126-130

*Chapter 126: Sunfyre – A Little Snack*

Sunfyre moved with agility, breaking through the Dragonkeepers blocking its way and ramming into Moondancer.

“Screech!”  

Caught off guard, Moondancer was knocked to the ground, and in an instant, the smaller Sunfyre leapt on top.

Sunfyre’s vicious temperament took over. Once it gained the upper hand, it immediately lunged for Moondancer’s neck, attempting to tear out a large chunk of flesh.

“Screech!”  

Moondancer quickly recoiled, letting out an enraged cry, and struck Sunfyre’s head with powerful wingbeats.

Fueled by its ferocity, Sunfyre continued to bite relentlessly but struggled to penetrate Moondancer’s defenses.

After all, Moondancer was the eldest of the second-generation dragons.

Though not as massive as contemporaries like Cannibal or Vermithor, it was still significantly larger than younger third-generation dragons such as Meleys or Caraxes.

As a fourth-generation dragon, Sunfyre was merely half Moondancer’s size and no real match for it.

A blast of orange-tinged blue dragonfire erupted from Moondancer’s jaws, sending Sunfyre tumbling to the ground. The smaller dragon struggled to rise, its movements shaky.

Moondancer hadn’t flown freely in years, leaving its body less agile than it once was.

Yet, dealing with an overconfident young dragon was still well within its capabilities.

As the two dragons fought, Aegon knew he was about to pay for his actions.

Climbing down from Sunfyre’s back, Aegon realized his mistake and bolted, trying to flee.

Whoosh!  

An arrow whizzed past his cheek, slicing off a lock of hair near his ear.

In an instant, Aegon froze as if a spell had been cast on him. Trembling, he remained in place, one foot still lifted mid-step.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the arrow’s source—his older brother, Rhaegar.

“Run, go on. If I catch you, you’re going to regret it,” Rhaegar said flatly.

His voice sent a shiver down Aegon’s spine, leaving him quaking.

After a brief glance at the entangled dragons, Rhaegar discarded his bow and approached Aegon with a cold, emotionless expression.

Terrified, Aegon didn’t dare move. His pupils dilated in fear.

When Rhaegar reached him, he grabbed Aegon by the hair and slammed him to the ground with a loud thud.

“You brat! Just a few days without supervision, and you think you can do as you please?”

Ignoring Aegon’s cries of pain, Rhaegar climbed on top of him, pinning him down.

With one hand, he steadied Aegon’s head; with the other, he raised his palm and struck.

Slap!  

The sound echoed as Rhaegar’s hand landed on Aegon’s face, snapping his head to the side. A bright red handprint immediately swelled on his cheek.

“Screech!”  

Meanwhile, Sunfyre, enraged after being knocked aside, roared and lunged at Moondancer again.

Moondancer crouched low, its wings pressed to the ground, its long neck extended forward as it prepared to unleash dragonfire.

The clash between the two dragons was imminent.

Rhaegar, momentarily distracted by their roars, cast a dispassionate glance in their direction but showed no other reaction.

“Screech!”  

As Sunfyre flapped its wings and launched itself toward Moondancer, a thunderous roar suddenly echoed throughout the dragon pit.

From the depths of a cavern, a shadow burst forth with lightning speed, appearing above the two dragons in an instant.

Slash!  

A coal-black claw extended, gripping Sunfyre’s neck with deadly precision and ending the fight immediately.

“Roar!”  

The intruder, Cannibal, glared fiercely, pinning the golden dragon underfoot and growling menacingly from its throat.

It had been peacefully sleeping in its lair when the commotion above disturbed its rest.

As it emerged, responding to its rider’s summons, it put an end to the chaos.

Now, Cannibal was furious.

“Screech!”  

Frustrated at being interrupted, Moondancer roared at the black dragon, spreading its wings in a show of defiance.

Cannibal raised its head, its emerald eyes narrowing as it cast a sidelong glance at the challenger.

With an overwhelming surge of killing intent, the black dragon’s aura swept through the pit.

Moondancer froze momentarily, its rage vanishing. Lowering its head submissively, it retreated a few steps.

In a single glance, Moondancer recognized the vast difference in power between itself and Cannibal.

Even disregarding experience, Cannibal’s size alone was unmatched.

Decades of confinement in the dragon pit had stunted Moondancer’s growth, leaving it comparable to third-generation dragons.

Cannibal, as a preeminent second-generation dragon, was not only a wild dragon by nature but had also consumed life essences that unlocked its potential.

Over the years, its body had grown monstrously large.

Once of a similar size to Vermithor, Cannibal now dwarfed it by a fifth.

Standing before Cannibal, Moondancer was completely overshadowed, its size barely two-thirds of the black dragon’s.

And Sunfyre, trapped beneath Cannibal’s claws, was no better than a mouse before a cat, utterly helpless.

“Return Moondancer and Tessarion to the pit!”

