101-105

Chapter 101: Mutual Dependence

"Ahhhh!!!"

As soon as Rhaegar left, Alicent broke down, screaming as she threw pillows and blankets everywhere, furiously tugging at her hair.

"Your Grace, is there anything you need?"

A maid's voice came from outside the door in response to her screams.

"Get out! I don’t need anything—just leave me alone!"

Alicent’s face was filled with despair as she unleashed her rage.

She knew that some of her little schemes had been noticed.

And that led to tonight’s warning.

They had even used her son, Aegon, to threaten her.

“Waaah…”

After her outburst, Alicent buried her head in her hands, crying uncontrollably. She repeatedly hit her head, choking out indistinctly, “It wasn’t me… I didn’t want this… I really didn’t…”

No one knew what it was she didn’t want.

And perhaps it didn’t matter.

---

*Outside the castle.*

Rhaegar exited the secret passage and looked up at the sky. The crescent moon was shrouded by dark clouds.

He glanced toward a nearby cliff.

His dragon was resting there.

"Forget it. Rhaenyra wasn’t happy today—might as well go see her."

After his conversation with Alicent, Rhaegar felt an odd sense of calm.

Originally, he had planned to sleep next to Glutton (his dragon), which always gave him a sense of security.

But the thought of Rhaenyra’s disappointed expression at the banquet unsettled him.

Carrying a small brazier, he walked confidently back into the castle.

He stopped outside Rhaenyra’s room.

“Your Highness,”

Ser Criston Cole, stationed at the door, greeted him in surprise when he saw Rhaegar approaching.

“I’m here to see Rhaenyra. We agreed to sleep together tonight.”

Without the slightest hesitation, Rhaegar made up an excuse and pushed the door open, walking into the room under the watchful eyes of the Kingsguard.

Even he wasn’t sure what had come over him.

Habits he’d never had before were starting to form, becoming second nature.

Once inside the room, Rhaegar moved carefully and quietly.

On the bed, Rhaenyra was lying on her side, fast asleep, her long, silvery-gold hair cascading loosely around her.

Rhaegar approached and glanced at his sister’s unrestrained sleeping posture, shaking his head.

“No wonder I’m always being smothered when I sleep.”

No sooner had he muttered this than Rhaenyra suddenly opened her eyes, staring directly at him.

Startled, Rhaegar took an involuntary step back.

Rhaenyra grabbed his hand and pulled him onto the bed with a playful expression.

“Big Sister…” Rhaegar fell onto the bed and greeted her sheepishly.

Pinching his cheek, Rhaenyra said angrily, “Rhaegar, who gave you the guts to sneak into my room without permission?”

“I have a dragon. I go wherever I want,” Rhaegar replied, tilting his chin defiantly.

“Hmph, looks like you’re asking for a lesson.”

Rhaenyra wasn’t about to let her disobedient little brother off easily. She pinched both of his cheeks and tugged them back and forth.

Rhaegar’s face turned red and swollen as he struggled to fight back.

But he was no match for his sister’s strength. His efforts were in vain.

After tormenting him for a while, Rhaenyra finally felt satisfied and let go. She pulled him onto the bed.

With a few quick motions, she stripped him of his outer robe and hugged him. Curious, she asked, “Where did you get this black cloak?”

“Isn’t this what bad guys wear?”

Rhaegar squirmed around, trying to find a comfortable position.

“Heh, are you a bad guy?” Rhaenyra chuckled at his response.

Rhaegar blinked and burrowed into his sister’s embrace, hesitating. “I… don’t know.”

“Then you’re not,” Rhaenyra said, stroking his hair gently. Her tone softened. “You’re my little brother. As long as you come back safely, I’m content.”

Rhaegar didn’t respond, snuggling closer like a spoiled child.

Sensing something was on his mind, Rhaenyra asked, “What’s wrong? You were so energetic during the day, scolding me and all.”

“I was just worried about you,” Rhaegar mumbled defensively.

“Well, I worry about you too,” Rhaenyra replied, her tone turning serious. “You were gone for so many days. Father and I were worried sick.”

“I’m sorry.”

Rhaegar didn’t try to argue. He knew he had lost track of what was important, wasting time on the peninsula.

Rhaenyra’s gaze softened. She kissed his hair and whispered, “It doesn’t matter anymore. What’s important is that you’re back. Just promise me you won’t do it again.”

“Okay…”

Rhaegar nodded slightly, taking the initiative to admit his mistake.

Rhaenyra, feeling a bit uncomfortable from his gesture, blushed and said, “Get some sleep. Talk to Father properly tomorrow.”

“Alright.”

Rhaegar wrapped his arm around her waist, letting the recent turmoil fade away.

Time passed, second by second.

Suddenly, Rhaegar spoke up, “Sister, someone said I might hurt you...”

