"The kingdom hasn't gone to war yet. My father is still in negotiations."
Rhaenyra lost her smile and retorted against the old lady's accusation.
Another elderly woman spoke up, "Even though the King refuses to acknowledge it, the war has already begun, thanks to your uncle and the Sea Snake."
"And how have you been serving the realm lately, Lady Redwyne?"
Rhaenyra lost all patience, casting a scornful glance at the lapdog in the woman's arms and shooting back, "By eating biscuits?"
The blatant mockery hung in the air, silencing the crowd.
The atmosphere grew tense.
Then, suddenly—
"Pfft~"
A burst of barely restrained laughter broke through the silence, its sharpness echoing in the quiet.
Lady Redwyne's face darkened as her gaze landed on the silver-haired boy struggling to hold back his laughter. She spoke in a low voice, "Your Highness, is this young man the prince?"
Rhaenyra couldn't be bothered to reply and simply turned to leave, her cool silhouette the only response she gave the old woman.
Rhaegar couldn't suppress his amusement any longer. Standing confidently before the group of noblewomen, he introduced himself: "I am Rhaegar. Rhaegar Targaryen."
"Viserys the First is my father, and I am his eldest son."
Looking at Lady Redwyne, he asked with an innocent smile, "Forgive me for being frail and sickly as a child, which kept me from public view. Lady Biscuit, does my name ring a bell for you?"
"Pfft~"
Another person failed to stifle their laughter.
Rhaegar turned his head and saw a frail man with curly brown hair sitting incongruously among the women—a gathering of gossipy tongues.
The man held a cane in one hand, and Rhaegar's gaze dropped to notice an unusual shoe.
The man was a cripple with a deformed foot.
Sensing his gaze, the man nodded politely and introduced himself, "Larys Strong, at your service, Prince."
Rhaegar returned the gesture and asked curiously, "Is Lord Lyonel your father?"
"Yes, he is. I am his youngest son," Larys replied, withdrawing his deformed foot slightly.
"Your father is known far and wide as a good and loyal servant of the realm."
After a brief exchange of pleasantries, Rhaegar shifted his focus back to Lady Redwyne.
"The Three Daughters have invaded the kingdom's territory, plundering passing ships and enslaving the loyal subjects of my father's realm," he declared.
"My uncle Daemon may have acted without permission, but he did so to defend his brother's kingdom, fulfilling the responsibilities of a Targaryen prince."
Pausing briefly, Rhaegar glanced at Lady Jirelle, who had spoken first, and continued with conviction:
"This war was not of our making. It is the Three Daughters who have overstepped, challenging the authority of Targaryen rule."
"I am confident that it won't be long before my father makes the hard decision, despite the criticisms he'll face for entering the war. He will send troops to defeat the Crab Feeder and repel the foreign invaders."
"And as for the kingdom's governance, that is for the King and his council to manage. It hardly requires the input of a biscuit-loving lady."
Rhaegar's passionate speech concluded, emphasizing Lady Redwyne and her biscuit obsession for effect.
The noblewomen who had previously mocked Rhaenyra were left red-faced, as if they had been slapped in public.
Alicent stared at Rhaegar in shock, as though seeing him for the first time.
No one could have imagined that a six-year-old boy could deliver such a speech.
Especially Lady Redwyne, who felt thoroughly humiliated yet found herself unable to retort.
"Queen Alicent, you ought to discipline the King's children better," she snapped, throwing her lapdog to the ground and storming off, lifting her biscuit-crumb-stained skirts in fury.
She muttered angrily as she left.
"Perhaps my words were too naive to resonate with everyone here," Rhaegar said with a smile, placing a hand on his lightly heaving chest before bowing and taking his leave.
He had no time to chat with a group of narrow-minded gossips.
He needed to find his sister.
Adolescents struggling with insecurity are often prone to sadness and require comfort.
Just as he stepped out of the tent, he heard an uneven set of footsteps behind him.
Turning around, he saw Larys leaning on his cane.