As silence returned to the dragon pit, Rhaegar coldly issued his command to the stunned Dragonkeepers.

“Yes, my prince…”

Hearing the command, the dragon handlers quickly stepped forward to assist the dragon guards in calming and guiding the two dragons.

With the trouble resolved, Rhaegar's gaze returned to Aegon. Forcing a kind smile, he spoke calmly:

"Aegon, do you realize your mistake?"

"I was wrong. I know I was wrong," Aegon replied hastily, clutching his swollen cheek.

"Oh? Then tell me, what was your mistake?"

"I... I shouldn’t have ordered Sunfyre to act recklessly..."

Slap!  

Before Aegon could finish, Rhaegar backhanded him across the face and said, "Wrong. Try again!"

"I shouldn’t have run away, shouldn’t have mocked Aemond. I apologize to all of you..."

After two slaps in quick succession, Aegon’s head was spinning, and he scrambled to admit his mistakes. It hurt too much!

Slap!  

Another slap landed, splitting Aegon’s lip as he groaned in pain.

Rhaegar stood up, grabbed a handful of Aegon’s hair, and yanked him to his feet. His gaze shifted to the distant Glutton, and he leaned close to Aegon’s ear, his voice like a devil’s whisper:

"Wrong again. Keep going."

"I don’t know! I really don’t know! If you say I’m wrong, then I must be wrong..." Aegon whimpered, his head tilted back and his words barely coherent.

"Still wrong. It seems you don’t understand your greatest mistake."

Rhaegar tightened his grip and pointed at Glutton. "You were feeling proud just now about riding a dragon, weren’t you?"

"What... What are you planning?"

Aegon followed Rhaegar’s finger and immediately froze when his eyes landed on Sunfyre, who was struggling desperately. His expression changed instantly.

"Don’t worry. My dragon will explain it to you," Rhaegar said, his tone calm yet filled with ominous intent.

"Sssss... Grrrr..."

As if sensing his master’s thoughts, Glutton stomped violently, nearly crushing Sunfyre. The golden dragon let out a heart-wrenching cry.

"No! Sunfyre is just a dragon; it doesn’t understand anything!"

Aegon twisted and thrashed, trying to break free in desperation.

Thud!  

Rhaegar drove a knee into Aegon’s back, immediately forcing him to settle down.

"Watch closely and see what happens when you can’t recognize your mistakes."

"Sssss... Grrrr..."

At that moment, Glutton roared, its vertical pupils locking onto Sunfyre. Its maw curled into a savage grin.

The golden dragon was its prey—a delightful little snack. It had been a long time since Glutton had tasted one of its kind, and it almost missed the flavor.

In the next instant, Glutton raised the talon pinning Sunfyre and lowered its massive head, sinking its jaws into Sunfyre’s neck.

"No! It’s eating Sunfyre!"

The terrified Aemond, who had been silently watching, fell to the ground in horror.

Over the years, Glutton’s strength had grown significantly.

---

(End of Chapter)

Chapter 127: Relic of the Dark Sisters

"Quiet, Aemond."

Rhaegar turned back casually and said, "You can stay and watch, or you can leave."

Aemond's face was filled with fear, his chest heaving violently as he stared blankly at the Devourer committing violence.

One dragon devouring another—it was a scene too shocking to process.

“Hiss... Gah…”

The dragon's head fell into the massive jaws of the abyss. Sunflame's body writhed desperately, emitting faint, terrified screams.

A glint of mockery flashed in the Devourer’s eyes.

It didn’t crush Sunflame’s neck immediately. Instead, it toyed with its prey, slowly opening and closing its jaws, swallowing bit by bit.

Aegon stared in disbelief at the scene, utterly frozen.

It wasn't until Sunflame's long neck disappeared into the dragon's maw that tears welled up in Aegon’s eyes. Reality struck him hard, snapping him out of his daze.

Grabbing at Rhaegar’s sleeve, Aegon cried out desperately, "Brother! I was wrong! I truly know I was wrong!"

"Please, I beg you, command the Devourer to spare Sunflame. Please, I’m begging you…"

By the end, Aegon was sobbing uncontrollably, his words choked and garbled.

Each Targaryen had a unique bond with their dragons.

Aegon had spent years taming Sunflame, building a deep emotional connection.

Rhaegar turned his head slightly, showing no intention of intervening.

If only you had thought about this before…  

“Hiss… Gah…”

Trapped within the dragon’s maw, Sunflame let out continuous cries, flapping its wings in a futile struggle.

Annoyed, the Devourer shook its head and lifted its wings. Using its clawed forelimbs, it grabbed Sunflame’s body on both sides and slowly shoved it further into its mouth.

It resembled a toddler tilting its head back to pour snacks into its mouth.

"No, please!"

Witnessing this, Aegon nearly collapsed.

Falling to the ground, he wept bitterly, pleading, "Brother, please tell me what I did wrong…"

"I swear I'll change! Just spare Sunflame!"

