Just as Rhaenyra was about to change into a different formal gown, a strong wind swept through King's Landing under the night sky.
*"Screeeech..."*
A deep, thunderous dragon roar echoed through the darkness. A massive silhouette blocked the crescent moon, casting a vast shadow over the land.
A gigantic dragon with dark green scales soared in from the direction of Blackwater Bay, gliding over the city.
On the back of this ancient dragon, two figures sat closely together, one in front of the other.
---
### The Red Keep – Banquet Hall
Inside the grand banquet hall, a large dining table was set, with servants carrying in dishes and trays of fruit.
Viserys, filled with excitement, was the first to arrive. He signaled for the servants to continue their work and sat alone at the table, waiting.
Not long after, Alicent arrived.
She was accompanied by several young Targaryens.
As time passed, more and more guests entered the hall.
Viserys beamed with joy, delighted by this long-awaited family feast.
Half an hour later…
*Tap, tap…*
Soft footsteps echoed from the stairway leading to the hall.
Rhaegar appeared, dressed in a black formal robe, his long hair neatly combed, revealing his handsome face.
Rhaenyra held onto his arm. Her silver hair was styled into small braids, mingling with her flowing locks, cascading down her waist.
Before they descended the stairs, Rhaenyra puffed up her cheeks and murmured in complaint, "This is your fault! I had to change my dress again. Now we're late."
"We're not late. The banquet hasn't started yet," Rhaegar argued playfully, then added apologetically, "Rhaenyra, you know… I lost my mother when I was young. I always feel a little nostalgic."
At his words, a blush spread across Rhaenyra's cheeks. She shot him a glare.
Still feeling dissatisfied, she raised her foot and stomped on his boot.
*"Ow!"*
Rhaegar let out a pained groan and pretended to plead, "Don't be mad. I was being sincere."
"You still dare to talk back? So disrespectful!"
Rhaenyra's brows furrowed as she grabbed his face with both hands and, without hesitation, bit him fiercely on the cheek.
Rhaegar yelped and struggled, pushing her away.
"You like biting people, huh? Let's see how you like it when I bite you back!"
Leaving behind a row of deep red teeth marks, Rhaenyra huffed in annoyance.
It was an old habit she could never change.
Ever since childhood, she had a tendency to bite people whenever she had the chance—like she was chewing on a loaf of bread.
Rhaegar immediately stepped back, rubbing his aching cheek.
Rhaenyra had bitten down with full force.
She didn't care about appearances—when she bit, she meant it.
---
As they descended the stairs, they saw that the dining table was already surrounded by people.
"Look! The guests of honor have finally arrived!"
Viserys chuckled warmly, waving for his son and daughter to take their seats.
"Princess Rhaenyra…"
Two young girls with silver hair and deep-colored skin sat on round stools by the table. Their sweet voices greeted Rhaenyra.
Rhaenyra, now in a good mood after venting her frustration, returned their greeting with a smile. "Baela, Rhaena."
The two little girls were Laenor's daughters—her adoptive daughters.
They had just turned three this year, well-behaved and obedient.
Rhaenyra adored them.
The twins also greeted Rhaegar politely, and he responded in kind.
However, Rhaegar's expression soon darkened.
The long dining table was surrounded by members of House Targaryen and their close kin.
As Rhaegar and Rhaenyra arrived, the guests all took their seats.
Viserys sat at the head of the table, positioned at the long side.
To his right sat Alicent and Otto Hightower.
To his left, two seats were left open for his son and daughter.
Beside Otto, Laenor was seated next to a silver-haired woman whom Rhaegar did not recognize.
On the opposite side of the table…
From right to left sat Aegon, Helaena, Aemond, Daeron, and the twin sisters.
At the far ends of the table…
One side was occupied by the regal and dignified Rhaenys.
On the other side sat Laenor, who had traveled from Driftmark, alongside… Daemon.
"Rhaegar, take your seat," Rhaenyra noticed his shift in expression and tugged at his sleeve, whispering a reminder.
Rhaegar touched his cheek and mimicked her earlier tone. "Rhaenyra, you embarrassed me."
"Fine! Blame me all you want."
Rhaenyra sighed, amused, and pulled him toward their seats.
Showing up with a bite mark on his face wasn't exactly dignified.
Helaena and the other younger children kept sneaking curious glances, trying to figure out what had happened.
As he took his seat, Rhaegar scanned the room, smiling but saying nothing.
Viserys raised his cup and spoke first.
"My dear family, you are all of dragon's blood. Welcome to this feast."
As he spoke, he reached out and patted Rhaegar's shoulder.
Rhaegar poured himself a drink and raised his cup in response.
The others followed suit, lifting their goblets.
Viserys gave a short speech, clearly overjoyed. He repeatedly mentioned the importance of his eldest son's coming-of-age ceremony.
"Everyone, what do you think would be the best way to celebrate a grand coming-of-age ceremony?"
With an expectant look, Viserys scanned the room.
"Rhaegar has not yet been knighted. Perhaps a tourney would be fitting?"
Rhaenys, the eldest in both age and status, suggested the idea that had been discussed in the council.
It had been three years since the battle in the Stepstones, and King's Landing had hosted numerous banquets in that time.
There had also been several royal hunts.
A tourney, which had not been held for a long time, would be an excellent choice.
"A fine suggestion, cousin."
Viserys praised the idea, but his gaze soon landed on Daemon, who was drinking silently.
His expression turned stern.
"Daemon, what do you think?"
This banquet was meant to ease the tense and confrontational relationship between Daemon and his nephews.
"Here's your chance. Why don't you speak up?"
"Uh..."
Caught off guard by being called out, Daemon's eyes flickered slightly. He tapped his chin with his index finger and pondered before saying, "Cousin makes a good point. I agree!"
