Evening
Dark clouds obscured the bright moon as the sea breeze beat against the walls of Stone Drum Tower, echoing like a distant drum.
Crunch!
A door creaked open and Rhaegar, dressed in black, stepped out.
He looked back and sighed softly. "Rest well, Father."
After facing the rejection of his decision and witnessing the treachery of the Grand Maester, Viserys was in an extremely bad mood and retreated to his room to numb his nerves with alcohol.
After a long afternoon, he was disheveled beyond recognition.
It was uncertain if he would ever regain his resolve to tame the dragon.
...
As Rhaegar descended the stairs from the top floor of the Stone Drum Tower, he intended to return to his room for some rest. He shared a room with Rhaenyra, and the two siblings often shared little secrets with each other.
Rounding a corner, he noticed a maid waiting discreetly. Rhaegar paused and cast a glance her way.
The maid lowered her head and carefully handed over a piece of letter paper, whispering, "A letter from Lady Sara."
"Got it," Rhaegar said, taking the letter and waving his hand to signal her departure.
The maid, as if given an amnesty, hurried down the stairs.
Sara had a knack for cultivating loyal subordinates, ensuring the maids of honor within the castle were well-trained to serve Rhaenyra.
Rhaegar found an unoccupied corner and unfolded the letter to read it.
"Borros dead... suspected poisoning... Rhaenys..."
The more Rhaegar read, the more alarmed he became, his eyebrows furrowing deeply.
Borros had died on his way back to Storm's End, confirming his prophecy with Helaena. According to Sara's speculation, it seemed Borros had been poisoned. The poison was of such high quality that the maester couldn't determine the cause.
Rhaenys, invited to witness her cousin Borros's death, stayed at Storm's End to accompany Lady Elenda, Borros's widow, who was thoroughly investigating the cause.
Clenching his fists, the letter crumpling in his palm, Rhaegar felt a cold sweat break out on his back.
"Borros is actually dead!"
Rhaegar murmured, his expression dazed.
A realm lord dying so suddenly hinted at a bold and daring plot. Such a scourge needed to be eradicated.
Rhaegar considered whether to present the letter to his father. As soon as Rhaenys returned to Storm's End, she had sent a letter to King's Landing, reporting Borros's death. The raven arrived in King's Landing first and was forwarded to Dragonstone, delayed along the way. Meanwhile, Sara had rushed to Storm's End and transmitted the message directly to Dragonstone via raven, much faster.
Before taking another step, Rhaegar dispelled the idea. The trip to Dragonstone Island was for dragon taming, not only for Aemond but also to encourage his father. Revealing this matter now would cause a shock, potentially further weakening his father's will to tame a dragon.
Besides...
Rhaegar recalled certain memories and muttered, "Borros likely died unnaturally. Someone must be plotting something."
Using simple reasoning, he thought about who would benefit the most from Borros's death. The widow, Lady Elenda? Some distant cousin with the right to inherit? The in-laws of the Caron House?
One by one, Rhaegar considered the possible beneficiaries connected to House Baratheon, carefully analyzing their motives.
After a moment, he shook his head and murmured, "No, these people don't gain enough to risk so much."
There was another crucial point.
These people lacked the capability to acquire such a sophisticated poison that could silently take a person's life.
Lady Elenda and Borros had a fair relationship as husband and wife, evidenced by their four daughters.
Borros had no brothers, and his distant cousins were too far removed in generations to have much contact or motive.
The CaronHouse's lands were in Nightsong, guarding the Dornish borderlands for generations. Their patriarch, Royce, was Borros' father-in-law, making it unlikely they would kill Borros.
Turning around, Rhaegar leaned on the staircase railing, deep in thought.
Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of a green potted plant by the fence.
The flash of green triggered a realization. "A marriage!" Rhaegar murmured.
Borros's death left no direct male heir, throwing the line of succession into uncertainty.
Two categories of people had the right to inherit:
1. Borros' four daughters.
2. Distant cousins with tenuous blood ties.
In Westeros, the tradition of the Andals favored male inheritance. However, it wasn't unheard of for women to inherit titles and lands, as exemplified by Jeyne of the Vale, who inherited the Eyrie at the age of three and became known as the Maiden of the Vale.
The Baratheon cousins' bloodline was too scattered and weak to make a successful claim.
Lady Elenda, Borros' widow, was effectively the head of Storm's End now, supported by her cousin Rhaenys. Elenda would likely push for one of her daughters to inherit, emulating Jeyne's situation, which would create a potential issue.
A woman in Westeros eventually had to marry. Jeyne had avoided marriage to retain her power and prevent her husband's dominance. If Cassandra, one of Borros's daughters, inherited Storm's End, she would be a second Jeyne.