Rhaenyra, too drowsy to open her eyes, hugged him a little tighter and mumbled, “That won’t happen. We rely on each other.”

“Alright…”

---

Night passed, and dawn came.

When Rhaegar opened his eyes, he saw his sister sitting at the dressing table, brushing her long hair.

Still groggy, he couldn’t help but smile slightly.

“Leaving the peninsula feels so good!”

He was back in his family’s embrace.

Noticing he was awake, Rhaenyra urged him to get up and dress so they could eat breakfast together.

As Rhaegar finished dressing, a knock came from the door.

A steady voice, belonging to Ser Harrold, followed: “Princess, is Prince Rhaegar in your room?”

Rhaenyra glanced curiously at the door and replied, “Yes, Ser. Is something the matter?”

“The King wishes to speak with the Prince directly,” Harrold said calmly.

Rhaenyra turned to Rhaegar, her eyes full of questions.

Rhaegar shrugged, indicating he had no idea what it was about.

“Go on, comfort Father a bit. He’s not in the best health,” Rhaenyra reminded him gently.

Rhaegar nodded, stood on tiptoe to kiss his sister’s cheek, and left the room energetically.

Rhaenyra chuckled to herself and continued getting ready.

---

Stepping out, Rhaegar followed Harrold to his father’s door.

Just as he was about to knock, a door across the hall opened.

Alicent, attended by her maid, walked out gracefully.

Their eyes met unavoidably.

Alicent raised her chin slightly, said nothing, and walked past him briskly.

Rhaegar smirked faintly and then knocked on the door, entering his father’s chambers.

Harrold shut the door and remained stationed outside.

The moment Rhaegar walked in, the strong scent of alcohol hit him, making him wrinkle his nose.

Viserys was sitting in a chair by a round table, his face flushed from drinking, though his eyes were sharp and clear.

Rhaegar glanced at the floor, noticing several empty bottles scattered messily—evidence of a drunken night.

Adjusting to the unpleasant smell, Rhaegar walked closer and asked, “Father, what did you want to discuss with me?”

He assumed it would be about the recent trip to the peninsula or arrangements for the Free Folk—nothing more than routine matters.

Viserys placed both hands on the table and spoke bluntly: “Rhaegar, do you want to be my heir?”

“What… What?”

Rhaegar froze, stunned, thinking he must have misheard.

“I want to change the line of succession and make you the new heir,” Viserys said, even more straightforwardly.

“No! Rhaenyra is the heir. That was declared to the realm long ago,” Rhaegar rejected immediately.

He quickly walked to his father’s side, looking at him earnestly. “Did someone say something to you, Father?”

Viserys had always firmly supported Rhaenyra as his heir. He wouldn’t suggest such a drastic change without reason.

Someone must have influenced him.

Viserys, haunted by a dream he had long pursued, had shifted his heart.

---

(End of Chapter)

Chapter 102: I Can’t!

“Rhaegar, my child, no one has clouded my judgment.”

Viserys smiled faintly as he looked at his eager eldest son, taking one of his hands gently.

Rhaegar asked in confusion, “Then why do you wish to change the line of succession? Rhaenyra hasn’t done anything wrong. I was the one who secretly tamed a dragon. I was the one who instigated a dragon duel, fell into a trap, and ended up stranded on the peninsula.”

He couldn’t understand it.

It was clearly his mistake. Rhaenyra had only sought to bring him back, even if it meant defying their father’s orders. She didn’t deserve such a heavy punishment.

“You’re wrong, Rhaegar.”

Viserys shook his head, his tone earnest. “I’m not considering changing the succession because I blame Rhaenyra; it’s because I have deeper plans.”

“You are my eldest son. By birthright, the position of heir has always belonged to you. That’s indisputable.”

“When you were a baby, you fell into a coma and were unfit to bear the weight of responsibility. That’s why I chose Rhaenyra as my heir, entrusting her with the duties that should have been yours.”

Rhaegar met his father’s gaze and urged, “Rhaenyra has carried that responsibility. She has served the family well. You shouldn’t take that away from her.”

“But she is a girl!”

Viserys’s tone grew sharp, his expression serious. “Those who oppose her far outnumber those who support her.”

“I will support her! I have a full-grown dragon. Anyone who dares oppose her will taste dragonfire!”

Rhaegar’s expression shifted, his voice filled with unwavering resolve.

“A full-grown dragon? Such bravado, as if it could conquer an entire army,” Viserys scoffed, looking down at his son, whose head barely reached the height of the table.

“It’s no laughing matter. Glutton defeated Vermithor and Silverwing. It’s the strongest dragon apart from Vhagar!”

Rhaegar, having endured numerous trials, was brimming with confidence in himself and his dragon, Glutton.