Watching helplessly as his dragon was about to be devoured, Aegon fully realized his immaturity.

Still a youth, he couldn’t bear this tragedy.

He wanted to admit his mistake. He wanted to beg for mercy. He hoped his pleas would earn his elder brother Rhaegar’s compassion.

Looking down at the sobbing, despairing Aegon, Rhaegar’s calm gaze rippled slightly with a faint trace of emotion.

He released Aegon’s hair from his grip and pinched his chin, sighing softly.

"My foolish brother, you should count yourself lucky that we share the same bloodline."

At the same time, the Devourer continued stuffing Sunflame into its maw. In an instant, only Sunflame’s hind legs and tail remained visible.

"Devourer."

Rhaegar lightly patted Aegon’s head and called out gently.

“Hiss… Gah…”

The Devourer paused at the sound, tilting its head in confusion to look at its rider, though it didn’t stop swallowing.

Rhaegar gave an apologetic smile, locking eyes with the beast. He said no more.

From a distance of several dozen meters, man and dragon locked gazes.

A green dragon sigil appeared in Rhaegar’s eyes, mirrored in the vertical pupils of the Devourer, which reflected its rider’s image.

In that silent exchange, man and dragon understood each other’s thoughts.

After a moment, the Devourer folded its wings reluctantly, turning around and spitting out Sunflame from its jaws.

With a wet splat, Sunflame landed on the ground, its body coated in sticky dragon saliva, convulsing as though in shock.

“Hiss… Gah…”

The Devourer was visibly irritated that its snack had been taken away.

Its tail lashed out violently, swatting the incapacitated Sunflame far across the ground.

Though reluctant, it ultimately obeyed its rider’s command.

Seeing that Sunflame had been spared, Aegon’s sorrow turned into joy. Overwhelmed with emotion, he exclaimed, "Thank you, Brother!"

"Aegon, you asked me what you did wrong. As your elder brother, I will remind you this once."

Rhaegar gazed down at him, his voice calm but heavy with authority.

"Remember, no matter when or where, no matter what our positions may be, you must always show me the utmost respect."

"Otherwise…"

"I will! I swear I’ll change!"

Before Rhaegar could finish, Aegon interrupted with a desperate declaration.

"That’s not enough."

Rhaegar shook his head and said, "You are my brother. It is my duty to teach and protect you."

"In return, you must not only learn respect but also understand your place."

"What I give you is yours."

"What I don’t give, you cannot keep."

As he spoke, Rhaegar pointed at the crumpled form of Sunflame and said softly, "Brother, the chance for forgiveness comes only once. Do you understand?"

"Y-Yes…"

The overwhelming pressure engulfed Aegon, leaving him temporarily speechless. Forcing a smile more pitiful than crying, he nodded repeatedly like a bobbing puppet.

Seven Gods above…

The painful lesson from today was one he would never dare to forget for the rest of his life.

“Good, it seems you’ve learned your lesson,” Rhaegar said with a smile.

He called over a few Dragon Guards and instructed them, “Ensure my younger siblings are safely escorted back to the Red Keep.”

With the chaotic dispute over, he still needed to calm the enraged glutton.

Taking food from a dragon’s mouth was bound to stir no small amount of resentment.

“I’ll help you up, Prince,” one of the guards hurried forward to assist Aegon and the fallen Aemond.

Helaena hid behind a cluster of bonfires.

She had watched the entire farce unfold, her heart brimming with indescribable emotions.

Helaena’s rosy lips parted slightly as her wide eyes fixed on Rhaegar’s retreating figure. She was utterly captivated.

“Do dragons... give people courage?”

She didn’t know why her eldest brother seemed so commanding, but the image of him giving an order to the dragon remained etched in her mind, vivid and unforgettable.

“Princess, please come with me,” a Dragon Guard said, approaching her.

Helaena covered her small mouth, glancing around nervously.

Finally, her gaze landed on the entrance to a cavern.

And there she saw it—Dreamfyre, a massive dragon with pale blue scales, retreating into the cavern.

Although Dreamfyre wasn’t as fearsome as the glutton, it was larger than Sunfyre and Tessarion.

Helaena’s innocent mind began to work.

She believed she could tame Dreamfyre and gain the same courage as her eldest brother.

Rhaegar glanced at the little girl.

Seeing her dazed expression, he assumed she was frightened and instructed the Dragon Guards to handle her with care.

---

Dusk fell.

Above King’s Landing, a massive black dragon circled slowly, its claws clutching several cows and sheep.

Seated in the saddle, Rhaegar closed his eyes, tilting his head back as he let his thoughts drift.

He had just returned from Dragonstone. The glutton had been allowed to indulge itself for half the day, snatching some livestock.

Over time, the bond between Rhaegar and the glutton grew deeper.

Much of this was thanks to his good uncle, Daemon.

Pulling up the system panel, he reviewed his past exploration records.

