Rhaenys remained composed, glancing at Daemon, who seemed to be enjoying the show, before stepping forward to greet her nephew.
"Corlys is still outside. You men can talk amongst yourselves."
"Then I'll take the liberty."
Rhaegar was tactful—besides, he hadn't eaten dinner yet.
…
"Brother, what brings you here?"
Young Daeron's face lit up with excitement. He wiggled his hips and ran over like a cat that had just caught the scent of fish.
Baela and Rhaena followed behind him.
Seeing Rhaegar seated at the dining table, their eyes brightened, and they eagerly stepped forward to greet him.
They chirped away, their voices pleasant and lively.
Surrounded by the children, Rhaegar caught a whiff of the dragon stench clinging to him and sighed helplessly.
"You should really stay away from me, or you'll all end up reeking like dragons."
"It's fine, I don't mind!"
Daeron grinned foolishly, scratching his head as he plopped down in the seat beside him.
With a little shove, he took Baela's spot just as she was about to sit.
Baela's eyes widened, and she raised her hand, ready to give him a couple of solid punches.
"Shh, shh—"
Rhaena quickly pulled her back, giving up her own seat in an act of self-sacrifice to protect her brother.
Rhaegar watched with interest, amused by Baela's feisty nature.
Turning away, he saw Daemon whispering to a male servant who was setting the table. Interrupting, he asked, "Have you considered training Baela in combat?"
Daemon looked puzzled, dismissing the servant with a wave before turning back to Rhaegar.
"Like that foolish girl, Helaena?"
"She's not foolish!"
Rhaegar emphasized seriously, ruffling Baela's hair.
"She's your heir and a dragonrider. Learning some martial skills will help her protect herself."
Daemon scoffed.
"Do as you please. My two daughters are practically being raised by you and Rhaenyra anyway."
Rhaegar frowned slightly and glanced at Baela and Rhaena's expressions.
Rhaena simply smiled, watching the conversation between her father and cousin.
Baela, on the other hand, looked disgruntled. She let out a heavy huff and turned away, ignoring her father.
Taking note of this, Rhaegar silently nodded.
"Alright, I'll oversee her training."
He had the impression that his dear uncle wasn't particularly invested in the future of his two daughters.
It wasn't that Daemon didn't care for them—he just seemed to have an indifferent, hands-off approach to their upbringing.
"I'll have Rhaenyra give them proper lessons. We can't let such promising talent go to waste."
Rhaegar remained calm as he played with the three children, his mind already formulating a plan.
…
As the dishes were served, candlelight flickered across the table.
Rhaenys sat next to Laena, occasionally inquiring about the feat of herding the dragon flock.
The dragonkeepers at the Dragonpit could issue simple commands to dragons, such as guiding them in and out of the pit, feeding them, and keeping them calm.
But using a single whip to drive several fully grown dragons into flight? That was unheard of.
"Rhaegar, is this whip an actual tool for taming dragons?"
Rhaenys propped her elbow on the table, leaning in to examine the dragon-whip lying before her nephew.
It was pitch black, covered in barbs from end to end, and had a handle forged from Valyrian steel.
Clearly, it was no ordinary object.
Rhaegar made no attempt to hide its purpose.
"The dragonlords of Old Valyria had many secret tools for taming dragons—this is just one of them."
Daemon's eyes gleamed with curiosity.
"I've read in the libraries of Pentos that some Valyrian families possessed a horn capable of controlling dragons."
"That's just a legend."
Laena sighed, shaking her head.
"After the Doom of Valyria, the historical records that remain are difficult to verify."
During their years in the Free Cities, Daemon had spent a great deal of time in libraries, drowning himself in tales of the dragonlords.
He ignored Laena's skepticism, his gaze fixed on Rhaegar with a burning intensity—he was desperate for more knowledge.
Sensing the anticipation in the room, Rhaegar weighed his reasons for coming here before making a decisive statement.
"There is one. And it's in the Smoking Sea—though ordinary people wouldn't be able to find it."
"The Smoking Sea is extremely dangerous," Rhaenys commented.
Daemon's lips curled into a grin, his eyes glinting with excitement.
"But could you find it? If you entered the Smoking Sea?"
Rhaegar's mind flashed back to his prophetic dreams.
He hesitated, then thought about saying "yes."
With the means he already possessed—
A dragon compass to track young dragons,
A glass candle paired with the Mirror of Illusions to see vast distances,
A rough map of the lands of Long Summer—
Together, these tools would minimize the dangers of the Smoking Sea.
Just as he was about to speak, the door suddenly banged open.
Corlys Velaryon, dressed in travel-worn attire, stepped inside.
He glanced around the room and greeted them,
"Apologies, I was delayed dealing with matters in Hull."
"Lord Corlys, I was just looking for you."
Rhaegar stood, showing his respect, his eyes firm as he stated his purpose.
