Chapter 247: King’s Landing’s Plan of Reconstruction |
The table was laden with beef stew, roast lamb, cream cake, and a bottle of red wine with the cork pulled.
Rhaegar's appetite was immense. He grabbed a piece of beef and muttered, "Father, you eat so well this early in the morning?"
"I am a king, after all," Viserys said with a smile, taking a sip of wine. "With the burdens I carry, it is a small pleasure to indulge in good food."
He patted his rounded belly, a testament to his indulgence.
"You have a point," Rhaegar agreed, taking a large bite of food. Being king did have its perks, though he worried about his father's health with such a rich diet.
As they ate, father and son chatted, enjoying their little gathering. Halfway through the meal, Rhaegar pulled out a list and handed it to his father, who had just finished his wine.
"What's this?" Viserys leaned back in his chair and took the list.
"It's my plan for improving King's Landing," Rhaegar explained.
Intrigued, Viserys read the list:
2. Repair and excavate King's Landing's sewers to facilitate proper sewage disposal.
3. Expand areas, repair public toilets, and hire septic workers and septic carts.
4. Organize Flea Bottom, take in a group of orphans, women, and children, and organize laborers for construction work.
5. Select land in the Crownlands and organize the poor to cultivate it, providing royal subsidies and tax relief.
Viserys frowned at the first three items, his expression complicated. "Rhaegar, your plan is ambitious. Otto has been trying to clean up the streets of King's Landing, but his efforts have been ineffective and have drawn criticism from the common folk."
"And last night a wagonload of filth was thrown at him," Viserys added, grimacing at the memory.
Rhaegar had anticipated his father's concern. "The key is sewers and public toilets. If we provide convenient facilities, people won't have to dump their waste in the streets."
The concept of public toilets was foreign to Viserys. Rhaegar continued, "Public toilets were an idea I saw in a dream. They fit our needs perfectly."
Much of Otto's failure stemmed from banning open defecation without providing an alternative. Building public toilets and hiring waste collectors would solve the problem. Though it seemed simple, it was a revolutionary proposal.
Viserys considered it carefully. With public toilets, people would have a proper place to dispose of their waste. Anyone caught defecating in the streets could then be properly punished.
"There's only one thing," Viserys thought.
Viserys hesitated. "Repairing the sewers, public toilets, and hiring workers will cost a considerable amount of money."
King's Landing had sewers, but they had long been neglected and were mostly clogged. Repairing the public toilets required funds for materials and labor. Hiring septic tank emptyers and haulers would further drain the treasury.
Rhaegar pointed to the remaining two suggestions, his tone thoughtful. "We could hire laborers from Flea Bottom to do the work in exchange for food."
People were dying of starvation and exposure every day in King's Landing. This food-for-work approach would save money and help the refugees-a win-win.
Viserys pondered. His eyes fell on the last suggestion, and he instinctively bristled. "Dividing the king's uncultivated land among the refugees..."
"I don't mean give it away," Rhaegar clarified. "We'd hire them to farm it. The Crown would provide tools and food, and the refugees would become tenants directly under the Crown, paying annual taxes."
This proposal wasn't far from the typical lord-and-peasant relationship. The Crownlands had plenty of wasteland and the Kingswood held untapped resources. Instead of letting it sit idle, turning it into productive farmland could stabilize tax revenue and eventually fill the royal coffers. Most importantly, it would alleviate overcrowding in King's Landing.
Viserys fell into deep thought, weighing the feasibility of the five plans. The War for the Stepstones had drained resources, and the construction of the Prince's Palace was another financial drain. Adding sewer repairs, the construction of public toilets, and land reclamation would further drain the treasury, even if it was currently full.
Rhaegar didn't press the issue. He finished his meal and left the palace quietly. His father was the king, and it was his decision to implement the new policies or not. Rhaegar offered his ideas without insisting. The Iron Throne would be his eventually, and he could implement the new policies then.
For now, his priority was to repair Harrenhal and build the Dragon’s Nest.
...
Dawn.
Viserys emerged from his thoughts, feeling dazed and confused. He scanned the table; the servants had already cleared away the remains. At some point, Rhaegar had quietly left.
"Erryk," Viserys called, rubbing his tingling legs as he stood.
Creak...
The door opened and Erryk stood at attention. "Your Grace, what is your command?"
Viserys folded the list and combed his hair with his fingers, speaking calmly. "Go to the dungeon. I want to see that white-eyed wolf."