*[Dark Sister]*

- Exploration Progress: 100%

- “Exploration complete. Please collect the lost relic.”

- “Relic successfully retrieved. Initiating detection...”

- “Detection complete. Classified as an epic relic: Knight’s Glory.”

A small line of text appeared below:

“Please select a Guardian Knight.”

Without hesitation, Rhaegar chose the glutton, binding himself and the dragon as one.

“Congratulations. Knight’s Glory has been activated. You have gained...”

*[Knight’s Oath]*

- Level: Epic (Purple)

- Effect: Unified Will

- Description: “Bound by an oath, life and death are shared.”

Whew...

The evening breeze brushed against his face as Rhaegar slowly opened his eyes, drawing the Dark Sister from his waist.

This ancestral sword had brought him an invaluable relic.

With the glutton as his Guardian Knight, man and dragon no longer needed words to communicate. A single thought was enough to convey anything seamlessly.

Moreover, Rhaegar gained a unique benefit from his bond with the glutton—one that would bring him endless advantage.

---

The primary cause of the Dance of the Dragons stemmed from Rhaenyra’s claim as a female heir.

As the eldest son, Rhaegar naturally had a stronger claim to legitimacy.

Because of this, most of his enemies operated from the shadows, unlike the Rhaenyra in the original story, who was openly ostracized and forced to retreat to Dragonstone in humiliation.

---

(Chapter End)  

*Chapter 128: Alicent's Request*

The Red Keep under the night sky.

The King’s bedchamber.

“Viserys, you heard about what happened today, didn’t you?”

On the bed, Alicent, dressed in a thin lace nightgown, curled up in her husband’s arms.

Her voice was hoarse, slightly breathless.

Viserys, his face flushed, leaned against the headboard, savoring his wife’s warmth as he closed his eyes in contentment.

He took a couple of deep breaths and said slowly, “A little squabble between brothers, nothing unusual.”

He knew exactly what his wife was referring to.

In the Dragonpit, Rhaegar had given Aegon a beating—nothing more.

Alicent sat up at his words, her eyes brimming with tears. “I’m not complaining to you, but Aegon was badly beaten. The maester said even his teeth are loose.”

Thinking of her son’s condition, her heart ached like it was being cut by a knife.

That was her child, each one cherished like a treasure and raised with care.

For someone to beat him senseless, how could she let it go?

“Alicent, you’re just being overly sensitive.”

“I specifically asked about what happened in the Dragonpit. Aegon was misbehaving, so Rhaegar disciplined him.”

Viserys opened his eyes, his hand cupping one of his wife’s pale shoulders, chuckling softly. “Rhaegar acted like a responsible older brother. He even prepared two dragons for Aemond and Helaena to tame.”

He knew why the children had gone to the Dragonpit. Alicent had already informed him.

Rhaegar handled it well—generously and with care. He ensured they were supervised throughout and treated his younger siblings kindly.

That pleased Viserys greatly.

“But I’m worried.”

Alicent covered the hand her husband was using to caress her, bowing her head as she murmured, “Aegon is just a reckless boy. If he has to work under Rhaegar in the future, how can he possibly manage?”

Viserys frowned at her words and asked, “What are you trying to say?”

He thought Alicent had come to complain about Rhaegar.

But listening to her, it didn’t seem like she was blaming him.

“Aegon is aimless and immature. He needs someone to guide him.”

Alicent spoke candidly, looking at her husband with anticipation.

Viserys suddenly understood and laughed. “Let me guess—you’re talking about Otto, aren’t you?”

Alicent had long since requested that her father, Otto Hightower, return to King’s Landing to take up a position.

However, Viserys had not found a suitable role for him and was hesitant to reinstate someone with such evident personal ambition.

Alicent’s gaze softened, her eyes hopeful. “My father served as Hand of the King, and he’s Aegon’s grandfather. He’ll surely be able to guide him properly.”

“You know I’m not fond of Otto.”

Viserys replied ambiguously.

“If Rhaegar can beat Aegon today, what’s to stop him from doing it again tomorrow? When will it end?”

Alicent’s smile faded, and she pleaded earnestly, “Rhaegar’s position as heir is unshakable. You don’t need to worry about my father leading Aegon astray.”

“Sigh, let me think about it.”

Viserys rubbed his temples, his head aching, and shifted to lie flat on the bed.

“Viserys, Aegon is your son too. You should give him the same love you give the others.”

Alicent’s voice was soft as she reached for the bedside lamp, plunging the room into darkness.

Outside the door, Ser Arryk, clad in silver armor and a white cloak, stood guard.

Only when the muffled sounds of shared breaths rose from the chamber did he silently step back a few paces.

---

*The Next Day*

Early in the morning, Rhaegar was summoned to his father’s room.

Viserys, dressed in his sleeping robe, sat at the round table in the sitting area, eating breakfast.

Seeing his eldest son enter, he gestured with his knife and fork, smiling warmly. “Haven’t eaten yet? Join your father for a meal.”

