Daemon left the chambers.
Ser Erryk returned Dark Sister to his hand without ceremony.
Once the prince was gone, Helaena appeared at the door, arms wrapped around a thick storybook, steps careful and quiet.
“Ser Erryk, please let me in.
My brother promised that if I could not sleep I could come for a story.” Erryk hesitated.
The prince had only just said he meant to rest.
Opening the door now might earn the white cloak lasting resentment.
Helaena patted her own chest with the solemn gravity of a grown woman.
“It will be all right.
My brother will never punish you.
I promise.” Baelor’s voice came from inside.
“Erryk—who is outside?” “Princess Helaena, my prince.
She asks for a story.” A story?
At this hour?
Baelor’s mind went blank for a moment.
The girl had clung to him before, but midnight was another matter entirely.
If Rhaenyra or the fiercely protective Alicent ever learned of this, he would be fortunate to escape with only a layer of skin missing.
He chose the safer path at once.
“My sweet Helaena, my dear little sister—it is far too late.
Shall we save the story for tomorrow?” “You are lying, brother!
You said if I could not sleep I could come and listen!” Tears already thickened her voice.
Baelor opened the door and scooped the small figure into his arms before the noise could grow.
“Fine.
I am helpless against you.
What story do you want?” “The one about the Song of Ice and Fire that you never finished last time.” She set the book aside and curled against his chest.
Baelor’s brow furrowed.
He knew the legend only from old volumes in Oldtown and a few half-drunken remarks of his father’s.
Turning it into a tale gentle enough to lull a child to sleep was another matter.
He decided to lean on the prophecy of the prince that was promised and reshape it into something suitably mysterious.
“Born again amidst smoke and salt… raising the burning sword Lightbringer… and the dragons will be needed…” He kept the telling deliberately strange, half magic, half riddle, the kind of story that forced a listener to think.
Helaena drank every word.
Sometimes her eyes widened with bright excitement; sometimes she lowered her head and murmured soft phrases he could not quite catch.
After a quarter-hour the tale drew near its end.
Baelor glanced at the water clock on the table and gently stroked her hair.
“That is enough for tonight.
Time for sleep, Helaena.” “But you told it wrong, brother.” Her voice was earnest.
“I saw it.
A true dragon never fears fire, because it is born from the fire itself.” Baelor remembered.
She had said almost the same words the last time he told the story.
Stubbornness alone did not explain the repetition.
“Where did you see that, Helaena?
And which dragon do you mean?” She lifted her face and smiled with open pride.
“You, brother.
I saw it in a dream.
You were on fire, and then you became a great, great dragon!” Her hands stretched wide, painting a creature larger and more marvelous than any magic.
Baelor answered with a gentle threat.
“Very well.
Now go to sleep, or that dragon will open its jaws and swallow you whole.” He carried her back to her own chambers before she could change her mind and return.
Helaena only nuzzled his cheek, unafraid and delighted.
Once she was safely behind her door, Baelor returned to his own bed.
… Morning arrived.
After breakfast Baelor set out for the Dragonpit with Rhaenyra, Helaena, and his good uncle Daemon.
The plan was simple: first test the waters with the gentlest of the great dragons—Silverwing.
Aegon did not join them.
Alicent refused to risk her son in the same party as Baelor; any accident that touched the boy would mean the end of House Hightower’s hopes.
Helaena was another matter.
Alicent could no longer fully control the child.
Forbid her and the girl would simply follow in secret.
The queen settled for assigning extra guards under her own authority.
… In time they reached the volcanic caves that served as Dragonstone’s natural Dragonpit.
The heat there suited both sleeping dragons and the warming of eggs.
Vermithor and Silverwing were often found within.
Baelor spoke in High Valyrian to the captain of the Dragonkeepers who guided them.
“Has Silverwing shown any change this morning?” The captain placed a hand over his heart and bowed.
“Rest easy, my prince.
We fed her enough sheep at dawn.
Her temper is steady.
You may approach without fear.” Baelor kept the performance complete.
“And Vermithor?” “His mood is foul.
When we tried to feed him at first light he nearly roasted one of the keepers.
If you mean to claim him, my prince, I would not advise today.” A restless great dragon carried too much uncertainty.
They would never allow the king’s firstborn to face that risk lightly.
Baelor nodded with careful disappointment.
“I see.
And the Cannibal?
Any fresh word of the wild one?” The captain shook his head again.
“Forgive me, my prince.
The Cannibal’s movements have always been strange.
Finding its true location demands patience.” Patience.
Baelor’s thoughts turned cold.
Patience is the one thing I no longer possess.
… Outside the castle of Dragonstone, a woman in a black robe was led by a silent maid into the queen’s private solar.
She dropped to one knee before Alicent.
“Your Grace.” Alicent sat rigid in a wooden chair, fighting to keep both face and nerves under control.
“Rise, witch.” The black-robed woman stood with a small smile.
“I prefer the title wizard, Your Grace.
It is the name we of Asshai give our own.” Alicent’s fingers tightened in her lap.
“Tell me the truth.
How certain are you of success against the target?” “Against two or three ordinary men, my chances stand at eight in ten.
That number does not include dragons.” Alicent understood the limit perfectly.
The difficulty lay elsewhere.
Viserys had placed such weight on his firstborn that he had sent both Rhaenyra and Daemon to fly escort.
The entire purpose of the journey was to see the boy claim a dragon of his own.
The Asshai’i wizard inclined her head, as though reading the queen’s unspoken fear.
“I sense your trouble, Your Grace.
If the number of guardians or the presence of dragons is the obstacle, then remove them by the same means.” Alicent’s eyes lifted sharply.
“What do you mean?” “Use men against men.
Use dragons against dragons.”