The next day dawned with the campfire extinguished and most still recovering from the previous night's revelry. A lacquered white luxury carriage, escorted by silver-armored Kingsguard, slowly left the camp, heading back to King's Landing. The King's family was the first to depart after the Kingswood hunt.
Compared to their arrival, the entourage now included a slightly smaller, more exquisite carriage. Inside, the spacious compartment accommodated several figures. Aemond sat alone, his head hanging down as he picked at his fingers, lost for words.
To his left were the Four Storms of House Baratheon, the four sisters arranged from eldest to youngest. Cassandra, the eldest, occasionally stole glances at Aemond while chatting with her sisters. The king and queen had specially invited the sisters to accompany the royal caravan to give them more time to bond with their prospective marriage partner.
Opposite the Four Storms, Rhaenyra, dressed in black, sat beside Laena, who wore a plain white dress. A dark-skinned girl rested in Laena's arms.
Daemon's family had also joined the caravan back to King's Landing, planning to sail from Blackwater Bay to Dragonstone Island, with Daemon's family returning to Driftmark Island along the way. Rhaenys, however, did not accompany them; she was a guest of her cousin Borros at Storm's End Castle.
As the carriage creaked and clattered along, the atmosphere inside was surprisingly dull. Rhaenyra glanced at Laena, both bored. The main focus should have been on Aemond and the Four Storms, but Aemond's quiet nature and the sisters' reluctance to engage made the situation awkward.
Unable to bear the oppressive silence, Baela, leaning on Rhaenyra's lap, piped up, "Princess, when will my little dragon hatch?" Her question immediately drew everyone's attention.
Baela and Rhaena, both three years old, inherited their mother Laena's exquisite beauty. Baela cradled a green dragon egg, while Rhaena held a black and red one on Laena's lap. Cassandra glanced enviously at the dragon eggs.
Rhaenyra thought for a moment and offered encouragement, "Don't worry, your little dragon will come out of the egg sooner or later."
Baela nodded vigorously, reassured. "Uh-huh."
"Mother, what about my dragon egg?" Rhaena, shy by nature, echoed her sister's query, holding up her egg.
Laena kissed her tenderly and said, "Patience pays off. Your dragon egg will hatch a beautiful baby dragon."
Rhaena smiled shyly, snuggling back with her dragon egg. The Four Storms exchanged glances, envy and jealousy flickering in their eyes.
Cassandra straightened her dress and folded her hands in her lap, her eyes burning with determination as she looked at Aemond. Maris, the second eldest, pulled a handful of colorful candies from her pocket, offering them to Aemond like a peace offering.
The youngest two sisters, still too young to engage directly, sat helplessly, their gazes fixed on the dragon eggs. The simple-minded longing of the four little girls was evident; they yearned for the dragon eggs just as much as their cousins.
...
A day later, in King's Landing, near the River Gate:
Outside the pier, a majestic three-masted royal ship sailed into Blackwater Bay, proudly displaying the flag of the three-headed red dragon.
"Hee hee, come catch me!" A peal of silver-bell laughter rang out, accompanied by a flurry of footsteps.
On the wide deck, a group of children were engrossed in play. Among them were Helaena Targaryen, Aemond, Daeron, Baela, Rhaena, and the Four Storms of Baratheon.
Seventeen-year-old Cassandra, the oldest, tried to join the game, blocking the path of the younger ones. Her sixteen-year-old sister, Maris, stayed close to Aemond, skillfully blending into the game while keeping a keen eye on her target.
"Aemond, we'll compete in swordplay later," Maris suggested.
Helaena, sitting quietly to the side, tended to the youngest Baela sister.
"Yeah," Aemond replied distractedly, not really focusing on Maris' challenge. His mind was preoccupied with his mission and the dream of taming a dragon on Dragonstone Island.
Cassandra's smile faded as she exchanged a look with Maris. Maris frowned, her reluctance evident.
"Go!" Cassandra commanded with a sharp glare.
Not daring to defy her elder sister, Maris reluctantly ran towards Helaena, using the excuse of chasing Daeron.
With her eyes closed, she collided hard into Helaena.
"Bang..."
Helaena, caught off guard, fell, her forehead striking the deck.
"Ah..! That hurts~" she cried out. Luckily, the blanket beneath her softened the impact, though her forehead turned red.
Seeing this, Aemond instantly became furious and rushed forward, "What are you doing, bumping into my sister?"
The force of the collision had also knocked Maris onto the deck. Without the cushion of a blanket, her bare elbows and knees were scraped and bruised.
Aemond pulled her aside as he tried to check on Helaena.
Tears welled up in Helaena's eyes as she clutched her reddened forehead.
"Sister, are you okay?" Aemond asked anxiously, reaching out to touch her.
But then, Helaena's body stiffened, her tearful eyes lost their luster, and in an eerie tone, she said, "The stag's carcass is being eaten!"
With those words, she rose from the blanket and, holding her trembling body, walked towards the cabin.
