Ashara noticed it, and so did Lyanna.
Even Arianne and Oberyn could see that something going on between Elia and Azaerys, but neither of them thought much about it.
The Kingsguard, of course, knew but their King's secrets were not something they would speak about, not even to each other.
Then again, the radiance on Elia's face for the last three weeks, and their prolonged stays inside his room, behind the locked door, did not leave much to guess for those who were old enough to understand these matters.
The Dornish Prince was just happy to see his sister happy, and his Martell Niece was just way too curious about how good her future Husband was in the bed. Was he better than all the lovers her cousin Tyene had had or not? Would he make her feel better than any of them has made her cousin feel?
For her age, her thoughts were quite depraved, but she was a Dornishwoman, and she had grown up with people who were a little too free to experiment with things even at a very young age.
However, she was growing a little agitated now as her aunt would always disturb her plans whenever she wanted to seduce her Intended.
"Will you take me on a ride on Aerylyx?" She requested when they sat for breakfast, and everyone at the table turned very quiet.
"Aerylyx does not let anyone other than Azaerys and Daenerys ride on him. He's different than Rhaelyx," Viserys informed her with a smile.
"It's something to do with magic. Only those whose blood is strong with Magic can ride its kind. Even in Valyria, no Dragonlord was ever able to hatch an egg of the Ancient Dragon, and there are records of only one Dragonlord to have mounted a beast like Aerylyx. He was the founder of the strongest House of Dragons, Alazar Draegor," told Aegon.
"You can approach Rhaelyx, just don't shout and touch her, and she will not mind your presence, but if you step close to Aerylyx, you will likely become his food. He only allows the Dragon Blood to touch him, and only Dany and Az to ride him. However, I am sure if Az is not with her, he will never let Dany ride on him either. Rhaelyx is the same, you can only ride on her if Viserys takes you with him," added Rhaenys.
"Oh..."
Suddenly, a certain bluish-white dragonling cutely roared and then let out a breath of flame to char the piece of undercooked meat that Ashara had put on the table for it.
The small dragon then picked it up with his mouth and happily swallowed it.
It looked towards Ashara for another piece, and she quickly put it in the same spot.
"Dracarys." She said, and again her cute little dragon, shot out the flame to cook the meat for itself.
"It can finally shoot flames, which means that its appetite will dramatically rise and it will grow up very fast now," Rhaenys told her Dornish cousin.
"They start growing up fast once they learn how to breathe flames?" Arianne looked at her in amazement.
"Yes. And their growth also depends on the growth of their Masters and the bond that they share. A dragon that stays close to its Master, grows up faster. There is also Magic and things that you can feed them to make them grow bigger quickly."
"What things?" She curiously asked.
"People," grinned Rhaenys, and both Azaerys and Viserys disapprovingly looked at her.
"She's teasing you," Aegon told his cousin, whose face had gone pale, and even Oberyn relaxed after the sudden shock.
"Hehe..." Rhaenys mischievously giggled, and Arianne pinched her in the side for scaring her like that.
Everyone at the table, who did not know High Valyrian, felt awkward when the kids started conversing with each other in their language, laughing and sharing jokes.
Arianne remembered when she had met Rhaenys on Dragonstone, and the little Princess at that time had looked like a Martell. However, now, she was Drgaonlady through and through.
Nearly half her head now had silvery blonde Targaryen hair, and even her complexion was of a lighter tone. Slightly tanned, just like Aegon's, but not the shade of their mother or hers.
She was also tall for her age, slimmer, but extremely active, and she had seen the little girl training with sticks and wooden swords every day.
"I will be a Warrior Queen."
It was the answer the little girl had given her when she asked why she wanted to train in fighting.
Rhaenys had no interest in music, pretty clothes, and sweets. She liked fighting, studying, and visiting the Dragons.
Every morning she would wake up and rush out to check up on Aerylyx and Rhaelyx, to see if they were back from their nightly hunting endeavours. She would go to them and touch them to show some love and even spend some time talking to them.
And ever since she had claimed her Dragon Egg, she was almost always seen with it, hugging it, speaking to it, asking it to hatch.