At this moment, the Four Storms were considering a union with Aemond. If Aemond married Cassandra and she inherited Storm's End, he would gain significant power and influence over the Stormlands.
A storm of realization swept through Rhaegar's mind, and he exclaimed in shock, "Alicent, Larys!"
The ones who stood to benefit the most from such a marriage were Alicent and Otto's faction, the so-called Green Faction, as well as Aemond.
Otto was too cautious and arrogant to commit such a bold act. Larys, however, was different.
After a brief interaction, Rhaegar had discerned that Larys was someone accustomed to darkness and repression.
Larys served as the King's Inquisitor, assisting the Master of Laws, Jasper, in prisoner interrogations. No prisoner who faced Larys remained silent, as his methods were rumored to be extremely cruel.
Alicent's character was twisted. Outwardly obedient to her father and husband, she tried to play the role of a good wife and mother. Inwardly, she was proud, unwilling to be subordinate, and fiercely protective.
After a long period of internal conflict, Alicent was restless and desperate for change, making Larys the perfect partner for her ambitions.
Recalling the night of the Kingswood Hunt, Rhaegar had seen Alicent and Larys plotting in private.
He wondered, "When did the idea of poisoning Borros arise?"
It was likely around the same time his dream foretold the death of the White Hart.
Comparing the timeline of Borros's death in Sara's letter, it matched closely with Helaena's prophecy.
"The world is full of coincidences," Rhaegar mused. "But too many coincidences aren't normal."
Regardless of the truth, he had classified Alicent and Larys as dangerous.
After some thought, Rhaegar decided it was time to act.
...
The following day, in the town of Dragonstone Island:
Rhaegar, draped in black robes, led a group of Dragonkeepers. Behind him, Aemond, Helaena, Cassandra and Maris of the Four Storms followed closely. The other two sisters of the Four Storms were too young and had been left behind.
As they walked along the dirt road, flanked by densely packed stone and wood houses, traders occasionally crossed their path. In the distance, the towering Dragonmont loomed, an active volcano surrounded by mountains and jungles.
Aemond ran ahead, excitement lighting up his face. "Brother, when are we going to tame the dragon?"
Rhaegar, his face hidden under his hood, smiled slightly. "Eager, are we?"
"Uh-huh," Aemond nodded vigorously. "I want to go to Dragonmont, where Vermithor is sleeping!"
His recent encounter with the wild dragon Sheepstealer had only heightened his desire for the strongest dragon, surpassing even Grey Ghost and Stormcloud. The Bronze Fury, Vermithor, had filled his thoughts, a legacy of their great-grandfather Jehaerys.
Rhaegar rubbed Aemond's head and asked curiously, "Why not choose Silverwing?"
He didn't bother mentioning Sheepstealer; after all, few desired an ugly, wild dragon.
"Because Vermithor is stronger, second only to Vhagar and Cannibal!" Aemond replied without hesitation.
Rhaegar raised an eyebrow, scrutinizing his younger brother. A good ambition, if a bit brash. It reminded him of Maegor I, who, in his youth, had refused to hatch eggs or tame young dragons, insisting only the strongest dragon was worthy of him.
Maegor had later seized the throne from his nephew Aegon.
Noticing Rhaegar's strange gaze, Aemond winced, sensing he might have upset him. Thinking quickly, he added, "Father will also tame dragons. Silverwing is gentler and would be suitable for him."
Rhaegar's lips curled into a smile. "You're sincere."
He didn't mind Aemond's ambition. Most Targaryens shared that trait. More importantly, he appreciated Aemond's honesty—a quality perhaps fostered by Rhaegar's own gentle treatment.
Unlike others, Aemond felt comfortable speaking freely with Rhaegar, a refreshing contrast to Aegon, who only seemed interested in drinking and consorting with prostitutes.
Rhaegar put his arm around Aemond's shoulder and turned to Cassandra, speaking gently, "I need to have a word with Aemond. Please excuse us."
Cassandra, flustered by Rhaegar's grace, whispered, "Prince, please go ahead."
"Thank you." Rhaegar smiled politely, guiding Aemond toward a nearby well.
Cassandra watched him go, her hands clasped over her chest, her voice barely audible, "You're welcome."
Rhaegar, the Heir of the King, was handsome, skilled in martial arts, and had ridden a dragon to conquer the Stepstones. He was her ideal marriage partner.
Seeing her sister's wistful expression, Maris nudged her. "Rhaegar has an engagement. Don't forget our purpose!"
Maris, too, admired Rhaegar but knew her place better than her sisters.
At the back, Helaena observed the whispering sisters, suspicion flickering in her eyes. But no one paid them much mind.
Rhaegar and Aemond sat on the well's edge. "What is it you want to tell me, brother?" Aemond leaned into his brother's embrace, his eyes wide with curiosity.
(Word count: 1,643)