"Hmph, I agree too."
At the corner of the table, Aegon swayed his head exaggeratedly, echoing in a mocking tone.
Daemon glanced at him indifferently.
This foolish nephew was far more annoying than his older brother.
"Heh."
Rhaegar chuckled softly, resting his chin on his hands.
His expression, filled with amusement, was laced with mockery.
Daemon had spent two years in the dungeons and was only freed last year.
Viserys had justified Daemon's release with one reason—redemption.
Rhaegar didn't care about the "redemption" part. He didn't believe this so-called "good uncle" could threaten his position.
What he did care about was the "achievement."
Three years ago, during an argument, Viserys had proposed appointing Daemon as the Governor of the Narrow Sea to maintain peace in the Stepstones.
At the time, Rhaegar didn't want Daemon to be released, nor did he want him to assume the position of Governor of the Narrow Sea.
To him, the Stepstones were a land of endless conflict but also a treasure trove of wealth.
They should be firmly controlled by the royal family, with military forces stationed there to keep it in check.
He had opposed his father's proposal.
But no one had expected Viserys to present an even more alarming suggestion—
To grant Aegon a fiefdom in the Stepstones and bestow upon him the title of Prince of the Stepstones.
The justification? To permanently incorporate the Stepstones into the Targaryen kingdom while also keeping an eye on Daemon's duties in the Narrow Sea.
As soon as this proposal was made, Rhaegar's opposition nearly shook the walls of the Red Keep.
Setting aside Aegon's personality, abilities, and personal wishes,
Granting land—especially a distant and contested territory like the Stepstones—
Was crossing Rhaegar's bottom line.
Throughout Targaryen history, the only member to hold a fief was the Crown Prince, who was traditionally titled Prince of Dragonstone.
In times of peace,
Even without land, the Targaryens residing in King's Landing were already a great burden on the royal treasury.
The Targaryens were proud and unruly, unwilling to submit to others.
Except for the children of Jaehaerys I, every generation had fought openly and secretly for the throne.
Granting land to a Targaryen who had tamed a dragon, like Aegon, was akin to releasing a tiger back into the wild—fueling ambition.
Moreover, if Aegon were granted land today, what about Aemond and Daeron tomorrow?
And then, of course, the "good uncle" Daemon.
As one of the only two adult male Targaryens, should he be granted land as well? If so, where? And from where would the land be taken?
If they were given territories, would they be manipulated into developing ambitions they shouldn't have?
Rhaegar had considered all of these issues.
As a king and father, Viserys should have as well.
Yet, he insisted on his course of action, pushing for land grants without any safeguards in place.
"Rhaegar, what do you think about a tournament?"
Viserys ignored the silent battle between his sons and his brother, smiling as he asked.
He was well aware of his eldest son's resentment.
But he had also adjusted his own stance.
Daemon had been imprisoned for two years—more than enough punishment.
Of course, this was on the condition that both uncle and nephew no longer harbored grudges over their past dragon-backed attacks on each other.
Aegon had not been granted the entirety of the Stepstones—only Bloodstone.
The princely title had not been conferred, and he still held only the title of prince.
Furthermore, the fortress on Bloodstone was still under construction, and there was no sign of a completed castle.
For the past three years, Aegon had essentially been unpaid labor, helping to guard the Stepstones.
Whenever he returned to King's Landing, he practically drowned himself in the pleasure houses. If no one dragged him out, he would never leave.
In Viserys' view, he had minimized the potential trouble.
Nothing that would hinder his eldest son's future.
And because he hadn't taken absolute action, while Rhaegar was upset, he reluctantly accepted the current situation.
In time, when the opportunity arose, he would establish rules to prevent problems from emerging.
Returning to the present, Rhaegar nodded in agreement. "No problem. I was just considering the matter of knightly investitures."
Without revealing flames or sigils, sheer skill alone could earn one a good ranking.
"Good, then it's decided. We'll discuss the tournament venue later."
Viserys thought of the newly restored Harrenhal.
Since his falling out with his eldest son, he hadn't visited Harrenhal.
Holding the tournament there would give him an excuse to take a look—and to escape King's Landing for a while.
With that, the evening feast officially began.
Rhaenyra and Alicent sat on either side of Viserys, serving him dishes.
Viserys smiled contentedly, enjoying the attention from his wife and daughter.
Meanwhile, Rhaegar helped himself to his own food, occasionally glancing at Aegon and Daemon.
Daemon was the Governor of the Narrow Sea. In theory, this meant overseeing the entire region.
But in reality, his jurisdiction was limited to the Stepstones.
He had to constantly guard against pirate raids and retaliation from the Three Daughters.
A classic case of great responsibility with little power—thankless and exhausting.
Aegon's fief was on Bloodstone, but the royal treasury allocated limited funds each year, delaying castle construction indefinitely.
And since he served under Daemon, he was constantly ordered around.
Over time, Daemon's arrogance clashed with Aegon's laziness.
The two couldn't stand each other, and their relationship deteriorated.
At one point, Daemon had lost patience and physically disciplined the slacker, completely earning his nephew's enmity.
Aegon feared Rhaegar but had no such fear of his uncle, who had once been beaten down by his older brother.
So he constantly tried to irritate Daemon, spending most of his time on Bloodstone making trouble for him.
Not breaking any major rules, but committing small offenses repeatedly.
Like a toad crawling up one's foot—not biting, just disgusting.
And Daemon, bound by his official duties, couldn't do anything about it.
Gradually, realizing that Viserys only wanted him to maintain security in the Stepstones, Daemon abandoned the broader responsibilities of the Governor of the Narrow Sea.
He returned to Driftmark and immersed himself in the embrace of Laena Velaryon.
After two years without a woman, his reunion with Laena was like dry wood meeting fire.
(End of Chapter)