer pierced through the clouds, Baela gripping the dragon saddle's handrail as she laughed wildly. Yet, after a while, tears shimmered in her eyes.
"Jae, I have walked the rivers and mountains of Westeros. Now, I will keep flying, all the way to the world's end." She lifted her head, listening quietly to the wind. "To see the world beyond, with you."
The wind howled past.
Only the cry of Moondancer and the laughter of the young Dowager Queen remained.
From that day forth, no one ever saw Baela Targaryen again.