Rhaegar glanced briefly at the closed bedroom door, smiling. “Alright, I’m actually hungry.”

As they ate, Viserys began, “Yesterday, Tyland brought me two messages that you should hear.”

“What news?”

Rhaegar sipped his milk, curiosity evident.

“Concerning the Stepstones.”

Viserys, having almost finished his meal, dabbed his mouth with a napkin and adopted a serious tone:

“According to our informants, the pirates plundering the ships have been confirmed to be from the Triarchy. They’re ready to strike.”

“War is coming.”

Rhaegar nodded, thoughtful. “The Triarchy isn’t weak, and they have the support of Dorne. It will be a tough fight.”

“There’s worse news.”

Viserys sighed heavily, his expression troubled. “The Sea Snake has gathered dozens of warships at Driftmark and plans to re-engage the Triarchy.”

“Corlys intends to act independently again?”

Rhaegar frowned.

War is no trivial matter.

During the last Stepstones War, the Sea Snake and Daemon joined forces, paying a heavy price for a bitter victory.

Father tacitly allowed the war, profiting from it as a bystander.

Not only were the pirates of the Kingdom of the Three Daughters driven out, but the Sea Snake and Daemon’s forces were severely weakened.

Now, years later, the Kingdom of the Three Daughters is returning, and they won’t be as easy to deal with this time.

Moreover—

In the last war, Daemon acted as the representative of the royal family, which helped restrain the Sea Snake’s influence through sheer reputation.

If another war breaks out now, the royal family cannot afford to stand by idly.

Otherwise, it would deal a serious blow to their prestige.

As Rhaegar mulled this over, he asked, “Father, are you suggesting we ally with the Sea Snake?”

The royal family doesn’t have a dedicated navy; they can only rely on the Sea Snake’s fleet.

“Exactly. The Kingdom of the Three Daughters is coming with overwhelming force this time, and the Sea Snake is the finest naval commander in the realm,” Viserys said with a hint of helplessness. “To win hearts and repel this threat, the Velaryon family is indispensable.”

“And what do you need me to do?”

Rhaegar realized that his father must have called him here for an important task.

“The Velaryons and the Targaryens have been at odds for years. I want you to travel to Driftmark and invite the Sea Snake to King’s Landing to discuss external affairs.”

Viserys paused, then emphasized, “The Sea Snake will undoubtedly have conditions. You’ll need to judge wisely, and if possible, ease the tensions between our families.”

“No problem. When should I leave?” Rhaegar asked.

Viserys replied, “In a few days, it will be your aunt Rhaenys’ name day. A grand feast is planned.

“I’ll allow you to ride your dragon there, but remember—do not provoke any conflicts.”

“Understood. I’ll handle this matter properly,” Rhaegar agreed, standing up to leave.

Creak—

As he shut the door behind him, Rhaegar let out a bitter smile, rubbing his face with both hands.

“Attending a birthday banquet on Driftmark…”

The idea of an alliance sounded simple, but carrying it out would be incredibly challenging.

Not to mention the lingering grievances between the Sea Snake and his father.

And then there’s Laenor and Daemon, who are still on the kingdom’s wanted list.

This mission was anything but easy.

“Sigh… this trip to Driftmark is bound to be complicated.”

Lost in thought, Rhaegar unknowingly wandered into the open-air corridor.

“Prince.”

A voice called out, stopping him in his tracks.

Rhaegar turned around to see a man seated on a bench at the edge of the corridor, looking at him with a smile.

“Larys, do you need something?”

Rhaegar felt puzzled.

The man had curly brown hair, a slender frame, and eyes that occasionally gleamed with shrewdness.

It was none other than Larys Strong, the second son of the Hand of the King, Lyonel Strong.

Larys leaned on a staff with both hands, leaning forward slightly as he smiled. “Prince, I just heard some interesting information that I thought you might want to hear.”

Schemes and intrigue, power struggles and war, the dance of blood and fire—all these stories must be written.

(The chapter ends here.)

Chapter 129: Larys’ Intelligence

Larys wore a faint smile, his eyes melancholic, resembling a frustrated scholar unable to fulfill his ambitions.

Rhaegar walked forward with his hands behind his back and asked with a smile, “Oh? What intelligence do you have?”

He had met this man when he was a child and knew all too well that Larys would go to any lengths to gather information.

Larys leaned on his cane as he stood, limping a couple of steps forward before grinning awkwardly. “Shall we find a quiet place to talk?”

“Sure.”

Rhaegar followed, curious to see what this man was up to.

With some effort, Larys led Rhaegar to an empty attic.

“This place is quiet. No one comes here,” Larys remarked as he waved his hand to clear the dust, speaking with a shy, self-deprecating chuckle.

Rhaegar casually sat by the balcony of the glass window and asked bluntly, “So, what kind of information requires dragging me here?”

