Chapter Text
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A figure stalked the rooftops of Lys, always watching. Watching a certain brothel, a certain library, the docks, a group of tapestry weavers, and an alchemists.
There might as well have been cadet branches of Houses Targaryen and Velaryon in Lys, given how many were stalking around.
Saera Targaryen, the pleasure house owner.
Vaegon Targaryen, the visiting, stoic archmaester.
Aegon Targaryen, the dockworker.
Aemond Targaryen, the dockworker, turned alchemist.
Daeron Targaryen, the gardener and guard.
Helaena Targaryen, the tapestry weaver and market seller.
Laenor Velaryon, a visiting sailor from Volantis.
Qarl Correy, Laenor's 'roomate'.
Maegelle Targaryen, a former septa, turned tapestry weaver and greyscale survivor.
Jocelyn Baratheon Targaryen, a widow and runaway lady, turned banker.
Gael Targaryen, a supposedly drowned princess, now co owner of Saera's pleasure house.
Aenar Waters, Gael's bastard son, and guard for some Lysene merchant families.
Jacaerys 'Velaryon', an alchemist with Aemond.
Lucerys 'Velaryon', a dockworker with Aegon.
Joffrey 'Velaryon', a gardener with Daeron.
Hugh Waters, Saera's bastard son, Jaehaerys I's lookalike, and a farmer.
Aerea Targaryen, an escapee septa, swapped with her sister, turned cook for a rich family.
So many people the figure could hand over for ransom, or so many, they could kill, for what King Viserys Targaryen did to them.