“A full-grown dragon is indeed powerful,” Viserys said calmly. “But remember, Aegon the Conqueror commanded three dragons when he attempted to conquer Dorne. Yet, he lost a queen and a dragon, and still failed.”

“That was just bad luck for Queen Rhaenys. A scorpion bolt accidentally struck Meraxes in the eye,” Rhaegar retorted, well-versed in history and the reasons behind that failure.

“And yet, she died. Her dragon died. And the conquest of Dorne ended in failure,” Viserys countered, gripping Rhaegar’s hand firmly. His tone was resolute. “Rhaegar, you must understand: overreliance on dragons only breeds fear. True power lies in winning hearts.”

“And have you succeeded in winning hearts?” Rhaegar shot back, unimpressed.

Rebellions plagued the kingdom year after year.

The ironborn raided the coasts, the pirates of the Stepstones had only just been subdued, and Dorne’s borders remained restless.

These were the results of his father’s so-called control over hearts.

“Maegor rode Balerion, the most powerful dragon in history, yet his cruelty sparked countless rebellions and led to his death on the Iron Throne,” Viserys said bluntly. “Do you think your black dragon is stronger than Balerion? Or that you, at your age, are mightier than the war-hardened Maegor?”

Rhaegar fell silent.

He knew he was no match for Maegor or the partnership between Maegor and Balerion.

He was still young, and Glutton had not yet reached its prime at a hundred years old.

Viserys placed a hand on his son’s head, his voice soft. “Perhaps you can protect your sister. But in what capacity?”

“I’m the prince of the realm. I can serve on the Small Council or become a prince-consort,” Rhaegar said, having already thought about his future.

“A noble character, but a naïve notion,” Viserys remarked, a trace of sadness flickering in his eyes. He continued quietly, “Once, Daemon and I were like you and Rhaenyra—close, inseparable, always watching each other’s backs.”

“We were the best of brothers!”

“Before the Great Council of 101 AC, I competed with my cousin, Rhaenys, for the Iron Throne’s succession.”

“At that time, Daemon wielded Dark Sister and declared he would wage war against anyone who stood in my way of ascending the throne.”

“You didn’t see him then—how spirited, how brave he was.”

“It was thanks to Daemon’s unwavering support that your great-grandfather Jaehaerys realized the urgency of the succession crisis and convened the Great Council of 101.”

“At that council, I defeated Rhaenys in a landslide vote of 20 to 1, becoming the new heir.”

Tears welled in Viserys’s eyes as he spoke, his tone sincere. “Rhaegar, look at the wreckage of my relationship with Daemon now. Can you and Rhaenyra truly maintain your bond of kinship for a lifetime?”

Rhaegar couldn’t bear his father’s gaze and lowered his head. “There has to be a way…”

“Of course, I proposed a solution for Rhaenyra,” Viserys said, his tone shifting. He leaned in and whispered, “I suggested that you both follow our family’s tradition.”

“Really?”

Rhaegar’s head shot up, his eyes wide with disbelief as he stared at his father.

Viserys nodded. “Yes.”

“Did she agree?”

Rhaegar tried to lower his voice, his attention fixed intently on his father.

“No!”

Viserys shook his head and laughed softly. “She hasn’t given me an answer yet. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be having this conversation with you today.”

Rhaegar withdrew the hand his father was holding and took a step back silently.

His heart was in turmoil, and he unconsciously swallowed hard.

He couldn’t quite grasp his feelings at the moment.

There was a mix of relief and disappointment…

But no matter what, a shadow hung over his heart.

He couldn’t help but recall the words spoken to him by the falcon and sapphire on the peninsula.

Rhaenyra would have her own husband and children.

His position in the line of succession was higher than Rhaenyra’s. He would become an obstacle to her…

“Am I going to become another Daemon?”

For a long while, Rhaegar steadied himself and murmured to himself.

Viserys shook his head and said firmly, “No! You are Rhaegar, my firstborn, the prince in the prophecy. You will not lose your honor and self-respect like Daemon.”

As he spoke, he placed his hands firmly on Rhaegar’s shoulders and said with utmost seriousness, “You will become the heir to the Iron Throne, standing at the top of the pyramid, overlooking the masses.”

“Father, I’m not ready!”

Rhaegar seemed dazed as he pushed his father’s hands away. Stepping back, he muttered, “These are just your words. Daemon’s downfall was of his own making. I won’t…”

“Won’t what? Won’t have anyone supporting your ascent to the Iron Throne? Or won’t have anyone opposing Rhaenyra?”

Viserys did not get angry. Instead, he smiled faintly and said, “You’ve already accepted the allegiance of the nobles from the peninsula. That’s a privilege no prince should have had.”