Aemond stood frozen, bewildered, "Stag carcasses?"
He hesitated, wanting to follow and call out to his sister, but seeing her tense nerves, he withdrew his hand, unsure of what to do.
...
Not long afterward, far away on a dirt road in the Stormlands:
Several Storm Knights carrying the banner of the Baratheon stag led the way, followed by a luxurious carriage. From inside, the Lord's rough and boisterous laughter occasionally echoed.
Inside the carriage were Borros, his wife Elenda, and their guest, Rhaenys. Borros sat in the center, flanked by the two ladies seated opposite each other.
"Cousin, try this delicacy, the foie gras is as tender as cotton," Borros said, devouring the food with knife and fork in hand, taking hearty gulps of wine.
Rhaenys, however, remained calm, showing no appetite. Elenda, noticing her disinterest, attempted to engage her in conversation to pass the time.
As they chatted, an unexpected incident occurred.
Suddenly, Borros's face contorted, and his knife and fork clattered to the floor. Clutching his stomach, he groaned in pain. "Ouch! My stomach!"
Elenda, alarmed, quickly assisted her husband. "What's going on? I told you to eat less; you've been bloated for the last two days."
Borros, a valiant warrior with a hearty appetite, groaned, "It hurts, my stomach feels like it's going to burst."
The pain escalated rapidly. Borros winced, fell to the floor, and began to spasm uncontrollably.
"Borros! Are you okay?" Elenda cried out in panic.
Realizing something was seriously wrong, Rhaenys rushed to the carriage door and shouted, "Someone, the lord is sick! Quickly, call the maester!"
Within moments, Borros was unable to speak, his face turning blue and purple as blood bubbled from his eyes. As the maester arrived and opened the door, Borros stretched his neck, let out a final, agonized roar, and then fell silent.
The maester examined the body, lifting Borros's clothes to reveal a swollen, rock-hard stomach. "The lord is dead," he announced fearfully.
"No! How could this be?" Elenda shrieked, unable to accept her husband's sudden death. "Borros! Wake up! How can you leave me behind?!"
The maester retreated, too frightened to say more.
Rhaenys sat in shock, staring at her cousin's tragic end. After a moment, she regained her composure and called over the maester. "Write a letter to King's Landing, informing them of Borros's death."
"Yes, Princess," the maester replied, trembling as he left the carriage.
Rhaenys leaned back, wiping her wrinkled forehead and taking deep breaths. Borros had died before her eyes. Her gaze fell on Borros's swollen belly, and her eyes narrowed as she murmured, "Just like Uncle Baelon..."
...
Nightfall, Blackwater Bay
The sea was calm, a gentle breeze guiding the royal ship along its course. Inside the cabin, Rhaegar walked down the corridor and knocked on Helaena's door.
During dinner, Helaena's maid had reported that she wasn't feeling well and had skipped the meal. Upon learning that she had been injured earlier in the day, Rhaegar became worried about his sister and decided to check on her.
Knock, knock...
"Helaena, are you hungry?" Rhaegar asked tentatively.
Silence.
Rhaegar's concern deepened, and he raised his hand to knock again. Since taming Dreamfyre, Helaena had become more cheerful and resilient. It wasn't like her to ignore him.
"Don't bother; she won't answer you," a somber voice said from behind.
Rhaegar turned to see Aemond emerging from the corridor's shadows, holding a baguette. Aemond looked downcast, his head hung low.
Rhaegar immediately sensed that Aemond knew more than he was letting on. "Aemond, do you know what happened to Helaena?"
"Probably," Aemond whispered, nodding. "After she got hit, she started talking about a stag carcass, silkworms, and some other nonsense. Then she just... shut down."
"A stag carcass?" Rhaegar muttered.
"Yes, she said it was a stag," Aemond confirmed.
Rhaegar closed his eyes, deep in thought. Helaena had likely experienced a prophetic vision and was now isolating herself. He remembered dreaming of the White Hart's death the previous night, assuming it was related to the Kingswood.
But Helaena's vision was clearer: a stag carcass and silkworms. Suddenly, it clicked.
"Baratheon?" he said, shocked. The stag, a symbol of House Baratheon, could only mean trouble for them.
Realizing the urgency, Rhaegar hurried down the corridor. He needed to act fast. As he passed Aemond, he patted his shoulder. "Remember, Helaena hasn't eaten. Look after her, little brother."
Without waiting for a response, Rhaegar left.
...
Soon, he returned to his room. Opening the door, he saw Rhaenyra brushing her hair at the dresser, with a maid attending to her.
"Rhaegar?" Rhaenyra looked surprised as he entered hastily.
"I need to send someone on an urgent errand," Rhaegar replied, his gaze shifting to the maid. "Sara, you must take a small boat and return to King's Landing immediately, than go to Storm's End."
Rhaegar couldn't leave, he still had to go to Dragonstone.
(Word count: 1,666)