"Ser Larys, are you not a fan of the noblewomen's gossip?" Rhaegar asked curiously.
Larys replied tactfully, "Not quite. I enjoy gathering all kinds of information."
"And that is?"
---
Rhaegar looked at him strangely.
Larys bent down, lowering himself to Rhaegar's eye level as much as possible, his smile carrying a hint of flattery. "I've come specifically to meet you, Your Highness."
Rhaegar nodded, signaling him to continue.
Larys said, "I've heard that the king's eldest son—Your Highness—has always stayed in the palace due to health issues?"
"That's correct. My mother had a difficult labor when I was born, and I was at risk of dying before the age of six."
Rhaegar spoke bluntly, curious about Larys's intentions.
"Praise the Seven Gods! Even though you've been frail and sickly, Your Highness, your astonishing intellect has never been overshadowed. Truly, a blessing for the kingdom."
Larys offered exaggerated praise.
Rhaegar's patience began to wane. He said calmly, "Without years of running and playing, I simply read more books."
"Oh? What kind of books do you enjoy, Your Highness?"
"Some history books. Reading history makes one wise and teaches us the lessons of our predecessors."
Rhaegar, losing interest in the conversation, remarked coldly, "History serves to warn future generations—to guard their honor and stay away from those with ill intentions."
Then he turned and left.
Larys, leaning on his cane, watched his departing figure with a faint smile and a meaningful look in his eyes.
"A fascinating little prince. The waves keep coming, but it's not time to come ashore yet."
---
Leaving the scheming man behind without a farewell, Rhaegar continued searching for his sister.
He searched for a long time but found no sign of her.
He couldn't help but wonder if Rhaenyra had been too upset and had hidden in some corner, secretly shedding her precious pearls of tears.
"Your Highness."
As he walked among the bonfires and fruit platters, a steady voice called out to him.
Rhaegar looked around and saw a White Knight dressed in silver armor and draped in a white cloak.
Beneath the helmet was a ponytail, thick eyebrows, large eyes, and a full beard.
Rhaegar recognized this White Knight.
And not just him—he had seen two identical faces.
Among the King's Kingsguard were twin brothers.
Ser Erryk Cargyll.
Ser Arryk Cargyll.
The brothers were exceptional warriors and paragons of justice, which had earned them both a place in the Kingsguard.
"Ser Erryk, do you need something from me?"
Rhaegar, holding a bunch of red grapes, looked at him curiously.
Hearing his name spoken correctly, Erryk was momentarily startled, seeming slightly flattered.
The twins resembled each other so closely that only those who had spent considerable time with them could tell them apart. Mistaking one for the other was common.
Erryk stepped forward and bowed respectfully. "The king is looking for you."
"Alright, lead the way."
Rhaegar was very cooperative. Erryk hesitated slightly before offering a word of caution. "Your Highness, the king just had an argument with the princess, so he's not in the best mood."
"An argument? About what?"
Rhaegar brushed off the question of Rhaenyra returning to the tent and his futile search, focusing first on the cause of the dispute.
"It concerns the princess's marriage. I dare not say more."
Erryk, upright and honorable, refrained from commenting on the king and princess's private matters. However, he did mention someone by name.
Jason Lannister.
Duke of the Westerlands, Lord of Casterly Rock, Warden of the West…
In short, a man with a string of lofty titles.
It took Rhaegar a moment to connect the dots.
With Erryk's reminder, he pieced together the situation.
This man was Tyland Lannister's elder brother.
The current head of House Lannister.
The issue stemmed from Jason Lannister's private attempt to court Rhaenyra.
Arrogant and self-assured, Jason openly expressed his desire for her beauty and power without any pretense.
Rhaenyra had no interest in such a peacock-like fool.
She rejected him politely.
Returning to the tent, she opposed Viserys's attempts to control her marriage, citing Jason Lannister's behavior as an example.
Then…
What followed was the inevitable clash of wills.
The debate ended with Viserys fuming in anger and Rhaenyra retreating in tears.
(End of Chapter)