“Father, at this moment, you remind me exactly of the nobles on the peninsula when they asked me to accept their allegiance.”

“You both make me hesitate and question my own principles.”

Rhaegar took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down, and said earnestly, “I cannot harm Rhaenyra. She would hate me, and I would hate myself.”

With that, he turned and walked out, unwilling to stay a moment longer.

Viserys did not stop him, his tone still calm. “It’s inevitable. You’ll have to face the choice someday.”

“Then let that day come when Rhaenyra no longer tolerates my presence in King’s Landing.”

Without turning back, Rhaegar pushed open the door and left, his mind intent on cooling down.

Daemon truly was a dual-sided character. He revered his brother Viserys but was deeply obsessed with power.

This book doesn’t delve deeply enough into Daemon’s story, nor does it offer a comprehensive portrayal.

To be called George R.R. Martin’s “favorite son,” the rogue prince must have had something extraordinary about him.

(End of Chapter)

*Chapter 103: Is It Rhaegar?*

Bang!  

The door slammed shut with a heavy thud.

Viserys sat on his chair, rubbing his temples with his eyes closed, letting out a weary sigh.

Creak!  

The door opened again, and Harold's voice broke the silence. “Your Grace, the prince has been under the princess’s care since he was young. Your proposal is too abrupt and cruel for him.”

“He has to face it eventually.”

Viserys lowered his head. “Rhaenyra is soft-hearted and lacks foresight. If she were to inherit the Iron Throne, it would do neither her nor the realm any good.”

“And yet, you chose the princess back then,” Harold replied with a hint of resignation.

“Yes, because she’s so much like me. We are a pair of weak father and daughter,” Viserys said with bitter self-mockery, his lips curling into a faint, self-deprecating smile.

Mastering the art of leadership? What nonsense.  

He spoke this way to mask his mediocrity and indecisiveness.

Deep down, he yearned to be like his brother Daemon or his eldest son Rhaegar—strong, fearless leaders who dared to wield the sword without hesitation.

But he was born with a gentle and pliant nature.

His life, filled with smooth sailing and an almost undeserved throne, had taken him to the pinnacle without much effort.

Everything had come too easily.

His grandfather, Jaehaerys, had little time left to instill in him the courage to say “no.”

Now, he wanted a resolute and valiant ruler to succeed him.

To restore the Targaryen family’s former glory.

And the only person fit for that role was his eldest son, Rhaegar.

After a moment of contemplation, Viserys waved his hand weakly and said, “Bring Rhaenyra here. Tell her I have something to discuss with her.”

Harold glanced at the troubled expression on the king's face, nodded, and replied, “Yes, Your Grace.”

---

Rhaegar walked quickly down the corridor, his thoughts a chaotic mess. Without realizing it, he had left the castle entirely.

When he finally came to his senses, he found himself standing at the cliff's edge.

“Hiss... Grr...”

Sensing its rider’s presence, the black dragon, Caraxes, let out a low growl, tilting its massive head to look at him, puzzled.

It could feel the fear in him.

This wasn’t like the young man it knew.

Rhaegar gazed at the towering, pitch-black dragon before him, panting heavily. “Take me for a ride, buddy.”

Caraxes rose, flicking its tail to wrap around his waist, lifting him onto its back.

“Hiss... Grr...”

It let out a roar, flapped its mighty wings, and launched itself into the sky, soaring high above the clouds.

A flight around the skies—so simple, yet so freeing.

The sky and sea had a way of washing away all confusion.

---

Inside the castle.

Rhaenyra had finished freshening up and was heading to the dining hall for breakfast.

Sitting across from her was the visibly weary Alicent.

Rhaenyra nibbled on her bread calmly, her expression indifferent.

Alicent, on the other hand, sat there without appetite, occasionally sneaking glances at Rhaenyra.

She opened her mouth several times but stopped herself each time.

Rhaenyra suppressed a smirk. This former friend of hers certainly knew how to put on a show.

She had no idea what Alicent had gone through the night before, instinctively assuming her behavior was part of some ploy.

“Princess, the king has summoned you to discuss something important.”

As breakfast was nearing its end, Harold descended the stairs and spoke softly.

Rhaenyra dabbed her mouth with a cloth and asked, “Where’s Rhaegar? Has he had breakfast?”

“Not yet. The prince stepped out on urgent business,” Harold replied with a forced smile before adding hesitantly, “You should see the king first. It’s something of great importance.”

“Very well, Ser Harold.”

Rhaenyra frowned slightly in confusion as she rose from the table.

---

Shortly after, Rhaenyra entered her father’s chambers.

Viserys had been waiting for some time. Upon seeing her, he greeted her with a warm smile. “Come, sit, Rhaenyra.”

“You wanted to see me?”

Rhaenyra slowly approached, pulling out a chair to sit opposite her father.