"There have been sightings of wild dragon hatchlings in the Smoking Sea. I intend to retrieve them—and I need the Velaryon fleet for escort."
Corlys froze, momentarily thinking he had misheard.
"You want to take the Velaryon fleet… into the Smoking Sea?"
Was this a joke?
The Smoking Sea was one of the most dangerous regions in the world.
Even during his Nine Voyages, Corlys had always steered clear of it.
As the saying went in Hull:
"A wise sailor flees long before the storm arrives."
Rhaegar naturally understood the dangers involved, but he still insisted, "A young dragon cannot be abandoned. Besides, there is a special herb in the Smoky Sea that can alleviate my father's comatose state."
"With all due respect, this is an unrealistic decision."
The Sea Snake sighed helplessly and stated matter-of-factly, "The Smoky Sea is very dangerous, but for the sake of the King, there are no cowards in House Velaryon."
House Velaryon had recently strengthened ties with the royal family through marriage, bringing them closer than before.
"However, the Velaryon fleet is not sufficient to explore the Smoky Sea."
The Sea Snake shook his head, revealing his dilemma.
After the wars with the Three Daughters and Dorne, the family's fleet had been reduced to less than one-tenth of its original strength.
The remaining ships were tasked with monitoring the Greenwater River and assisting the Stepstones in blocking the southern half of the Narrow Sea.
There simply were no spare forces to send into the perilous waters of the Smoky Sea.
Rhaegar stroked his chin, pondering how much truth lay in the Sea Snake's words.
The Sea Snake's eyes were sharp and unwavering as he sat calmly in the main seat, gesturing for the prince to sit and dine.
He wasn't lying.
Everyone wanted a young dragon, but one had to have the means to take it.
The risks far outweighed the rewards.
Rhaegar took his seat, exchanging a glance with Daemon.
Daemon was also lost in thought, calculating how much undiscovered treasure lay hidden in the Smoky Sea.
"Rhaegar, I have a suggestion."
Rhaenys suddenly spoke, her expression somewhat complex.
Rhaegar hesitated slightly before humbly responding, "Aunt, please speak."
His sincerity gave Rhaenys confidence. She straightened her slightly curved back, the fine lines at the corners of her eyes briefly smoothing out. "Rather than a young dragon, your priority should be to inherit your father's throne as soon as possible and resolve the lingering issues after the war."
Rhaegar hesitated briefly, wanting to argue that exploring the Smoky Sea was partly for his father's sake.
But as the words reached his lips, they felt empty and meaningless. He chose instead to listen.
Seeing that he did not interrupt, a glimmer of relief flashed in Rhaenys's eyes. "Your father relies too much on the Small Council. Many important matters have been handled carelessly. You must be prepared to take over a mess."
Rhaegar did not refute her words.
He had already noticed the flaws in the Small Council and was planning to make sweeping reforms once he ascended the throne.
But Rhaenys was not finished.
She cast a discreet glance at Daemon before carefully broaching another matter. "And how do you plan to handle your situation with Lady Jeyne? The entire Vale knows she is with child."
Rhaegar's lips felt dry as he replied, "I have renegotiated the 'Exception Clause' with the Faith of the Seven."
"Hm?"
Rhaenys raised an eyebrow and shrugged.
Rhaegar fell silent.
Daemon had been watching the entire conversation, his brow lifting slightly before he let out a quiet chuckle.
Laena gave him a sharp look.
Daemon: …
He turned away and took a swig of his wine, suddenly disinterested.
After this string of direct and pressing questions, Rhaegar's mind felt muddled.
A sudden thought struck him, and he locked eyes with Daemon.
In Daemon's gaze, Rhaegar saw greed.
Daemon also wanted the young dragon and the treasures of the Smoky Sea.
After a brief moment of contemplation, Rhaegar came up with a plan that balanced risk and reward.
He would allocate a portion of the Velaryon fleet to patrol the Smoky Sea region.
If Daemon wanted to enter the Smoky Sea, he could do so by patrolling it on dragonback.
Fortunately, Tyrosh was full of mercenaries willing to work for coin.
With a clear plan in mind, Rhaegar spoke decisively: "Then we will seal off the Smoky Sea. No one shall enter."
Daemon immediately took the bait and asked, "Aren't you afraid someone will sneak in and steal the young dragon?"
"I will personally select the patrols."
Rhaegar raised an eyebrow meaningfully.
Daemon remained silent, not rushing to take on the task.
The Sea Snake, on the other hand, was generous and agreed immediately. "I will send men to seal off the Smoky Sea and ensure that any intrusion is reported at once."
"It's settled."
Rhaegar slammed his hand on the table in decision.
Thinking of the many affairs awaiting him in King's Landing, he couldn't help but sigh. "I have to fly back to King's Landing soon."
