"Yes, he was killed in an attack last night," Bart said with a heavy heart before extending an invitation, "Prince, please let us host a welcome feast in your honor."
"Your brother's departure makes such festivities unnecessary," Rhaegar said with a gentle shake of his head.
Bart paused for a moment, unsure of what to say.
The middle-aged man accompanying him interjected, "Wells was a fool, and his passing doesn't bother us. A Targaryen prince deserves far more than what he did."
"In that case, maybe we could just take a quick tour of your place?" Rhaegar suggested with a faint smile as he dismounted the dragon.
With the Cannibal stationed outside, Rhaegar remained unfazed by any potential hostility from the assembled group.
His status and the fact that he was there with the dragon meant that he was treated with respect, no doubt about it.
Once he'd dismounted from the dragon's back, Rhaegar was led into the castle by his hosts. The atmosphere was noticeably different from what it had been when Wells was there – no trace of his former arrogance.
Indeed, fools often met an early end, leaving behind survivors who, while not necessarily wise, had a certain level of prudence.
Once they got inside the fortress, Rhaegar acted like a curious kid, asking Bart to show him around.
Dyre Den Castle looked impressive from the outside, but the inside was pretty simple, just a three-story building with strong stone walls.
After his brief exploration, Rhaegar retired to a waiting room to rest.
As he sipped the juice the maid brought him, Rhaegar noticed Bart standing nearby and asked, "Ser, it seems you have something on your mind?"
"Yes, Prince," Bart immediately took the lead in the conversation.
He dropped to one knee, received a sword from his servant, and presented it with reverence, bowing his head as he spoke, "I've heard that House Crabb has pledged allegiance to you."
"I, Bart Brune, representing House Brune, offer you our allegiance as well and await your response."
Rhaegar tasted the grape juice, feigning curiosity as he remarked, "Ser, your brother's death has already made you Lord of Dyre Den?"
To pledge allegiance on behalf of the family required the authority of the lord, a position Bart had not yet officially assumed.
"Not yet, but I've sent a raven to King's Landing with the request and expect an answer soon," Bart replied, his forehead beading with cold sweat.
Setting down his glass, Rhaegar shook his head gently, "I'm afraid, Ser, I cannot accept a lord's allegiance without proper authority, nor can you swear it in your brother's stead."
"Prince..." Bart's disappointment was obvious.
The older man with him stepped in and scolded, "Enough, Bart. The honor of House Brune has already been tarnished by your brother's actions."
Bart bowed his head obediently and refrained from speaking further.
Rhaegar's attention shifted to the middle-aged man, noting that the emblem on his chest differed from House Brune's. It was a brown bear's claw on a white background, bordered by two brown lines.
Unable to recall the origin of the crest, Rhaegar inquired, "Ser, what house do you represent?"
Sorrel Brune left Bart alone and said, "Sorrel Brune. I'm from the Brune branch of knightly families, and our territory is in Brownhollow."
Rhaegar thought for a moment. "I see, the descendants of the Brune brothers, the famous conquerors of Crackclaw Point."
After the meeting, Rhaegar leaned back in his seat and asked, "Ser, could you tell me what the real reason for your invitation is?" He didn't think a simple letter of condolence was the only reason for summoning a prince.
He tightened his smile and spoke solemnly, "This time, it's Bart who's extending the invitation to you, seeking your help in saving House Brune."
"Interesting," Rhaegar's interest was piqued.
Sorrel continued, "Dyre Den is plagued by a curse, born of Wells' folly and greed."
"The ship was from Qarth, but it had no business with House Brune."
"It was returning from Braavos when it fell victim to a storm and washed ashore near Dyre Den, where it was found and rescued by local fishermen."
"Wells, as the lord, questioned the captain and crew when he heard about the valuable cargo on board."
"Driven by greed, Wells orchestrated a night raid on the ship, resulting in the slaughter of the crew and mercenaries, save for one enigmatic figure—a black-robed man in a red mask."
"This man identified himself as a Shadowbinder from the Shadowlands."
Rhaegar's expression changed, "A Shadowbinder! The mysterious figures of folklore?"
"The leader of the raid dismissed it as mere legend and beheaded the Shadowbinder," Sorrel confirmed, his tone serious.
"Did the Shadowbinder's death end the curse?" Rhaegar pressed eagerly, his curiosity burning.
Sorrel hesitated before answering, "Not quite. After the Shadowbinder died, his headless body turned into a shadowy specter."
"It lurked in the darkness, following the soldiers back to Dyre Den, where it continued its deadly rampage, claiming several lives that night.
"For a time, the shadow seemed to disappear, leading Wells to believe that the curse had been lifted.
"But it reappeared and claimed his life."
Sorrel's account of the incident lacked any sense of sadness for the fallen lord. Instead, it was filled with a strong sense of hatred.
"So Wells lied to me. He knew about the Shadow Monster from the beginning," Rhaegar grimaced.
Bart fell to his knees and pleaded, "He didn't want to hide it. Intercepting and killing a passing merchant ship is a crime, and he didn't dare..."
"Since he knew it was a crime, he should not have taken the risk," Rhaegar interrupted sharply.
Apparently, these two brothers were both fools. One was bold enough to face the consequences, while the other was too stubborn to admit when they were wrong.
Rhaegar's anger flared. "The curse was wrought by the crimes of Dyre Den and has stained all of Crackclaw Point. That alone warrants Wells' head a dozen times over. And you, you should be thinking about how to atone for those sins."
"Should we... report this to the king?" A timid woman spoke.
Rhaegar's gaze, lacking warmth, shifted to Bart and Sorrel.
Bart quickly interjected, "She is my brother's wife."
"Do you propose to report this matter?" Rhaegar asked, his tone measured.
After days of nonstop travel, Rhaegar was feeling the effects of his journey. But he just couldn't bring himself to ask his father for help. He figured he could handle this on his own now that he'd mastered the Cannibal. It was his adventure with the dragon.
"Of course not," Sorrel, the oldest and most thoughtful of them, answered first.
Bart quickly followed up, pointing out that House Brune's honor would remain tarnished until the curse was lifted.
Rhaegar shrugged and let out a sigh. "All right, you're wearing me out."
(Word count: 1,147)