Seeing the awkward, almost ingratiating smile on his face, her sense of unease grew stronger.

Viserys poured himself a cup of wine, downing half of it in one gulp. He chuckled briefly, then lowered his head, struggling to find the words.

Rhaenyra’s eyes glimmered with suspicion as a troubling thought crossed her mind.

She pressed her lips together and said softly, “If Rhaegar returns safely, what about the choice you promised me...”

“No! We’re not discussing your marriage today.”

Viserys quickly interrupted, afraid that his daughter might reveal her decision.

Rhaenyra let out a sigh of relief and chuckled lightly. “If it’s not about that, then what could be troubling you so much?”

She naively thought her father was about to urge her to marry.

For that reason, she had already secretly made a choice.

Facing his daughter’s question, Viserys raised his head, looked her in the eyes, and spoke with difficulty. “Rhaenyra, I believe Rhaegar is a fine boy. He’s brave and clever.”

“Of course, while Rhaegar can be a bit unruly, he always has a plan in mind.”

At the mention of her brother, Rhaenyra couldn’t help but smile.

He was the only blood relative her mother had left her.

And he would be her greatest support.

Hearing her daughter’s words, particularly the phrase “a bit unruly,” Viserys’ expression subtly changed, and he drained his wine in one gulp.

“Rhaenyra, you are a smart and kind girl. Have you ever felt that the responsibility of being the heir has made it hard for you to breathe?”

Viserys maintained a faint smile, cautiously testing the waters with his question.

“Sometimes, yes, but you’ve always supported me, and Rhaegar has been helping me too. I’m so fortunate to have both of you,” Rhaenyra answered, clasping her hands over her abdomen and smiling warmly.

Her words felt like a dagger stabbing into Viserys’ chest.

He struggled to breathe, feeling as if the air had been knocked out of him.

“The dream keeps appearing—Rhaegar is the prince that was promised. A decision must be made!”

Repeating this thought to himself, Viserys gathered his courage and forced his stiff lips to move.

Bang—

The goblet landed heavily on the table. Viserys straightened his face and said seriously, “Rhaenyra, to be honest with you, the reason I called you here is to discuss the matter of changing the heir.”

Finally expressing what he had been holding back, Viserys outwardly appeared composed, but internally, he was relieved.

At least he had said it to her face.

Even though this truth was like a sharp knife that would hurt his daughter, it was better than keeping it hidden.

“...”

Rhaenyra froze in place upon hearing his words, disbelief filling her eyes. She seemed to stop breathing.

What had she just heard?

Her father, who had always supported her, was talking about changing the heir.

She was to be replaced!

Viserys stood up for the first time that morning, walking quickly to her side, and said awkwardly, “Rhaenyra, I know this might be hard for you to accept at first. After all, you’ve been the heir for six years.”

“But your position has always been unstable. I’ve found someone more suitable to succeed me.”

“As your father, I hope you won’t be alarmed. I love you deeply, and this decision is not out of rejection...”

Seeing the expression of his daughter, who was clearly struggling to accept this, Viserys kept trying to console her, attempting to mend the hurt he had caused.

After a long silence, Rhaenyra blinked and seemed to snap out of the shock.

She lifted her head, staring directly at her father.

There was no anger, no tears, no hysterics—none of the reactions he had expected.

Rhaenyra was calm. She placed one hand over her chest, which was rising and falling rapidly, trying to steady her emotions.

With the other hand, she grasped her father’s, forcing a smile and asking, “Father, is that person Rhaegar?”

Rhaenyra had already resolved to let go of her claim to the throne in favor of Rhaegar. The bond between brother and sister was unbreakable.

(End of Chapter)

*Chapter 104: Dreams of the Future*

Dragonstone Island, coastline.

A pitch-black dragon soared through the skies, weaving between the sea of clouds.

After wandering for a while, it returned to the cliffside and landed gracefully.

Rhaegar lay on the dragon's back, eyes closed, feeling the cool breeze brushing against him.

“Hiss…”

The Glutton let out a low croon, its massive body lowering to the ground, curling its head and tail together, preparing to sleep.

Rhaegar remained lying down, his eyes shut, gradually drifting into slumber.

It didn’t take long for him to begin dreaming.

He dreamed of Dragonstone Island, the castle not far away from where he lay.

In the dream, he saw his sister, Rhaenyra.

She was being held by a group of people, their blades slicing her skin, staining the hem of her gown with blood.

She struggled, screamed, and cursed loudly, though Rhaegar couldn’t hear what she was saying.

He watched the scene helplessly from a third-person perspective, bewildered.

“Hiss…”

Suddenly, a dragon's maw lunged forward, clamping down on Rhaenyra’s shoulder. The sharp teeth tore through her body in an instant, ripping half of her apart.

