After taking a moment to catch our breath and patch up poor Hobb, we all gathered around the spot we believed the treasure was buried. Hobb's left arm was bruised and swollen, but he waved us off with a grunt and a half-smile, sitting against a tree while Gael helped bind his wrist with cloth torn from one of our spare tunics.
I looked around at the group—mud-covered, tired, still buzzing from the fight—and said, "Let's dig it."
We only had one proper shovel with us, a short-handled one I'd had made for emergencies. Todric and Rolly took turns digging, while I handled clearing out the loose soil they kicked up. Daemon was pacing nearby, keeping an eye out for danger with Zalrazar watching silently from a distance. Rhaenyra, of course, insisted she help, though her idea of "help" was pointing out roots and cheering every time we hit a rock.
After what felt like forever—and at least eight feet of hard-packed earth—we finally struck something solid.
CLANK.
We froze.
Then the digging picked up again, faster now, excitement overriding exhaustion. Bit by bit, we unearthed what looked like a chest—old, rusted, wrapped in half-decayed iron chains. With a few more pulls, we got it free, only to spot another box buried deeper beneath it.
Three hours and a lot of cursing later, we had pulled out a total of four chests. The boys were covered in dirt, breathing heavy, but their eyes were gleaming with anticipation.
We cracked the rusted chains open with a rock and pried the lid off the first chest.
It was filled to the brim with gold and silver coins, old and freshly dull, but still glittering in the sunlight. The sheer volume made Rhaenyra let out an audible "Ooooh", her mouth hanging open in awe.
Tucked inside were two folded letters, sealed with wax. I quickly pocketed them without a word.
The second chest was more of the same—gold and silver, though this time the gold outweighed the silver. Even Daemon raised an eyebrow.
We popped open the third chest, and that's when things shifted.
Inside lay solid bars of Valyrian steel, dark and shimmering like liquid shadow, packed alongside gold and a gem the size of a goose egg—a deep crimson, almost glowing. My hands went cold. My breath hitched.
The last chest wasn't any less strange. Inside was a skull, surrounded by carefully arranged jade stones and colored gems, like some sort of funerary offering.
I stood there in silence, trying to process it. Gold and silver were expected—but this? Valyrian steel? A skull? This wasn't just loot. This was old.
I looked at Gael, then Daemon. Both of them had serious expressions, the kind you don't see often. When my eyes met theirs, I gave a small smirk. Nervous, maybe, but I didn't want to show it.
"This isn't just treasure," Daemon muttered. "This could be a legacy. Maybe even the vault of an extinct house."
"I don't know if you'll be able to keep it," Gael added, her brow furrowed. "If your father hears of this..."
"He gave me his word. If I found treasure, it'd be mine to keep," I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt.
"Then we should head back to King's Landing. It's already past midday," said Daemon, standing up and brushing off his hands.
"Brother," Rhaenyra chirped, "can I keep some of the green stones? The ones that sparkle?"
"Those are jade—rare in Westeros. But yeah, you can have some," I replied.
She grinned at me, clearly imagining how she'd show them off in court.
The chests were too heavy to carry by hand, so we called the dragons. Dreamfrey bore the bulk of the gold and silver, Caraxes took one chest, and Zalrazar was loaded with the Valyrian steel and jewels. He didn't seem to mind the weight.
We took to the skies and reached King's Landing by early evening. The roar of the dragons announced our arrival.
When we landed at the Dragonpit, the Kingsguard was already waiting.
"Welcome back, my prince. Princess," said Ser Harrold Westerling, now Lord Commander. "The queen was quite worried."
"I see. But before I return to my chambers, can you inform my father and the Small Council that I have something important to discuss?" I asked. "Also, tell the dragonkeepers to unload the chests. Todric, Rolly—make sure no one touches a coin without my permission."
"Yes, my prince," they replied.
I went straight to my chambers, took a long, much-needed bath, then dressed quickly. My legs were dead, my arms sore, but I had to focus.
Time to spin.
Small Council Chamber
Four chests now sat atop the council table, gleaming in the candlelight. The hall smelled faintly of damp leather, sweat, and coins that hadn't seen daylight in centuries.
Apparently, Rhaenyra had already gone around flashing her new jade pendant to every handmaid in the Red Keep. Otto, naturally, caught wind of it fast. And here we were.
"Who gave the order to bring these here?" I asked coldly, without looking at anyone in particular. Todric and Rolly stood in the corner, heads bowed, about to speak—when my father interrupted.
"It was me, Aemon. I know it wasn't proper, but the importance of what you found... it couldn't be ignored."
"It's a matter of principle," I replied, arms crossed. "I wasn't going to hide it. I even asked Ser Harrold to arrange a formal audience with the council."
"I know. But what you found... it's not just gold. Valyrian steel, ancient relics—things that could shake political foundations. I had to act quickly. Where would you have kept it, otherwise?" he argued.
I sighed. "Fair point. Still, don't give orders to my men again."
"Understood."
"So. You've had time to look through it, I assume?" I asked, glancing at the chests.
"Yes. Altogether, it's worth at least fifty thousand gold dragons—maybe more, if we include the jade and gems. But Valyrian steel? That's... priceless," he said.
"I want all the gold and silver. I'll keep some of the jewels, sell the rest. The lords present are welcome to make offers," I said, casually eyeing the council.
Otto leaned forward. "My prince, that map—you said you found it in the Citadel, correct?"
"Yes. I also know how old it is."
"Well, any treasure marked on Citadel-held maps is usually meant to be passed down to a house's descendants. That's how their archive system works."
"Then let them come claim it," I said. "Tell the realm I've found their treasure. I'll personally return it—riding Zalrazar."
Daemon chuckled, enjoying the whole exchange. "Didn't you say everything belongs to the king and his descendants?"
"Exactly," I grinned. "So let the king's descendants do as they wish."
"Very well. But this much wealth... no father would let his nine-nameday-old son handle it unchecked. And don't bring up the previous thirty thousand—I knew where that was going. This time, I don't." said father.
"Father, come on. A man has his secrets. But I won't waste it. You have my word," I said. "Now... can we eat? I'm starving." I said while leaving , no interest in arguing .