To him, Larys was not the type to act without personal gain. For him to approach so suddenly, there was undoubtedly something in it for him.

Larys found a chair in the corner and sat down. After fidgeting uncomfortably for a moment, he adjusted his seat and smiled awkwardly under Rhaegar's unwavering gaze.

Clearing his throat, Larys began speaking just as Rhaegar’s patience started to wane. “Your Highness, I’ve gathered intelligence from three different places. Which one would you like to hear first?”

“Which three places?” Rhaegar asked.

“Oldtown, the Vale, and Driftmark,” Larys replied with a smile.

“Let’s go in the order you mentioned.”

Rhaegar became intrigued, interlacing his fingers across his chest.

Nodding knowingly, Larys composed his thoughts and said, “The former Hand of the King, Otto Hightower, has been making frequent visits to the Citadel and the High Septon of the Faith of the Seven. It’s said that they’ve had long, lively discussions that stretch late into the night.”

Rhaegar blinked in surprise and asked, “What’s strange about that?”

Both the Citadel and the Great Sept of Baelor were based in Oldtown and had long-standing ties with the Hightower family. Their connections were hardly unusual.

Shaking his head with a sly smile, Larys continued, “Half a month ago, the Citadel sent a group of maesters to King’s Landing to assume various official posts. Furthermore, more clergy have begun appearing in Flea Bottom’s welfare shelters, distributing food and helping the poor.”

“Winning hearts and minds?” Rhaegar immediately guessed.

“Exactly. Your plan to reform King’s Landing has caught Otto’s attention. He’s determined to secure real power in this endeavor. Queen Alicent, on her part, has been lobbying the King privately,” Larys replied with a hint of admiration.

“Hah. Such patriotism,” Rhaegar remarked with a chuckle and a shake of his head before adding, “Go on, what’s the next piece of intelligence?”

“Aren’t you curious about Otto’s schemes?”

“There’s no need. I never take the so-called ‘Green Party’ seriously,” Rhaegar said confidently.

At the succession council, Alicent had indeed stood out in her green gown, earning the factional nickname “the Greens.” She garnered support from the Oldtown faction and secretly rallied some minor lords and disfavored knights. Meanwhile, Rhaegar and his sister, Rhaenyra, both known as the “Black Party,” commanded overwhelming backing from loyal vassals.

Rhaegar always found these factional names ridiculous. As long as Alicent remained content as Queen, he couldn’t care less about her “Greens.” However, if she dared harbor ulterior motives, then King’s Landing would no longer tolerate anything green.

“Well, you certainly have a magnanimous heart,” Larys remarked, lowering his gaze as if drawn by Rhaegar’s confidence. He shifted his weight slightly, adjusting his crooked foot beneath his heavy boots.

After a brief pause, Larys shared his intelligence on the Vale. “Lady Rhea Royce of Runestone has fallen in love with her cousin and plans to marry him next month.”

“Rhea Royce?” Rhaegar was taken aback.

“Indeed, Daemon Targaryen’s former wife,” Larys confirmed.

Rhaegar wasn’t particularly interested in his former aunt-by-marriage. Considering Daemon had already fathered children with Laena Velaryon, it seemed reasonable for Rhea to remarry.

“But the key isn’t Runestone,” Larys continued. “Six months ago, Lady Jeyne Arryn of the Eyrie had a heated argument with her cousin Arnold Arryn. He challenged her right to rule as a woman, claiming she was too weak to lead the Vale.”

“And what happened?” Rhaegar asked.

“They parted on bad terms. Arnold fled the Eyrie and hasn’t been seen since,” Larys said with a wry smile.

“What’s curious is that, within a month, the mountain clans of the Vale began raiding lowland villages more frequently, abducting villagers.”

Frowning, Rhaegar asked, “Are you implying Arnold has colluded with the mountain clans to start a rebellion?”

"It's hard to say. On the surface, it seems Arnold has gone into hiding."

Larys shrugged, clearly enjoying the sense of accomplishment that came from solving riddles.

"What about the last piece of information?"

The Vale was too far away, so Rhaegar was more interested in hearing news about Driftmark.

Larys straightened up, speaking seriously: "According to reliable sources, Lady Laena Velaryon, the daughter of the Sea Snake, secretly returned to Driftmark under the cover of night. Lord Corlys Velaryon himself held a ceremony to name her twin granddaughters."

Hearing this, Rhaegar's expression darkened.

A few days ago, Rhaenyra had mentioned that Laena had written to her, pleading for help in returning to her homeland.

Who could have guessed that Laena had already quietly gone back to Driftmark?

She clearly didn’t care about whether the Crown would hold her accountable.

Rhaegar took a deep breath to calm himself and asked in a cold voice, "What about Daemon? Since his wife and daughters returned to Driftmark, did he go with them?"

"I'm not sure. The spies only spotted Lady Laena and the two babies," Larys replied.

