"I hear you won the tournament, Ser Criston Cole," Haldor said, looking at the knight who was cleaning his armor.
Criston had not sensed Haldor's presence at all, so he was surprised and said, "You were in the stands when the tournament began. Who are you?"
"The princess's betrothed to a man to whom you owe no respect. But I would like to have a training duel with you. Shall we wield our weapons?" Haldor was eager to spar with the most skilled man in the tournament.
"I must decline. I am very tired and injured," Criston lied, not wanting to get into trouble.
Haldor nodded, walked away slowly, and said, "A shame that happened, but you have my congratulations. Don't forget, you can accept being my personal guard, and in return, you'll receive good rewards."
"Thank you for the offer, my Lord." Criston bowed to bid farewell to Haldor, who walked to an open area.
"A real shame."
…
The wind howled fiercely.
In the middle of the night, when few should have been awake, a figure moved his axes of different sizes at a speed that would be difficult to replicate.
Beyond the residential areas was a fourteen-year-old boy with white hair with slight traces of black streaks and deeply dark eyes, his chest rising and falling as a stream of white air came out with each breath, which lasted an
hour and a half.
"I don't know what's coming, but I won't be safe unless I can protect my own life without relying on anyone, as I have been doing all this time."
Dragons were strong, and he felt secure having Azazel, but that sense of comfort made him weak.
This had also happened with the armored bears responsible for his security.
"I must not become complacent."
The cold night wind blew, mixed with snowflakes, hitting Haldor's body. He practiced the breathing method to keep his senses connected to his magic in a climate of 15 degrees Celsius. Although it was very painful and seemed to result only in self-inflicted wounds, Haldor did not stop practicing. The breathing method he was practicing not only increased his magical power but also gave him total control over its use, maximizing every drop of magic in his body.
Since the day he received training from Baba Voss, he has trained every night and part of the morning, without fail, practicing this breathing method. He had to acclimate his body to it to keep his magical power hidden from others.
His motto was never to be weak or to appear weak.
Slight plans were woven in the shadows; all sorcerers knew that Viserys' heir would be lucky to reach twenty years old, and that was a serious problem for the crown that no one, by Haldor's orders, wanted to share.
Aemma, the queen and mother of Rhaenyra, would not be able to have children after the special treatment she received. With no more heirs in the line of succession, Viserys would be left with no options, but by then his only daughter would be married to Haldor.
What was the fastest way to gain control of the seven kingdoms? Of course, the smartest all had their answer.
In the eyes of the King, Haldor was trustworthy, honorable, and someone he could rely on.
When the time came, Haldor knew there would be a rebellion, and that would cause serious waves of insurrection among some houses that would be erased. For the war that was coming, Haldor needed the kingdom to be united, which is precisely why he would eliminate the obstacles.
Crack!
Haldor's gaze turned to the corner of a structure, and he said, "I see you. Come out or face my weapons."
A silence surrounded the place, and just when Haldor was about to attack, a familiar voice came from the corner of that structure: "How did you know someone was there?"
"Intuition. I sense when curious eyes watch me from head to toe." Haldor looked at his betrothed with a trace of indifference on his face.
She would undoubtedly be his key to securing the future of the seven kingdoms and ensuring their survival.