Queen's Bedchamber
Bang!
The door to the room closed, and the room grew quiet.
Alicent bent down and took her daughter's hand. "There are many adults arriving today," she whispered.
Helaena turned a deaf ear and muttered, "Bears in the sea..."
The words came out dry, as if her eyes were piercing through unseen images.
"Helaena," Alicent tried to embrace her, eyes full of pity. "My daughter."
Helaena quickly turned away, coldly avoiding her mother's embrace.
Alicent looked stunned, her pupils trembling as she looked at her daughter. "I need rest," Helaena murmured, lowering her fine eyebrows. Then, as an afterthought, she added, "Mother."
She had just seen many, many unfamiliar images, a stream of visions poked into her head like a rough stick. The images penetrated her mind, blurring her memory.
Alicent dropped her hand awkwardly, ignoring the black and green spools of thread on the felt. She sighed softly, "You're a big girl now, it's time to go out and see the world."
"I'm a Targaryen. We own the world," Helaena replied calmly, looking away.
"You may have a dragon, but you can't live on its back for the rest of your life," Alicent said, trying to hold back her frustration as she pressed on convincingly.
Helaena clenched her small hands and stood up, moving away from her mother. "I don't want this."
She was no longer the little girl who cried like a toddler or babbled incoherently. She knew that she was not only a Dragonrider, but also a rare Dreamer. Her brother had told her that there was nothing in this world that she couldn't have if she wanted it.
Alicent, trying to remain patient, continued, "It is the rules of the world that you are of age to marry."
"Whose rules?" Helaena shot back, her incredulity clear.
She walked over to the wall and lowered her sword, "Long Summer". Her small hands pulled out part of the blade, revealing the cold, rippling steel that illuminated her soft face. Helaena stroked it gently, her eyes showing her affection.
It was clear that the little girl loved this sword. Dreamfyre gave her courage, and Long Summer was her will.
Seeing this, Alicent's frustration peaked. "Helaena, you are a lady. It is a woman's destiny to marry and have children. Don't play with that sword."
Alicent couldn't contain her anger, her sunburnt face now flushed with rage.
House Hightower from Oldtown was a respected and ancient noble house, and it had taught Alicent to be proud and reserved since she was young. She embraced the beliefs of the Seven Gods and learned the ways of a lady.
Her father, Otto, had convinced her to reach out to the bereaved king, using shameful tactics to put her in line for the throne. This caused her to go against her heart and betray her former friend, Rhaenyra. It stuck like a thorn in her heart.
Since then, Alicent had always remembered the family honor, abiding by sacrifice, paying the price, and adhering to the rules as a form of self-redemption.
She had suppressed her feelings for years, watching her children grow up one by one. She thought her efforts had borne fruit, only to be confronted with a rebellious reality that slapped her hard.
Click!
Long Summer slid back into its sheath as Helaena whispered softly, "Mother, I know how to wield a sword."
She looked down at her feet, glancing at her mother out of the corner of her eye. In her own way, she reminded herself that she was growing up, quietly rebelling against her mother's intense and uncomfortable affection. Except in front of Rhaegar, she was an innocent and sweet little girl.
Helaena was usually quiet and rarely spoke much. Alicent didn't care and tapped her forehead in frustration. "Grab some things, you're coming with me to meet someone in a few minutes."
"Okay," Helaena nodded briefly, not wanting to irritate her mother any further.
To outsiders, she was a girl with a troubled mind. But to her, it was her mother who seemed mentally unwell. Alicent, driven by her grandfather's ambitions and her own insecurities, had no real sense of self. Helaena saw her mother as the poor girl forced into a role she didn't really understand or want.
Alicent sat on her knees, red-eyed and silently crying, lamenting the injustice of her fate. There was no one she could trust completely, not even her father or her husband.
"Blessed be the Seven Gods," Alicent murmured, closing her eyes and clasping her hands in prayer.
...
On the other hand, a painted white carriage returned to the Red Keep.
Banquet Hall
Rhaegar sidestepped through the crowded flow of people and ascended the stairs. The joyous news of defeating the Triarchy had spread throughout the Seven Kingdoms, causing nobles everywhere to rejoice.
The queen had decreed that a Maiden's Day Festival be held, and the nobles, smelling the signals of potential unions, all wanted to get their hands on the benefits.
"Prince..."
"Long live the prince..."
With his long, attention-grabbing silver and gold hair, Rhaegar was surrounded by nobles who greeted him enthusiastically wherever he went. He smiled and responded to each one.
Upstairs, the room opened up a bit, making it easier to move around. Most of the women were gathered here, sitting around tables in groups of three or five, chatting about all sorts of gossip and interesting things.
Rhaegar looked around and saw Little Daeron behind a beaded curtain. Little Daeron spotted him and greeted him happily, "Brother, I have a place here."
The little boy was neatly dressed, his hair neatly combed, and he had the air of a small adult. Rhaegar waved and walked over to sit with him.
Lifting the beaded curtain, he saw three benches with goose feather cushions surrounding a triangular area. Little Daeron was sitting alone on one of the benches, with a half-open ancient book beside him. The twins, Baela and Rhaena, sat on the other two benches.
"Roar..."