He ventured a guess and analyzed: "Prince Daemon likely wouldn’t return on his own initiative. After all, he’s not a Velaryon by blood."

"However, I assume you’ve already heard the news from the Three Daughters."

"A war is imminent, and the Sea Snake is the best naval commander we have. He’ll certainly work with the Crown."

"When the time comes, if he requests the lifting of the warrants against his daughter and son-in-law, do you think His Majesty the King would agree?"

Rhaegar glanced at Larys, aware that his speculation was very plausible.

Larys, in turn, watched Rhaegar, a smile playing on his lips.

He always took great care and effort with the things he excelled at, striving for perfection.

He was confident that this gesture of goodwill would earn him the prince’s favor.

Rhaegar stood up and began walking toward the door.

Waving a hand, he said lightly, "Thank you for the information, Lord Larys."

He had heard all the intelligence he needed.

What else was there to talk about?

As the attic door closed, the smile on Larys' face disappeared, replaced by a blank look.

After a moment, he came to his senses, gazing out of the window with a detached expression. A self-deprecating smile spread across his face.

"Truly, a proud Targaryen," he muttered.

---

Night fell.

After bathing, Rhaegar lay shirtless on his bed.

After parting ways with Larys, he had taken a walk around King’s Landing.

As expected, he noticed many Faith of the Seven followers appearing in Flea Bottom.

"Allicent, Otto, the Sea Snake…"

He softly murmured the names of those who had brought trouble to him, allowing his thoughts to gradually empty.

As the crown prince, his responsibilities were immense.

Rhaenyra, bound by her status as a woman, had been scarred and weighed down by the position.

With his male and firstborn legitimacy, Rhaegar naturally enjoyed the favor of nobles across the realm.

What remained unchanged, however, was the ambition of those scheming in the shadows.

Larys was a formidable—or perhaps cunning—individual.

Personally, Rhaegar believed Larys' interest in intelligence stemmed from his insecurity about his physical disability.

He used it as a means to gamble for power, stealing authority from the highborn.

(End of Chapter)

*Chapter 130: King's Landing Under the Shadows*

Knock, knock...  

The faint sound of knocking broke Rhaegar’s train of thought.

“Who is it?”

Being disturbed in the middle of the night made Rhaegar instinctively frown.

“It’s me, your sister.”

Rhaenyra’s voice came from outside the door.

“Rhaenyra?”

Rhaegar was slightly startled. He climbed out of bed and said, “Come in.”

Creak—  

The door opened, and Rhaenyra walked in gracefully, holding a tray.

“Rhaenyra, what brings you here?”

Rhaegar looked puzzled.

“I heard you performed spectacularly today and even took on an important task. I came to check on you.”

Rhaenyra naturally sat down by the bedside, placing the tray to the side. On it sat a glass of milk.

“I brought you some milk, so you won’t suffer from insomnia or nightmares tonight.”

Rhaenyra crossed her legs, a playful smile on her face.

“Thank you.”

Rhaegar took the glass of milk seriously and sipped from it.

Suddenly, he noticed Rhaenyra’s attire.

It wasn’t her usual choice of black or red dresses. Instead, she was wearing a slightly formal green dress—one that didn’t seem to fit her very well.

Rhaegar glanced at it and asked casually, “This dress... why does it feel so familiar?”

“Hehe, you finally noticed.”

Rhaenyra tugged at the hem of the dress with a mischievous grin. “Last time, you were mumbling in your sleep about a ‘stepmother’s dress,’ so I borrowed one from Alicent.”

Pfft—cough, cough...  

Hearing this, Rhaegar nearly spat out his milk and choked so badly he almost couldn’t breathe.

No wonder the dress seemed familiar.

It really was Alicent’s.

“What’s with the overreaction? I spent days debating whether to wear this dress,” Rhaenyra said, rolling her eyes as she patted Rhaegar’s back.

Rhaegar’s face turned bright red as he stammered, “That was just a dream about some random outfit. It wasn’t about Alicent.”

Saying this made him feel thoroughly embarrassed.

His dreams often contained fragmented images, and occasionally, outfits would appear.

It had nothing to do with Alicent—absolutely nothing.

“Rhaenyra, you should probably return the dress to Alicent,” Rhaegar suggested, feeling uneasy.

“What? You don’t think it looks good?”

Rhaenyra’s competitive streak kicked in. She stood up and spun in a circle.

Rhaegar couldn’t bear to look, covering his face as he muttered, “You and Alicent don’t have the same figure. She’s slimmer than you.”

To be fair, even after having four children, Alicent still maintained a figure as youthful as a maiden’s.

It was no wonder their father, Viserys, had been captivated by her for so many years.

The siblings, Rhaegar and Rhaenyra, both inherited the sturdy builds common to people of the Vale—healthy and well-proportioned but not exactly slim.

Rhaenyra, wearing Alicent’s green dress, had her waist cinched so tightly that both the upper and lower parts of the dress looked like they were about to burst. It was glaringly mismatched.

