The feast continued late into the night.
Baelon had finally reached the limits of his endurance.
He was just about to bid his father farewell when Daemon suddenly seemed to remember something and beckoned him over.
“Great nephew, I heard that you were particularly fond of reading while you were in Oldtown.
I came across this ancient book during the campaign.
Consider it a gift to welcome you into the family and offer you my blessings.”
“I hope that one day you will become a prince of immense learning.”
Daemon’s choice of words was rather clever.
With everyone slightly drunk, he quietly concealed his intentions beneath an innocent-sounding gift.
Nearby, Viserys watched his brother showing such concern for his nephew, and his face filled with satisfaction.
“Baelon, don’t disappoint your uncle’s good intentions.
You must not only work hard at your studies, but also become an heir who excels in both learning and fighting!”
“I understand, Father.
I certainly won’t disappoint Uncle’s kindness!”
Baelon smiled as he accepted the ancient book.
He even gave his dear uncle a separate bow to express his gratitude.
“My child, Daemon is family.
There is no need for such formalities between family members,” Viserys reminded him gently.
Rhaenyra lightly tapped Baelon on the head and whispered into his ear, “Baelon, you are the future heir to the Iron Throne.
Show some dignity worthy of a future king!”
Although Rhaenyra genuinely liked their uncle, her heart clearly favored Baelon, the brother who shared her blood and whom she had cared for since childhood.
“Can’t you stop hitting me on the head?” Baelon hurriedly stepped to the side.
“What if I become an idiot?”
“That’s fine.
If you really become an idiot, I’ll lock you up in the Red Keep and take care of you for the rest of your life.”
Rhaenyra pinched Baelon’s cheek with a smile.
“Then I’ll pass.”
Baelon immediately shook his head.
“You forget things all the time.
If I really let you take care of me, what happens if one day you forget that I’m still locked in the Red Keep?”
Faced with such an unromantic little brother, Rhaenyra smiled sweetly.
“Baelon, whatever you do, don’t lock your door tonight.
Your beloved sister is going to show you exactly what the wrath of a sleeping dragon feels like!”
I’m doomed.
Am I even going to survive tonight?
In the end, Viserys came to Baelon’s rescue and sent him off to rest with his new book.
…
His mastery of High Valyrian allowed him to read it without difficulty.
The book contained the observations of a dragonlord family known as the Vhagar, particularly their understanding of dragons and these magical creatures.
After decades of accumulated experience, they had made a startling discovery: prolonged confinement restricted a dragon’s growth.
Dragons were creatures born of magic.
They needed to fight one another, soar freely through the skies, and consume vast quantities of food if they were to grow strong.
It was much like the Dothraki’s obsession with powerful horses.
Only the strongest and most magnificent stallions of the grasslands were considered worthy of fathering the next generation.
Dragons were no different.
As magical creatures, even severe injuries could be healed at an accelerated rate through the consumption of food, provided the wounds were not fatal.
Beyond that, the Vhagar dragonlord family had recorded their own experiences with taming dragons.
For example, while dragons were still young, they would use simulated exercises to teach them how to evade attacks and hunt.
They had even recorded how a dragon and its rider could spend time together to establish a bond as quickly as possible, along with what kinds of food should be provided during a dragon’s youth to encourage rapid growth.
There were also notes on the individual habits and temperaments of different dragons.
One treasure after another seemed to be buried within the pages, and Baelon felt as though he had discovered an entirely new continent.
He had to admit that when it came to raising dragons, taming dragons, and understanding their nature, the Vhagar dragonlord family was far ahead of House Targaryen.
These were extraordinarily important discoveries for House Targaryen.
They could even determine how well the family controlled and ruled its dragons.
“It’s a shame the writing on the later pages has become so blurred that I can’t make it out.”
Baelon silently sighed.
Still, the section concerning restrictions on a dragon’s development reminded him of something.
Almost all the dragons belonging to his family were kept in the dragonpits of the Red Keep or Dragonstone, where they spent much of their time sleeping.
The maesters of the Citadel had even recommended shackling young dragons and adult dragons alike to prevent them from fighting one another, injuring themselves, or harming newly hatched dragons.
On one side was the accumulated wisdom of a dragonlord lineage that had existed for more than a thousand years.
On the other was the Citadel, an institution Baelon had known since childhood, one that had never truly been friendly toward House Targaryen.
The choice required almost no thought.
“Confinement slows a dragon’s growth.”
“I need to find an opportunity to suggest to Father that the chains be removed and the dragons released from their dragonpits so they can be raised freely.”
Baelon quietly considered the matter.
He then placed the precious book beneath his pillow.
As an excellent scholar himself, Baelon understood better than anyone that priceless knowledge could not be exchanged for gold or anything else.
The only unfortunate thing was that this ancient book from Old Valyria was apparently unique.
If he could collect more such works, then House Targaryen’s rise would no longer depend solely on its dragons.
It could also inherit the ancient knowledge and traditions of the dragonlords of Old Valyria.
“I’ll ask my dear uncle tomorrow morning.
If he was able to find books like this one, there can’t possibly be only a single copy.”
With that thought, Baelon contentedly lay down and fell asleep.
The night passed quickly.
For once, Baelon had enjoyed an entire night without nightmares.
Yet even so, the dark circles beneath his eyes showed no sign of disappearing.
“No wonder my dear uncle looked at me with such contempt.
Looking half-dead like this, anyone who saw me would probably have the same reaction.”
Baelon stared at his reflection in the glass and helplessly sighed.
His dark circles might not be something he could solve immediately, but the knowledge inside his head had undeniably increased.
While studying the book belonging to the Vhagar family, Baelon suddenly noticed several subtle details.
Dragons were not merely simple magical creatures.
They possessed intelligence no less remarkable than that of humans, and they could be extremely particular about their food.
Some dragons would attack members of their own family indiscriminately during attempts at taming.
Others would deliberately adopt an aggressive posture simply to test the personality of the person trying to tame them.
Because of this, the Vhagar family had developed different methods of dragon taming for dragons with different personalities after suffering numerous failures.
Unfortunately, the book did not explicitly record the complete methods.
If Baelon had not been such a meticulous reader, these crucial pieces of information would almost certainly have been overlooked.
After returning the book beneath his pillow, Baelon got out of bed, dressed himself, and went downstairs for breakfast.
Viserys sat at the head of the table.
Rhaenyra occupied the first seat to his left.
Alicent and her children sat on his right, while Daemon sat directly opposite Viserys.
“Good morning, Father.”
Baelon greeted them before taking his seat beside Rhaenyra.
“Good morning, my child.
You look a little pale.”
Viserys put down his knife and fork and looked at his eldest son with concern.
“I’m fine, Father.
I simply stayed up a little late reading yesterday.”
Taking advantage of the opportunity, Baelon turned toward Daemon, who was eating a piece of bread.
“Uncle, was the ancient book you gave me really the only copy?”
Daemon raised his head, a hint of scrutiny hidden within his gaze.
“Of course not.
The question is, can you actually understand it?”
Baelon shook his head.
“I simply thought some of the illustrations were fascinating.
I wanted to see everything in the collection.”
Hearing that answer, the corners of Daemon’s mouth unconsciously lifted.
“No problem.
I’ll send a raven to the Sea Snake.
I’ll have him dispatch a merchant ship and send those ancient books to King’s Landing.”