“Ahh!”

“My brother, I curse you! You will fall into the seven hells!”

The immense pain contorted Rhaenyra's face as she screamed hoarsely, her curses aimed at the one who had wronged her.

Rhaegar heard her curse clearly.

She was cursing her brother.

His consciousness began to awaken, the dream collapsing around him.

In the final moments of the dream, he saw Rhaenyra being devoured by the dragon, her body torn piece by piece, swallowed whole.

Her despairing cries echoed in Rhaegar’s mind.

“No!…”

The horrifying image of his sister’s brutal death jolted Rhaegar awake, and he shouted in terror.

“Roar…”

The only response was the gentle wind, the sound of crashing waves, and the snores of the massive dragon beneath him.

Rhaegar looked around. The blue skies and white clouds were serene, a stark contrast to the darkness of his dream.

“A dream… it was just a dream!”

His chest heaved as he muttered to himself, trying to distinguish between the dream and reality.

Cold sweat dotted his forehead. He wiped it away, his skin icy to the touch.

Taking deep breaths, Rhaegar slowly calmed himself, pulling himself out of the terror of the dream.

“When did I fall asleep? And why would I have such a nightmare?”

Rhaegar held his head in his hands, his heart still racing with fear.

He couldn’t believe he had fallen asleep on the dragon’s back.

Even more, he couldn’t fathom having such a horrifying dream.

Rhaenyra was his closest family, his only sister.

And yet, in the dream, she had been gruesomely devoured by a dragon.

The most haunting part was her anguished screams as she cursed her brother.

Rhaegar stared at his hands, uneasy. “That person… could it be me?”

Was it him who fed Rhaenyra to the dragon?

“No! It’s absolutely not me!”

After a moment of thought, Rhaegar’s gaze sharpened. His determination to protect his sister grew even stronger.

“Rhaenyra will face danger in the future. This must not come to pass.”

Rhaegar refused to believe that the “brother” Rhaenyra cursed in the dream was him.

Glancing at the sleeping Glutton beneath him, Rhaegar slid down one of the dragon’s wings and headed toward the castle.

He needed to see Rhaenyra and discuss matters with their father.

...

By the time he returned to the castle, Rhaenyra had already been summoned by their father.

Rhaegar asked Ser Cole about her whereabouts, and the response sent a jolt of anxiety through him.

Without further hesitation, he sprinted toward his father’s chambers.

As he approached the doors, Harrold was on guard and spotted him from afar.

“My pri—”

Before Harrold could speak, Rhaegar raised a hand to his lips, signaling for silence.

Harrold, an old and seasoned man, immediately shut his mouth, leaning against the wall and lowering his gaze.

Matters within the royal family were not for him to interfere with.

“Thank you.”

Rhaegar softly expressed his gratitude as he approached the door.

At that moment, he heard Rhaenyra’s voice from within.

“I’ve long anticipated this day, but I never thought it would come so soon!”

Rhaegar frowned slightly, reaching out to push open the door.

Harrold placed his hand on Rhaegar's shoulder.

Rhaegar looked at him in confusion.

Harrold shook his head, his serious gaze signaling him to stay calm for now.

“Rhaenyra, you’re a good girl, but the Iron Throne requires a brave warrior.”

From inside the room came Viserys’s voice.

It was clear that it was a conversation between father and daughter.

Rhaegar thought for a moment, refrained from barging in, and listened carefully.

Rhaenyra’s voice rang out again: “Father, I am also a dragonrider.

"If I had the choice, I’d prefer to be a knight charging into battle rather than a burden in the eyes of the world.”

Viserys replied, “The world’s prejudices are like mountains. They believe you are unfit to be a knight, let alone a queen.”

“That is not a reason for you to replace me. You’ve never listened to such advice before,” Rhaenyra said, her voice low.

“Yes, I’ve never thought you unfit for the Iron Throne because you’re a girl,” Viserys said apologetically.

“I once told you about a dream, didn’t I? A dream of a prince wearing the Conqueror’s crown, changing the world amidst blood and fire.”

“That prince is Rhaegar?” Rhaenyra asked calmly.

“Yes. The night before Rhaegar returned, I recalled that dream. The prince in the dream looked exactly as Rhaegar does now. I couldn’t have been mistaken.”

“What an absurd reason. Just as absurd as when you chose me as your heir,” Rhaenyra said with self-mockery.

“Rhaenyra, Rhaegar is my firstborn son…”

Bang—

Before Viserys could finish, the door was flung open.

The loud noise startled the two inside, and they turned to see Rhaegar standing in the doorway, expressionless.

“Rhaegar, didn’t you leave? Why have you come back?”

Viserys’s expression shifted slightly, his tone reprimanding.