Arianne had even caught her and Aegon showing their Dragon Eggs to Aerylyx and Rhaelyx the very next morning, and both the Dragons sniffed the Eggs in curiosity.
The crimson dragon even roared and shot out flames from its mouth, almost in happiness. A sight that nearly forced her soul to leave her body, but both her cousins laughed without a hint of fear and then started chatting with the two dragons.
Now that she recalled, every time they were with the Dragons, they were careful with their touches when it came to Aerylyx, but carelessly leaned against Rhaelyx as they talked.
"Is there a way to contact people in Asshai? I wish to let my Paramour and daughters know that I am fine," asked Oberyn towards the end of their meal.
"You can find any Red Priest and Priestess in the Town and let them know what your message is and for whom. It will be delivered to your people in Asshai. If they send back a message, the red ones will approach you in a few hours and deliver it to you." Viserys informed the Prince and smiled. "Messages travel here faster than the ravens of Westeros."
"Convenient." He laughed and then stood up to excuse himself.
"They charge a fee. Gold works, even silver, but don't give them your blood if they ask for it. Find another Priest who is willing to accept silver or gold." Ashara informed him and warned him.
"I will keep that in mind, My Lady. Thank you." The Prince bowed to her and Azaerys before leaving the Dining Hall.
"Why do they ask for Blood?" Asked Arianne.
"Blood Magic," said Aegon.
"Don't ever give your blood to a Red Priest or Priestess or the people with black masks and red cloaks. They are Bloodmages," added Rhaenys.
The kids gave her a very serious look, and she dared not ask another question about this matter. She nodded her head in understanding, saving their warning in her heart.
When the meal ended and they left the hall, Ser Willem, who was waiting, bowed to his King.
"You Grace."
"Ser Willem," smiled the Young King, "I hope you did not skip breakfast today."
The gentleness and care in his voice made the old man smile.
"I dare not. Your servant remembers your warning," he laughed, "I visited the forge after the meal, and the Armourer asked me to inform you that he has finished his job. He would like to show you the blades."
"Have you seen them?" He curiously asked as he started walking towards his study.
"No, Your Grace, but I saw the Truth, and he has finished its pommel. He's talented and artistic."
"He is," nodded the Young King.
Even though the young ones did not know what it was all about, they followed him and Ser Willem, first to his study, where he entered and returned with a few papers in his hand, and then to the forge, where the heat was so high that even Arianne, who was from Dorne, felt unwell.
Lyanna had it worst, but the Targaryens seemed fine.
"Your Grace!" The Young Blacksmith, Jack, Harace's son, bowed to him as soon as he saw them come, and hearing his call, his father exited his private forge, carrying blades that were wrapped in a thick red cloth.
The man knelt to him and informed him that he had finished his job.
"I would like to see them."
"Of course, Your Grace." He stood up and slowly unwrapped the blades, revealing two daggers and a Longsword, which stunned everyone.
Azaerys smiled when he saw that it was exactly what he wanted.
The blade was dark, almost black, 41 inches long, and with a blood-red fuller. The hilt was 11 inches long, with a dragon on each end of the golden crossguard. At the centre of the guard, on both sides, was a ruby, and the grip was black, spiralled with gold lining. A third dragon head, larger than those at the crossguard, formed its pommel.
"Beautiful..." Lynana whispered, and it widened the smile on the Blacksmith and Azaerys face.
The Young King picked it up, checked its weight, and drew it to his right so swiftly that they heard the air being cut by the blade.
"It is exactly what I wanted, Horace. Thank you."
"The Lord commands and the Servat acts. There is no need to thank me, Your Grace." The old man went down on his knee again. "I thank you for allowing me to fulfil my dream."
Azaerys smiled at the sincerity in his voice and then placed the flat of his sword on the old man's shoulder.
"Tell me, Horace, would you like to be called Ser from this day onwards?" He asked, and the people around him were surprised at his words.
Horace's body trembled in excitement, as it was a great honour, but he sighed in self-depreciation.
"I am not a good fighter, Your Grace."
"Who told you that you have to be a good fighter to be a Knight?" He laughed. "You may not be a good fighter, but you are the finest Blacksmith in the world, a master of reforging Valyrian Steel, better than anyone in Qohor. And you are the Armourer of my Family. Your Lord feels that you deserve it, and you shall have it."
