The foreign beauty remained calm, meeting Rhaenyra's gaze in the mirror.
"Go," Rhaenyra said with a nod.
"Yes, Princess," Sara replied softly, retrieving a black robe from a drawer before exiting the room.
As she passed Rhaegar, he issued a quick command, "Keep an eye on Borros."
"No problem," she assured, disappearing into the depths of the corridor.
Alone with his sister, Rhaenyra turned to Rhaegar, curiosity evident. "What happened?"
"A dream and a prophecy," Rhaegar replied, eyes glinting as he casually closed the door.
Rhaenyra tilted her head, continuing to brush her long, silky hair. "Something wrong with Borros?"
Her skepticism was understandable. Rhaegar had many capable men, strategically placed across the realm. However, he trusted only two women implicitly: Sara, of mysterious origin, and Skylar, the bastard daughter of House Celtigar.
Because of their unique positions, Rhaenyra had assigned Sara and Skylar to safeguard Rhaenyra and Jeyne, respectively. This dual role was why Sara had checked with Rhaenyra before acting.
Rhaegar walked behind Rhaenyra, gently taking the comb from her hand. He began to stroke her long, silver-gold hair, his movements soothing.
Staring into the mirror, his thoughts settled, and he sighed softly. "Perhaps."
His prophetic dream, combined with Helaena's vision, seemed too significant to ignore. He couldn't shake the feeling that something ominous was brewing around Borros.
...
Two days later, Dragonstone Island.
Boom...
The tightly closed black stone gate slowly opened, revealing the long steps of the towering stone bridge.
More than a hundred well-equipped guards marched out to welcome the king's family.
Swish Swish...
With a steady and powerful pace, the guards split into two lines, standing tall and proud.
Viserys blanched, swallowing hard. His seasickness had returned, though it was not severe.
Alicent held her husband's hand and their youngest son, Daeron, in the other. She spoke softly, "Go ahead and get some rest."
"Good, everyone is tired," Viserys forced a smile and, hand in hand with his wife, stepped onto the long steps of the stone bridge.
Behind them, Hand of the King Lyonel, Otto, and Grand Maester Mellos followed unhurriedly. Their duties were more pressing than those of the other royal advisers.
The Hand of the King assisted in political affairs, Otto watched over the Four Storms that accompanied them, and the Grand Maester provided wisdom and medical help. Viserys' seasickness had been alleviated by a soothing medication from the Grand Maester.
After the advisers, three adult male heirs, Rhaegar, Daemon, and Aegon, led the way. Rhaenyra held her twin adopted daughters' hands, while Helaena and Aemond walked behind them with the chattering Four Storms.
Daemon had been invited to the island by his brother Viserys to witness his nephew's dragon-taming journey. Laena, pregnant and with limited mobility, had disembarked earlier at Driftmark.
The long steps of the stone bridge, wedged between the black stone gate and the castle, wound several times. After a while, Viserys began to gasp, cold sweat breaking out on his forehead. Glancing at Lyonel and Otto, who seemed unaffected, his competitive spirit flared.
"Ahem..." Viserys coughed lightly and initiated conversation. "This time, for Aemond's dragon taming, which dragon do you think he'll tame?"
Lyonel hesitated before replying cautiously, "Taming dragons is very dangerous. It's enough if the prince can avoid harm."
"Don't be so serious. I'm only asking about that one dragon," Viserys waved his hand with a smile. "Dragons are a Targaryen asset, and I've yet to hear of any Targaryen getting hurt from taming a dragon."
Otto frowned, sensing deeper implications. Grand Maester Mellos raised an eyebrow, crossing his hands in his sleeves. "From memory, Prince Rhaegar attempted to tame Dreamfyre as a young boy, resulting in severe burns on his back."
He remembered treating the wounds himself, a memory that stayed with him. Rhaegar, trailing behind, overheard and glared resentfully.
"Shame," Rhaenyra stifled a snicker.
Rhaegar: ...
What a humiliating moment.
Helaena tilted her head, surveying her brother curiously, not realizing he had been burned by Dreamfyre. A memory from when she was two years old surfaced. She recalled her brother lying injured in bed, and how she used to visit his room to play and blow gently on his wounds.
Her bright eyes flickered as she glanced at her sister, Rhaenyra, glaring subtly. She clearly remembered that it was Rhaenyra who had later found her and forbade her from playing in their brother's room, even hiding her favorite dragon doll.
"Selfish!" Helaena muttered, resentful.
Rhaenyra overheard and asked, "What did you say?"
"Nothing!" Helaena shivered, her little head bobbing rapidly.
She was terrified of this sister, who had not treated her well since childhood. She had heard that if her mother hadn't married her father, she wouldn't have been allowed to call the other woman sister.
Back to the conversation.
Viserys, with a head full of frustrations, sighed, "Rhaegar is an exception. Dreamfyre was being abused by the Dragonkeepers and despite being injured by Dreamfyre, he later succeeded in taming the Wild Dragon Cannibal."