Daemon swirled his wine, watching the liquid coat the glass before downing it in one gulp.
—
Night fell, and the sky was dotted with stars.
King's Landing, the Red Keep.
Creak—
The door to the King's chambers opened, and two Kingsguard knights glanced back.
Rhaegar rubbed his temples and said dryly, "Thank you for your service," before turning to leave.
The Kingsguard did not dare be negligent. "Safe travels, my prince."
Just moments earlier, they had overheard faint conversation from within the chambers.
The heir… was about to ascend the throne!
—
Princess's Chambers.
Creak—
The door was pushed open slightly, and a pair of violet eyes peered inside.
It was quiet and dark.
Outside, Rhaegar felt a twinge of anxiety as he tiptoed into the room.
He passed through the hall; the candlelight was dim.
Lifting the beaded curtain gently, he saw a large, intricately carved bed.
After confirming that the person on the bed had not stirred, Rhaegar let out a breath of relief.
"Good, good. Rhaenyra is asleep."
Otherwise, discussing the matter of taking multiple wives would be… awkward.
"Rhaegar!"
In the dead silence, a clear, cold voice suddenly rang out.
Rhaegar's body stiffened, and he clenched his teeth silently.
Click!
A flickering candlelight illuminated the room, casting a hazy glow over the two figures inside.
Rhaenyra sat quietly by the bedside, holding a candlestick. Her dress was neat and tidy as she gazed at him.
Judging by her demeanor, she had been awake for a while.
Rhaegar stood awkwardly in place, unsure whether to stay or leave.
With an unreadable expression, Rhaenyra patted the space beside her. "Come here."
"Alright."
Rhaegar obediently stepped forward and sat down close beside her, his posture straight yet relaxed.
Taking the candlestick, he glanced around and casually asked, "Where's the baby?"
"Sarella took him to care for him," Rhaenyra replied, rolling her eyes. "And you? Sneaking into my room in the middle of the night—what do you think you're doing?"
Late at night, when she should be sleeping, all she heard was the growl of the Devourer.
She immediately guessed that Rhaegar had returned.
Rhaegar tilted his head and lay down, resting it on her lap, which was wrapped in a red gown. With one arm wrapped around her slender waist, he murmured, "I'm going to ascend the throne."
"Mm, and I'm about to be queen," Rhaenyra responded.
She lifted his chin with her delicate fingers, forcing him to meet her gaze—those slightly melancholic violet eyes.
"Not happy?"
"It's troublesome."
"Plenty of people would love to have such troubles but never get the chance."
Her gaze softened, offering encouragement. "Think carefully about Aegon and Aemond's fiefdoms and how to deal with Daemon's next move."
"Daemon won't get off easy."
Rhaegar was a grudge-holder. He grumbled, "I caught a wild young dragon. There's another one in the Smoking Sea. I want to go, but they won't let me."
Rhaenyra listened silently, gently stroking his face. She knew that Rhaegar wanted to go to the Smoking Sea to find something to heal his father.
A long moment passed before Rhaegar yawned, his drowsiness catching up to him.
He tightened his arms around her soft, slender waist, rubbing his cheek against her as he prepared for a good night's sleep.
"Rhaegar."
"Hmm?"
"You snuck into my room in the middle of the night… just to tell me a story?"
Rhaenyra's voice was soft and sultry, her eyes gleaming with mischief.
"Huh?" Rhaegar's eyes fluttered open.
A swath of red fabric suddenly covered his vision, and the next thing he saw was smooth, pale skin.
"Who said you could sleep?"
Rhaenyra braced herself with both hands behind her, her red gown draping over his face. Her thighs clamped tightly around his head.
Rhaegar's vision went dark.
"Are you afraid I'll be angry?"
Rhaenyra adjusted her position, lifting her hips slightly, her breath growing uneven. "Serve your queen properly!"
"Mmmph—!"
Rhaegar let out a muffled protest, shaking his head in defiance.
He didn't like this.
"Objection overruled!"
Rhaenyra was as domineering as ever. Just like when they were children—always bullying him, always doing strange and mischievous things.
With a firm fist, she knocked him on the head beneath her gown.
Thud!
Rhaegar's eyes welled up with tears.
His body, which had been lying on the bed, was suddenly pushed off, forcing him to kneel on one knee beside it.
How annoying.
Rhaenyra had always been this overbearing, ever since they were kids.
Always bullying him.
Always doing strange, wicked things.
Wiping his tears away against her soft skin, Rhaegar resigned himself to his fate.
"Hiss—!"
Rhaenyra gasped, a shiver running down her spine. Her dainty earlobes flushed a deep shade of rose, her waist instinctively arching backward.
One hand pressed against the bed for support, while the other gripped the fabric of her red gown.
Her thighs squeezed tighter and tighter. A glint of triumphant satisfaction flashed through her enchanting eyes.