"Yes, Your Grace," Erryk replied, his face impassive as he respectfully stepped aside to make way.
Since Cole had been removed from his position as commander of the Kingsguard, Erryk and Arryk had risen quickly through the ranks. One specialized in defending the king, the other the queen. It wouldn't be long before one of the brothers would be named the new commander of the Kingsguard.
...
Dungeon.
The dimly lit environment reeked of stench, and the wails of prisoners echoed from the cages.
Erryk led the way with a torch in one hand, casting flickering shadows on the damp walls. Viserys followed behind, covering his nose and mouth with a handkerchief. He would not have set foot in this place if he hadn't needed to meet his uncooperative brother.
They walked deeper into the dungeon and came to a familiar cell.
"Brother, what brings you back here?" Daemon asked, sitting drowsily on the wooden bed, the shackles on his hands and feet clanking with every movement. It had been so long that he couldn't tell day from night and often lost track of time.
Viserys looked at him in disgust and handed him a list of plans. "Take a look at this and tell me if it's feasible."
"Hmph, do you take me for a counselor in custody?" Daemon snorted but still got up and took the list, examining it. Locked in the dungeon, he had realized that sometimes one has to bend to survive. The last time he had taunted Alicent, he found something foul in his food the next day. It had taken three days for the prison food to return to normal.
Viserys, in high spirits, did not care to argue. He kept his brother in the dungeon to be used when needed. There was a certain satisfaction in having him at his disposal.
Daemon rolled his eyes and scanned the list. "Repairing the gutter, cleaning the sewers..." he muttered, quickly losing interest. For him, these were trivial matters.
After a long pause, Viserys asked, "What do you think?"
"About what?" Daemon's head dropped and his voice grew longer.
"The new plan!" Viserys snapped. "Answer me honestly or you'll starve for another three days."
Daemon stared at the list, surprised. "You know?"
"Hmph, my own brother eating shit in the dungeon—do you think I don't know?" Viserys retorted sarcastically. "I don't care what Alicent said to you. Just don't mess with these crazy women."
"Oh, you don't," Daemon sighed, shaking his head.
"What do you know? Just answer the question!" Viserys was losing patience.
Daemon shook the list and adopted a more serious tone. "It's alright. The sewers in King's Landing do need cleaning, and building public toilets is a good idea." When he had been the commander of the City Watch, he had both loved and loathed patrolling the streets.
Apprehending criminals was thrilling, but the stench of King's Landing was unbearable. Every day, his boots stepped in a different kind of filth.
...
Viserys nodded in satisfaction and continued, "What about the last two points: employing civilians and encouraging the opening of land?"
"Who came up with this plan?" Daemon asked, sidestepping the question.
"Rhaegar's suggestion," Viserys replied honestly.
"Tsk, clever boy, full of possessiveness," Daemon smirked. He could see the implications of the plan: to clear out the excess population of the monarchy and eliminate the potential for civilian riots. Every generation of Targaryen kings had entertained this idea, but it was undoubtedly difficult to implement.
After thinking for a moment, Daemon banged the back of his head against the iron railing and murmured, "The plan is feasible and seamless." With a twinkle in his eye, he added, "Who will execute the plan?"
"Otto Hightower," Viserys said bluntly.
"Oh, good choice," Daemon sneered, baring his teeth and shrugging slightly. "This kind of drudgery where you'll be cursed for even suggesting it is perfect for Otto, that old bastard."
"Daemon, watch your language," Viserys warned, glaring at him. Like it or not, Otto was still his father-in-law.
"Che, you asked. I'm going back to sleep," Daemon retorted, throwing away the list and lying down on the wooden bed.
Viserys, seething with frustration, said through gritted teeth, "Daemon, don't you want to get out of here?"
"And how can I do that, as a sinner?" Daemon asked rhetorically, pulling the covers over his head.
"Hmph, think about it," Viserys grunted coldly, leaving the words, "Vaemond is dead."
With that, he walked out of the dungeon under Erryk's escort.
As the sound of footsteps gradually faded, the wooden bed in the cell creaked. Daemon lifted the covers, his eyes gradually regaining their brightness. Vaemond's death had introduced too many variables. It could be a prelude to war or the beginning of House Velaryon's decline. All he needed was the right opportunity to escape the cold, damp dungeon.
With that in mind, Daemon closed his eyes and muttered, "Brother, you and I are really connected by blood..."