The morning mist still clung to the jagged teeth of the Dragonmount when the silence was shattered.
"Hiss!"
Sunfyre surged from the ash-choked earth, his golden wings snapping tight to catch the rising thermals. Behind him, Dreamfyre took a series of heavy, thundering strides, her pale scales shimmering like ghostly silk as she launched into the grey sky. High above the churning waters of the Gullet, the two dragons turned their snouts toward King's Landing. Below, tucked within the hull of a galley flying the three-headed dragon of House Targaryen, Hugh gripped the rail, watching the island of his birth dissolve into the spray as he began his journey into a life of steel and silk.
The flight was mercifully uneventful. No black shadows haunted the clouds this time, and by the time the sun had climbed to its zenith, the Red Keep loomed over the Blackwater like a crouched, crimson beast. Dreamfyre descended toward the domed shadows of the Dragonpit, while Sunfyre, ever restless, chose to coil his glittering length upon the high hills overlooking the city.
Aegon had barely crossed the threshold of his chambers when the door was flung open. Queen Alicent stormed in, her face a pale mask of terror and fury. Seeing Aegon standing whole and hale, she let out a ragged sigh of relief that quickly sharpened into a scold. She reached out, catching his ear in a painful pinch.
"You have truly surpassed your own madness, Aegon!" she hissed, her voice trembling. "To take your brother dragon-taming at his age? Were you so eager to see him roasted into a suckling pig by dragonflame?"
Alicent looked at him with a mixture of heartbreak and exhaustion. She missed the quiet, observant babe he had been; now, at seven, he was a whirlwind of defiance, dragging the four-year-old Aemond into the mouths of monsters.
"Peace, Mother," Aegon said, wincing as he tried to pull away. "I never gamble with stakes I cannot cover. Look at them—they are as safe as if they'd spent the day in the sept."
Alicent's eyes flashed dangerously. "Then explain to me, 'my Prince,' what manner of stone left those jagged furrows in Dreamfyre's belly?"
Aegon's heart skipped. It seemed the ravens from Dragonstone traveled faster than dragonwing. Viserys had already been informed of the skirmish, and the wounds were too precise, too deep to be anything other than the work of a beast of equal stature.
"The stone... it was very sharp," Aegon lied, his eyes wide and guileless. He shot a frantic wink at Helaena, who stood nearby. "Tell her, Helaena. The mountain was treacherous."
Helaena bit her lip, her gaze fixed on the floor. After a long, agonizing silence, she whispered, "Mother... the Blue Queen hit a rock. A very large rock. It was... unfortunate."
The lie was as thin as parchment, and Alicent saw right through it. Before Aegon could double down on his tall tale, the heavy oak doors slammed against the wall with a deafening bang. King Viserys burst in, his face a mottled, royal purple.
"By the Fourteen Flames! Where is the boy?"
Aegon didn't hesitate; he ducked behind Helaena, using his sister as a human shield. "Father! You look... remarkably robust today. Has the court life finally agreed with your constitution?"
Viserys ignored the flattery, his chest heaving. "Robust? I am a man on the edge of a seizure! You left two days ago and return with a scarred dragon and a brother who smells of sulfur! Tell me the truth of the wounds on Dreamfyre!"
"I told Mother," Aegon shouted from behind Helaena's shoulder. "Ask her!"
Alicent turned to her husband, her voice flat. "He claims the dragon was scratched by a stone."
Viserys's eyes nearly bulged from his head. "A stone? Are you telling me the Blue Queen happened to fall upon a rock shaped exactly like the talons of a wild dragon? Twice? In the same spot?"
"It was a very peculiar rock," Aegon insisted, craning his neck. "If you doubt me, ask Helaena. Or ask Dreamfyre herself, if you've mastered the tongue of beasts."
Viserys began to tremble, his fury reaching a boiling point. The insolence, the sheer, unyielding stubbornness of the boy was more than his patience could bear. "Seize him," the King roared, his voice cracking. "Seize the little Prince! Hang him by his heels! He shall learn that a dragon's hide is not the only thing that can be flayed!"
Aegon looked at Helaena and gave a helpless, cheeky shrug as the guards approached. "See? He's lost his humor again."
Three days passed before the world stopped spinning. The afternoon sun streamed through the high windows of the royal apartments, but Aegon remained facedown in his furs. His backside was a map of raw, angry welts—a royal reminder of his father's reach.
"Why the lies, Aegon?" Alicent asked softly, dabbing a cooling salve onto his skin. "Do you truly take your father for a fool? He knew the moment the raven arrived that only the Cannibal could leave such marks."
"I was merely holding out for a miracle," Aegon grunted into his pillow. "I thought perhaps, if I was stubborn enough, the Gods would rewrite the past just to shut me up."
"If you had confessed, the King might have been moved by your bravery. Instead, you gave him cause to beat the insolence out of you."
"Tch." Aegon scoffed, a sound of pure dismissal. Alicent, losing her patience, pressed the salve down with a bit more force than necessary.
"Hiss! Gods be damned, Mother! Are you trying to finish what the King started? Has Aemond bribed you to clear his path to the throne?"
"Hush with that treasonous talk," Alicent said, though she kissed the back of his head. "Your sister Rhaenyra's wedding is upon us. Recover your strength and your dignity. You are to be a Prince of the blood, not a bedridden invalid."
"Fine, fine. On your way out, send for Hugh. I have need of him."
Shortly after the Queen departed, the massive frame of the blacksmith-turned-shield filled the doorway. Hugh looked different; he was dressed in the sturdy leathers of a man-at-arms, though he still carried the scent of woodsmoke.
"You look the part," Aegon remarked, rolling slightly to look at him. "How goes the tutoring with Ser Arryk?"
Hugh looked down at his calloused hands, unsure of how to describe the grueling days of drills and horsemanship. "It is... a different kind of fire, Your Highness. My muscles ache in places I didn't know I had."
"Good," Aegon said, his voice turning serious. "I look forward to the day you are more than a man with a hammer. I need a knight, Hugh. A man who understands that combat is the least of his duties."
"I will not fail you, my Prince," Hugh promised, his voice low and fervent.
"It is not just about the sword," Aegon reminded him. "You must learn the histories, the etiquette of the high halls, the way a lord speaks and breathes. I want a man who can stand in a ballroom as easily as a battlefield. Do not make me regret my investment."
Hugh bowed his head, his eyes burning with the fire of a man who had been given the keys to a kingdom. "I will not put you to shame, Your Highness. On my life."