Rhaenyra gazed at her brother’s figure, her delicate face attempting to form a smile several times but failing.

“We are family. I have the right to participate in this discussion.”

Rhaegar strode into the room and turned to close the door firmly behind him.

He walked over to Rhaenyra, taking her hand in his.

Rhaenyra struggled slightly, but Rhaegar refused to let go, holding on tightly.

Her small hand was smooth but cold to the touch.

He looked into Rhaenyra’s face, forcing a smile despite her evident sorrow, and spoke sincerely: “Sister, I will not hurt you, nor do I wish to take what belongs to you.”

Rhaenyra looked back at him, her gaze unable to hide her sadness. She only shook her head.

Their father had made up his mind to strip her of her title as heir. No one could change his decision.

“I’m tired, Rhaegar,” Rhaenyra said softly, tears streaming down her face.

She had thought about anger and venting her frustration.

But that would only lower her standing and make her father despise her even more.

Since the day she became the heir to the throne, she hadn’t known a single day of peace.

Now, her father’s rejection left her utterly exhausted.

She felt pitiful and ridiculous for ever dreaming of sitting on the Iron Throne.

A sense of helplessness overwhelmed her entire being, leaving her with no desire to fight her brother for her position or defend her claim.

Seeing his sister weeping in sorrow, Rhaegar became increasingly anxious. He embraced her briefly.

Then, letting go of her hand, he turned to stand before their father.

“Father, changing the heir is unwise, and I have no intention of shouldering such a heavy burden.”

Rhaegar tried to dissuade his father.

Viserys shook his head. “Things are not as simple as you think, Rhaegar.”

“The Iron Throne needs a strong king to rule, and Rhaenyra is clearly not a decisive person. She would only weaken House Targaryen’s rule rather than strengthen it.”

Rhaenyra’s fate in the original story was truly tragic—eaten alive piece by piece.

Rhaegar did not want the position of heir, but destiny, controlled by the author, left him with no choice.

(End of Chapter)

Chapter 105: Rhaenyra's Terms

"I told you, I can help her. My dragon and I are enough to suppress any dissenters."

Rhaegar firmly refused.

He feared the dream.

He didn’t understand why Rhaenyra had to face such a fate.

But he did know one thing:

As long as he stood steadfastly behind Rhaenyra, disaster could not destroy them.

They were born of fire, unafraid of wind, frost, or rain.

Viserys glared at his eldest son, frustration brewing in his chest.

This insolent brat.

He was offering him the throne!

Daemon had gone so far as to deceive his daughter and conspire to harm his eldest son for the throne.

Rhaegar, as the eldest son and the first in line to the Iron Throne, wasn’t even slightly tempted by Rhaenyra’s position?

Perhaps.

But it didn’t matter. Rhaegar was still too young and had not yet tasted the allure of power.

Sooner or later, he would understand the importance of being an heir.

Viserys sneered coldly and declared with authority:

"My decision to name you as crown prince is not a suggestion—it is an order for you and Rhaenyra!"

"No one can refuse the king’s command!"

Rhaegar spread his hands, meeting his father’s gaze stubbornly.

"I refuse. You can’t force the title of heir on me."

"You would even defy my command, Rhaegar?"

Viserys raised an eyebrow, his expression growing darker.

"If your command involves harming Rhaenyra to elevate me, then yes, I would." Rhaegar’s face was resolute.

"Very well. You and your sister both disregard your father and king. You are both incredibly bold."

Watching Rhaegar stand up for Rhaenyra, Viserys seemed provoked, a flicker of cruelty flashing in his eyes.

He turned his ire on Rhaenyra.

"Rhaenyra, your brother has learned your defiance, and that is the quality I despise the most."

Rhaenyra averted her face, lowering her head in silence.

She was merely a pawn in the game of power—a victim of this family meeting.

She didn’t want to say a word.

Because she knew, no matter what she said, it would be wrong.

On one side was her father, eager to replace her. On the other, her brother, trying to protect her.

Caught in the middle, she felt like she was standing at a crossroads, overwhelmed by confusion and helplessness about her future.

Viserys’s gaze returned to Rhaegar, his voice cold:

"My will is not to be defied. If you disobey my command, you will bear regrets you cannot endure."

Rhaegar’s eyes were filled with confusion, unable to comprehend.

Viserys spoke calmly:

"As the crown prince, Rhaenyra’s marriage has always been a significant issue.

Now, she is no longer the heir. She will marry as a princess in a political alliance."

"Velaryon’s Laenor, Lannister’s Jason or Tyland, or even Dorne’s Prince Martell—any of them would be a good choice."

Hearing this, both Rhaegar and Rhaenyra’s expressions changed dramatically.

They stared in disbelief at the father who had always seemed kind.

