Prince Aegon extended his hand firmly. "I can accept any price, as long as this mission does not damage the interests of the realm or my house. Whatever it takes."
"Whatever it takes?" Rey rubbed his chin with a hint of amusement. Shadowmare circled the top of the tower and seemed equally curious, lowering its massive, rugged head.
Aegon swallowed awkwardly and withdrew his hand. "Perhaps… you could just tell me the name of that drug. I'll ask someone in Lys to make it."
"Moon Sugar." Rey didn't hold back. When it came to dragons, he didn't want Braavos gaining control over them either. The power they already held was terrifying enough. When Braavos finally unveiled her alluring, mysterious veil after centuries of secrecy during the days of the Valyrian Freehold, the whole world was shocked. Even the Freehold, known for its arrogance, restrained its usual domineering ways in the face of Braavos's submission and unique position. They didn't immediately send dragons to punish this rebellious "daughter"—or should it be "slave"? Perhaps due to internal strife within the Freehold, once Braavos offered what it claimed was ransom for its escaped slaves, Valyria no longer concerned itself with the "Hidden City." In fact, it even allowed its colonial city-states to trade with Braavos.
In doing so, they inadvertently fattened this young free trade city. And when the Freehold collapsed, Braavos swiftly rose to become one of the most powerful and prosperous of the Nine Free Cities.
After the Century of Blood, perhaps "one of" could be dropped altogether.
Braavos's attitude toward dragons was strange. On one hand, they feared them—perhaps due to long-buried terrors. On the other, they craved them, not unlike the Tiger Lords of Volantis. From the Faceless Men aiding in the killing of dragonlords in the aftermath of the Doom, to the Sea Lord daring to buy dragon eggs at the risk of his city being reduced to ash, it was clear Braavos's hatred for dragons was not as absolute as it appeared.
Rey rather appreciated the clarity Prince Aegon displayed at such a time.
"Thank you. I will not fail in my duty."
Aegon bowed slightly to Rey, then decisively mounted Syrax. He could not avoid Braavos—that was his mission. Nor could he burn the city down.
He knew he didn't have the power. Syrax might already be a mighty beast, but it alone could not contend with one of the most powerful cities in the world. Aegon wasn't a fool; he understood that the wealthy Free Cities were not just wealthy. Braavos almost certainly retained weapons capable of slaying dragons. Even a beast like Syrax, in its prime, might not emerge unscathed.
So there was only one path forward.
"Is this why you came to me regardless of the cost?" Lysandro Rogare looked upon his grandson with effort, but also with satisfaction. The Rogare family's investment had clearly paid off. His good daughter's three sons were all dragonriders, each mounting fully grown dragons.
Though the Rogare family was currently facing a crushing alliance between the Iron Bank and opposition factions in Lys, Lysandro showed no trace of panic.
Because if he so chose, the Rogares could swear fealty to Westeros entirely, becoming an overseas vassal. With that, the two royal dragon houses could justify torching Rogare enemies under the guise of defending their own territory.
So Lysandro was not worried at all.
Prince Aegon was soaked to the bone. He had flown almost without rest across the Narrow Sea on Syrax, landing at House Rogare's palace just as the sun began to rise.
Even though the household had seen dragons before, Syrax's sudden descent still startled the servants. They scrambled for some time before finally bringing Prince Aegon inside and rousing the old lord from sleep.
"That's right," Aegon sighed. "Braavos's courtesans are renowned across the world. I won't risk spreading dragonseed."
Lysandro understood the gravity of the matter well. The Rogares were now tied to Viserys's line. The better Aegon performed, the greater the Rogares stood to gain.
This was something every Rogare knew. Lysandro was no exception.
"Do you know what Moon Sugar is?" Lysandro asked gravely. The Lyseni were masters of poison; every noble or merchant family in Lys kept at least one skilled poisoner in their household. Their concoctions flowed through the shadows, through the darkest corners of the world.
The Rogare family's apothecary approached cautiously with a tightly sealed glass vial. Lysandro took it and examined it. "Who told you that Moon Sugar could kill your seed and keep it from spreading?"
"I only heard Prince Rey mention the name," Aegon replied, standing tall as if preparing to march to his death.
"Prince Rey, hmm?" Lysandro grew solemn at the mention. "That explains it… That explains it."
"Hmm?" Aegon gave his grandfather a puzzled look.
"No wonder he knows such a poison," Lysandro sighed. "You know about Moon Tea, don't you? The Westerosi medicine."
Aegon nodded. Of course he did. That bitter tea was well-known among women, used to quietly kill unborn children. It was also said to prevent conception if taken early enough.
He had given it to more than a few girls himself.
"Moon Tea uses Moon Sugar as one of its primary ingredients," Lysandro explained. "Moon Sugar is far more potent—leagues more dangerous. But it's also highly effective. With the right dosage, it can kill only the seed produced in the last few days, without harming future fertility. But there are risks. Too little, and it might wear off too soon. Too much, and you might never father a child again."
Lysandro stared calmly at Aegon, as if asking, Are you sure?
"This drug is used in Lys to create boys who never need to be cut, who grow up without beards, indistinguishable from eunuchs or girls."
Aegon shivered.
"But the dosage is difficult to control. No one knows if the amount that works for one man will cause different effects in another."
Lysandro handed the glass vial to Aegon. "This is the amount. How much you take is up to you."
Aegon hesitated for a moment, then took the vial. "I understand, Grandfather."