No wonder Rhaegar noticed the difference at a glance.

“Rhaegar, say that again if you dare!”

A woman’s thoughts are hard to predict. Rhaenyra’s expression darkened instantly, and she glared at Rhaegar with hostility.

Rhaegar hesitated for a moment and said cautiously, “What I mean is... you’re not suited for Alicent’s clothes. The sizes don’t match.”

“You dare to keep talking!”

In Rhaenyra’s ears, his words translated to: Your figure isn’t as good as Alicent’s.  

She had gone to great lengths to wear this dress.

Instead of receiving the praise she expected, she was criticized. How could she not be furious?

Rhaenyra was so angry that her chest heaved dramatically. The peaks of her figure rose and fell with such force that, if not for the quality of the dress, it might have torn open.

Seeing Rhaegar about to argue further, she suddenly pounced on him, pinning him down and wrapping her hands around his neck in mock anger.

Of course, her strength was no match for Rhaegar’s.

Watching her determined efforts, Rhaegar couldn’t help but laugh. He reached out and wrapped an arm around her waist, treating it as yet another one of their playful scuffles.

When Rhaenyra was younger, she always used her seniority to lecture him.

Rhaenyra pinched for a long time, but seeing no effect, she angrily scolded, "Rhaegar, if you dare to talk nonsense again, I'll rip out your tongue."

"Heh, whatever you say."

Rhaegar, still unaware of the gravity of the situation, provocatively opened his mouth wide.

"Ow~!"

Rhaenyra grew increasingly furious and bit down hard on his shoulder.

"Rhaenyra, that really hurts! Let go!"

The sharp pain made Rhaegar immediately change his tone, begging for mercy.

"Dream on! You just need to be taught a lesson."

Still biting down on his shoulder, Rhaenyra flipped him over and raised her hand to strike him.

Thud—

Rhaegar suddenly flipped them both, pinning her beneath him.

Even so, Rhaenyra kept her teeth clamped on his shoulder, glaring at him indignantly.

The moon outside the window shone brightly, casting its glow into the bedroom.

The night breeze rustled through the weirwood trees in the garden, their leaves whispering softly.

Rhaegar looked down at Rhaenyra, enduring the pain in silence.

For a long moment, neither spoke.

Finally, blood seeped from the corner of Rhaenyra's mouth as she slowly let go.

"Ow! You really bit hard!"

Rhaegar quickly backed away, clutching his bleeding shoulder, his face contorted in pain.

Rhaenyra had never been this angry before—it really hurt.

She lay on the bed, sulking, and said begrudgingly, "I'm coming with you to Driftmark."

"Who told you about that?"

Rhaegar leaned against the bedhead, cleaning the saliva off his shoulder, and looked at her in surprise.

"In all of King’s Landing, do you think your dragon pit is the only thing people talk about?"

Rhaenyra shot him a glance, her tone laced with sarcasm.

Rhaegar nodded slightly at her words, choosing not to argue.

As the political center of the entire continent, King's Landing was constantly under watch, its secrets always at risk of exposure.

"I can go to Driftmark on my own. The Sea Snake wouldn’t dare try anything."

Rhaegar leaned back, speaking calmly. "Besides, it’s just for my name day celebration—and Aunt Rhaenys will be there, too."

"And what about Laena and Daemon?"

Rhaenyra raised her head, her expression serious.

Rhaegar froze, not expecting her to know even that.

"Ah, you've been the heir to the throne for years now, and you're good at many things—but you're too arrogant," Rhaenyra sighed, her voice tinged with helplessness.

Under Rhaegar's puzzled gaze, she kicked off her boots, leaned back against the headboard, and pulled him into an embrace.

Rhaegar obediently rested his head against her soft shoulder, his previously restless mind suddenly calming.

Then, he heard Rhaenyra’s wistful voice.

"Rhaegar, I was once chosen by Father as the heir."

"But simply because I am not a man, those vassals who swore allegiance to me belittled me and only paid lip service to my words."

"King’s Landing is the largest cesspool in the world, teeming with countless snakes and vermin."

"Every preference you show, every decision you make, will become a target for these pests to exploit."

At this, Rhaenyra leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to Rhaegar's forehead, warning him earnestly, "Trust no one. They’re only after the flesh and blood we share."

Her heartfelt words were full of caution, urging her younger brother to stay vigilant and avoid becoming someone else’s pawn.

Rhaegar silently wrapped his arms around her slender waist, rubbing his cheek against her shoulder. Moved, he said, "I understand. I know."

"No, you don’t," Rhaenyra said firmly, holding him tighter. "I’ve experienced the loneliness of having no one to rely on. You, on the other hand, have always lived in the sun."

She tightened her grip and continued seriously, "You have no foundation in the Small Council, and Father is easily swayed by others."

Sigh.  

I wish I could write something great, but the censorship is too overwhelming. If you know, you know.

(End of Chapter)