"It was not abuse. Dreamfyre has a violent personality, and Maester Bass was concerned for the safety of the Dragonkeeper," Mellos interjected, defending the maester.
Viserys' face darkened, and he said unhappily, "Does it matter?"
That selfish maester's actions caused his eldest son to be injured, and he remembered it for the rest of his life.
Mellos, realizing he had overstepped, bowed his head and fell silent.
After a few sentences of small talk, the three royal advisers began to understand that the king had other intentions.
Lyonel's eyes twinkled, and he spoke up, "Your Grace, which dragon do you think is the best to tame?"
This was the right question, and Viserys immediately became interested. "Of course, it's Vermithor, my grandfather Jaehaerys's dragon. It's the largest and most irascible adult dragon on Dragonstone Island at the moment."
"Vermithor holds the title of Bronze Fury, and his character has always been horrible. I'm afraid it's not suitable for Prince Aemond," Lyonel responded thoughtfully.
Viserys, simple-minded, considered for a while. "Vermithor is indeed dangerous. Silverwing would be a good choice. It was my grandmother Alyssane's dragon, and it has the most docile character."
There was one more thing unmentioned: Silverwing was close in age to Vermithor and second in size among the masterless dragons.
By this point in the conversation, even Alicent could see Viserys' fondness for dragons.
Otto and his daughter exchanged glances, and Otto casually asked, "There is also a brown dragon called Sheepstealer on Dragonstone Island. I heard its size is not inferior to Caraxes and Meleys."
A flash of hesitation crossed Viserys' eyes, and he shook his head. "Sheepstealer's age is similar to the young dragons, and its size exceeds that of young dragons of the same time period, but its appearance is too unpleasant."
Sheepstealer's scales were an ugly brown clay color, and its wings were brown as well. It was a recognized ugly monster.
Despite his usual indifference to dragons, Viserys secretly knew all the dragons owned by the family.
Lyonel's lips quirked as if he wanted to say something.
Otto kept quiet, observing the king's furrowed brow as he talked about the dragons.
With the topic of interest brought up, Viserys became more and more animated, his originally pale face regaining its color.
A few moments later, Lyonel, whose eyelids were fluttering, could no longer hold his tongue and said stiffly, "Your Grace, remember? Our trip is for Prince Aemond's dragon taming."
"Eh ..." Viserys' voice faltered as he looked at the Hand of the King in dismay.
Lyonel took a deep breath and squeezed out a smile. "Taming dragons is a young man's endeavor. I believe Prince Aemond will succeed."
He sensed the king's desire for dragons. Naturally, he wished for a strong and powerful monarch, a valiant dragon master. However, everything couldn't be done impulsively. From an objective perspective, it was risky for a king to tame a dragon.
Although Viserys had once tamed the black dread Balerion, who knew if he could do it again? One wrong move and the king could be at great risk.
As the Hand of the King, Lyonel couldn't ignore this risk and had to speak out.
Viserys was taken aback, looking at Lyonel with embarrassment and glancing at Otto and Mellos out of the corner of his eye. All three had their heads bowed, saying nothing. Clearly, they were united in their silent opposition.
Frozen for a moment, Viserys regained his composure and forced a smile. "Actually, a lot of it lies in trying, right?"
"..."
Lyonel pursed his lips, unable to bear the king's pleading gaze. Delayed in getting a response, Viserys felt a heavy weight on his chest, holding his breath.
"Baa ..."
Suddenly, the bleating of sheep broke the silence, along with the occasional yell of a shepherd.
"Viserys, are you all right?" Alicent asked, shaking her husband's arm with concern.
"Fine, just a little tired."
Not wanting his wife to see his vulnerability, Viserys withdrew his arm and looked in the direction of the sheep's call. The long steps of the stone bridge were built into the steep mountain range. Looking up, they saw thin clouds and mist; looking down, they saw dense shrubbery.
They were halfway up the hill, located on a low-lying section of the ridge. Viserys rested both hands on the stone bridge, gazing down at a pasture-rich slope below. An unrecognizable shepherd wielded a short whip, driving dozens of goats up the slope, munching on crisp blades of grass.
Clouds, long bridge, wilderness, shepherd... several factors made up a beautiful scene. As this picturesque view unfolded before him, Viserys smiled, feeling a sense of fulfillment knowing his people were living well.
"Roar ..."
Suddenly, the clouds above stirred, and a sharp dragon roar echoed through the long bridge. Viserys looked up in surprise, catching a blur of brown in his vision.
"Baa! ..."
In the next moment, the goats' screams filled the air, desperate and terrified. "Don't! My goat!"
Viserys hastily looked down to see the shepherd paralyzed with fear, wailing miserably. With a slight sideways glance, a brown, decrepit dragon pounced on the ground, its dry, thin claws stomping on the carcasses of two twitching goats.
The grotesque dragon's head, with sunken eye sockets, was raised high, its fangs interlocking as it swallowed a living goat whole.
(Word count: 1,719)