The young dragon, Morning, lay on her back in Rhaena's arms, hissing weakly at Rhaegar. After two months, Morning had not grown much, still the size of a house cat. Compared to her previous sickly, breathless appearance, Morning was much more energetic, her vertical pupils spinning as she looked curiously at Rhaegar.
Rhaegar also looked at the little dragon a few times. With light pink scales all over her body and black, pearl-like dragon horns, her appearance was indeed rare and beautiful. But she was crippled.
Seeing his arrival, the twins greeted him in unison, "Cousin."
Their last name was Targaryen, an extension of Daemon's bloodline.
"I just came by to sit for a while. You know, walk the floor," Rhaegar said with a gentle face as he sat next to Daeron.
"Roar..."
Morning broke free of its master's embrace and flapped its magnificent wings to fly to the coffee table, freezing in place as it stared at Rhaegar. The neck stretched several times, trying to get close and then shrinking back.
Rhaegar's eyes flickered slightly. He raised his hand to stroke the young dragon's head and smiled. "Looks like she's recovering well."
Rhaena nodded repeatedly. "I've listened to you and taken Morning out often to feel the earth's fire, and her food intake has increased."
"Dragonmont is a good place, and an occasional visit to the Isle of Faces is fine," Rhaegar suggested as he scratched Morning's jaw.
Dragons were magical creatures of blood and fire, and the fire magic of volcanic landscapes was the strongest, helping to replenish the energy of young dragons with innate deficiencies.
As he spoke, Rhaegar secretly summoned his fire magic and channeled it against Morning's scales.
Morning shivered pleasantly and opened its wings, clinging to Rhaegar's arm, unwilling to let go. Rhaegar held still, channeling fire magic into the young dragon's body.
With his powerful perception, he was exceptionally sensitive to fire magic. Each dragon contained raging fire magic, much like a burning bonfire. The three adult dragons - Cannibal, Vhagar, and Vermithor - were like little volcanoes, brimming with explosive power.
Based on observation, dragons did not actively absorb fire magic, but their massive bodies could autonomously absorb it, growing stronger with age. Morning's innate weakness was her low efficiency in absorbing fire magic.
As a young dragon, if Tyraxes could absorb a large pot of fire magic, Morning could only manage a small cup. However, her condition had improved slightly with the nourishment of earth fire.
After a while, Rhaegar withdrew his arm and patted the seemingly drunken Morning, encouraging it, "Feed well and you will become a great dragon."
Rhaena hugged Morning gently and nodded vigorously, "Uh-huh! I'll take good care of her."
Rhaegar turned to see little Daeron holding an ancient book, reading intently. He reached out to snatch it, "Read a little less, you're becoming a bookworm."
It was enough for the Targaryens to have one dragonless scholar. There was no need for another.
Little Daeron obediently let out an "oh" and sat down quietly.
Rhaegar frowned slightly. Compared to his other siblings, Little Daeron's strength was learning and understanding manners, but his weakness was a lack of opinions. Without Helaena and Aemond to guide him, he was more or less idle.
"Where did Aegon go?" Rhaegar asked casually, glancing around.
The focus of the Maiden Day Festival was not the maidens, but Aegon, who wanted to marry one. He had returned to King's Landing on Sunfyre overnight.
Little Daeron raised an eyebrow, pointed his little finger behind another beaded curtain and muttered, "He's over there."
Rhaegar looked and saw several people through the beaded curtain. Aegon, with a smug look on his face, leaned back on a bench and raised his glass of wine. Several maidens of outstanding beauty surrounded him.
Among them was Margaery Tyrell of Highgarden. Dressed in a pale green gown, the little rose gazed at Aegon with a smile on her lips. Her soulful eyes twinkled as if she were watching a show. The other maidens were a bit younger than her.
Rhaegar recognized them by the house emblems on their jewelry - a tall tower, a walking hunter, and three hives in black and yellow stripes. When he saw the Honeyholt emblem, he laughed softly, "Lord Lyman is eager to marry into the royal family as well."
That was the crest of House Beesbury of Honeyholt.
Little Daeron turned and flopped on the back of his chair, staring at another blonde girl and whispering, "Look, that's the Lannister girl."
Rhaegar glanced over and said casually, "A branch of the House of much lower status."
At that moment, Aegon was completely unaware that his brothers were watching from the sidelines. He lifted the silver and gold hair that covered his forehead and gestured dramatically:
"Braavos launched a sneak attack on the Three Sisters Islands with hundreds of warships. It was up to me and Sunfyre to fight them off. We burned those mercenaries until they cried for their mothers..."
He looked genuinely heroic.
Clap...
Margaery clapped her small hands, pursed her lips, and smiled, "To the brave Prince Aegon, and to the golden Sunfyre."
She raised her wine glass and took a dainty sip. The two girls from the Lannister and Tully Houses looked at each other, seeing suspicion in each other's eyes.
They were well-informed and knew that nothing like what Prince Aegon described had happened. The girl from House Hightower, however, ignored these details and cooperatively raised her glass to drink.
Seeing this, Aegon raised his chin high, seemingly believing his own tale.
Not far away, Rhaegar and Little Daeron witnessed it with their own eyes, exchanged a heartfelt glance, and blurted out, "How humiliating!"
(Word count: 1,956)