Faced with her marriage being used as a bargaining chip, Rhaenyra reacted furiously, her voice trembling with grief:

"You have the right to replace me as heir, but why torment your suffering daughter who has already lost her throne?"

"If you hadn’t hesitated so long, none of this would have happened!"

Viserys hardened his heart, determined to teach his disobedient children a lesson.

Of course, he would never truly use Rhaenyra as a tool for marriage alliances.

She was his daughter, the eldest child of his late wife, Aemma Arryn.

But to ensure Rhaegar complied, a little intimidation was necessary.

And it worked.

The effect was extraordinary.

Rhaegar stood frozen, staring at his father with uncertainty.

It was hard to imagine the father who always wore a kind smile being so ruthless.

Rhaegar felt a wave of helplessness rise in his heart.

For the first time, he truly understood the weight of absolute power.

After a long moment, he finally spoke, his voice strained:

"Father, why must I inherit the Iron Throne?"

He was genuinely puzzled as to why his father was so insistent on making him the heir.

"Because you are the prince of prophecy, the rightful first in line to the throne. You are destined to sit upon the Iron Throne," Viserys replied matter-of-factly.

"You tamed the largest wild dragon in history on your own, subdued nobles and wildlings on the Wandering Isles, and with your lineage—how could you not become the heir?"

He was convinced that Rhaegar was the prophesied prince, the one who could lead House Targaryen to its zenith.

Rhaegar hesitated for a moment before replying:

"Father, if you want peace in the realm, I can serve as Warden of the Realm.

If you want House Targaryen’s glory restored, I can defeat the pirates of the Stepstones and the Ironborn of the Iron Islands...

I can even ride my dragon to conquer Dorne and fully unite the Seven Kingdoms under Targaryen rule.

If that’s still not enough, I could bring the Free Cities, Slaver’s Bay, and the entire continent of Essos under our control..."

---

"Even if it takes my entire life, I will reclaim these lands and return them to the rule of the Dragon King family."

With these words, Rhaegar glanced back at Rhaenyra cautiously and said, "But first, please don’t disregard Rhaenyra. Give me some time—I’ll grow up soon..."

"Please, I’m begging you!"

A heartfelt plea from a six-year-old child, devoid of any pretense or falsehood.

Whether the determined king was moved was yet to be seen.

However, the young girl behind him was already in tears, her face buried in her hands as she failed to stop the steady stream of tears. She stood motionless, gazing at her little brother, who barely reached her waist.

"Sigh..."

Watching his eldest son resist with all his heart, Viserys felt deeply troubled and let out a heavy sigh.

He turned to Rhaenyra and hesitantly asked, "Rhaenyra, what do you think?"

His and his eldest son’s positions were already clear.

Now, it was Rhaenyra’s turn to weigh in, standing at the center of the storm.

"The right to inherit belongs to Rhaegar. I will return it to him, just as he supported me, I will support him," Rhaenyra said without hesitation, choking back her sobs.

At this point, the title of heir was no longer important.

Rhaegar’s heartfelt words left her with no choice but to feel content, even if she had been reluctant. It was enough.

"Rhaenyra!"

Rhaegar shouted in protest.

Rhaenyra shook her head firmly, her voice trembling. "Rhaegar, from the moment I became heir, I’ve been fighting against prejudice."

"I wanted to be a beloved queen, to abolish unfair rules and create a new order."

"But I lack the wisdom of Queen Visenya, and I’m not even as composed and perceptive as Aunt Rhaenys."

"You’re my little brother. I can’t let you sacrifice your life to fulfill my ideals."

She may not have extraordinary wisdom, but she wasn’t blind.

Rhaegar was better than her—more suitable to be the heir.

What’s more, Rhaegar’s words were entirely out of consideration for her, his sister.

She couldn’t take his sacrifices for granted or selfishly claim his entire life for herself.

At this moment, she, too, had to protect her younger brother.

Rhaegar’s eyes turned red as he whispered, "Rhaenyra..."

"Don’t get emotional just yet. I have my own conditions," Rhaenyra said as she wiped her tears and pulled him into a tight embrace. She locked eyes with her father and declared, "As compensation for my concession, you must agree to my terms."

Viserys stood silently, leaning on the round table for support.

It was as if he and the two young women existed in separate realms.

He was lost in thought, questioning whether it was right to revoke his daughter’s status as heir and replace it with his eldest son.

This tendency to doubt himself was entirely in line with his character.

Whenever faced with a difficult decision, he would fall into self-doubt.

Hearing his daughter’s words brought him back to his senses. His eyes looked dazed for a moment.

It wasn’t until Rhaenyra repeated herself that he fully understood.

He nodded repeatedly, smiling with a touch of flattery. "Of course. I’ve already thought about how to make it up to you."

---

*(End of Chapter)*