"Your Grace..." Horace held back his tears. "The servants thanks his Lord for the honour."
His words made the Young King smile, and he tapped the blade old man's right shoulder and then on his left shoulder. Finally, he lightly placed the flat end on his head and recited the ceremony.
"The Servant of Fire, the Servant of Blood. Sworn by the Blood Oath in the hands of your Lord. From this day, you are a Knight of the House Targaryen, sworn to serve and protect them; Rise, Ser Horace Burnton." He said and drew back his sword.
The old man failed to hold back his tears and kept his head lowered.
"Why, Ser Horace, are you not happy?" He asked, and everyone behind him laughed at his question.
The old man failed to hold back his chuckle as well.
"These are the tears of happiness, Your Grace."
"Good. I hate the tears of sadness." He said and then smiled at his blade.
"What's its name?" Rhaenys excitedly asked.
"Did I not just say it?" He asked, and her eyes widened as she recalled the ceremony that he and recited.
"Blood Oath..."
"Yes." He said and handed the Sword to Viserys, who wanted to check it out.
Lynana checked it next, and finally, Ser Willem before it returned to his hand.
Azaerys placed it back on the table.
"I want a black scabbard for it. Gold lining, and rubies."
"Yes, Your Grace!" Ser Horace accepted his command and then smiled as his Lord picked up the leaf-shaped red dagger with a dragon bone handle, and a dragon head as its pommel.
Its blade was ten inches long, and Valyrian Steel patterns on it resembled flames.
The second dagger was slightly longer, at 13 inches, wickedly curved, with a ring guard, and from end to end, it was black, except for two rubies, which were embedded right under the dragon head of the pommel.
"Which one do you want?" He asked, and when Rhaenys raised her head, she found him looking at her.
A very bright smile bloomed on her face and she happily pointed to the one he was holding on his left hand.
Rhaenys eyes glinted in happiness as she accepted the dagger in her hands and stared at his blade.
"Silence," she suddenly grinned as she named the weapon in her arms.
"Nice." He chucked as he knew she was imagining using it on her enemies, and then turned to look towards Viserys. "Yours."
The Prince grinned as he accepted the red dagger.
"I will call it Promise." He tested the dagger by swinging it and smiled at how light it was.
Both the Targaryens placed the daggers back on the table as their scabbards needed to be made, and they told Ser Horace what they wanted for it.
Azaerys checked the gold pommel of Truth and the golden and silver scabbard that the Armourer had created for it.
Again, he was deeply impressed by the man's skill, and since this weapon was ready to be carried, he kept it in his hand.
"Excuse us. I want want to talk to Ser Horace about the next weapons he will be making."
"I want to see the designs," Rhaenys pouted, but he shook his head.
"You will see the weapons when they are ready. I thought you liked surprises."
"I do." She cutely giggled and then turned around to run out of the forge.
The others left as well, and only Ser Willem stayed, as he was responsible for arranging anything that Horace would need to build the weapons.
"How much Valyrian Steel is left?"
"Enough to make four longswords the size of Truth."
Hearing his answer, the older Knight was stunned and felt a little dizzy.
Where did his King find so much Valyrian Steel?
"Good. Here are the designs of three swords, and two daggers." He took out the papers from inside his robe and handed them to the newly Knighted Blacksmith.
A bright smile crept on the man's face when he saw that he would be working on more beautiful treasures, and bowed to thank him for this opportunity.
When they exited the forge, Ser Willem could not help but speak what was on his mind.
"Your Grace."
"Yes, Ser Willem?"
"A King needs a Crown." He said, and his words made Azaerys laugh.
"What a waste of Valyrian Steel." He shook his head.
"A Crown is a symbol, Your Grace. The more exceptional it is, the more the Highborns respect its wearer. It is not a waste. Aegon, the First of his Name, sat on the Iron Throne wearing a black Valyrian Steel Crown with red rubies in it. The colours of your Hosue. Black and Red. A symbol."
"I understand what you are saying, Ser Willem. However, now is not the time for me to wear a crown. A Crown hinders your growth." He playfully said, but the old man turned silent as he understood the deeper meaning behind his words.