“Baelon?
Weren’t you in Oldtown?
Why have you suddenly come to King’s Landing?!”
Viserys was both shocked and delighted.
He almost immediately rose from his seat and hurried toward his long-unseen eldest son and heir, Baelon Targaryen.
“Prince Baelon.”
The other members of the Small Council rose one after another and respectfully acknowledged the king’s eldest son.
No matter how long Baelon had been absent from King’s Landing or how frail his health might be, as long as he remained alive, he was still the king’s eldest son and first in line to the Iron Throne.
Baelon smiled as his gaze swept across every member of the council from right to left.
In the end, his eyes settled on Otto Hightower, the king’s former Hand.
“Lord Otto, I don’t believe I’ve ever properly thanked your family for taking care of me in Oldtown.
Your meticulous concern and thoughtful attention left quite a deep impression on me.”
“If I ever have the opportunity, I will be sure to properly ‘thank’ you.”
Baelon delivered the line he had prepared long ago with a smile.
Aside from the emotionally agitated king, every lord present immediately sensed the hidden meaning behind the prince’s words.
One after another, they glanced toward Otto Hightower, seemingly wondering whether he truly had the courage to do such a thing—or perhaps simply marveling that he had dared to go so far.
Rhaenyra delivered the line she and Baelon had rehearsed beforehand.
“Father, the High Septon and several Grand Maesters have sent letters saying that Prince Baelon’s health is improving tremendously.”
“The only problem is that my brother isn’t some pampered pet trapped inside a cage.
He needs to see a wider sky and soar through it like a dragon.”
“I believe the royal hunt in five days would be an excellent opportunity, so I flew to Oldtown on dragonback and brought my brother home.”
Viserys gave an enlightened little “Oh,” his expression softening with understanding.
He then spoke apologetically.
“I’m sorry, Rhaenyra.
I misunderstood your good intentions.”
He crouched down and carefully examined his eldest son, whom he had not seen in six long years.
The more closely he looked, the more he realized how much Baelon resembled his mother.
“You’ve grown so thin, my child.”
“Forgive me for being unable to see you for six years, and for never going to Oldtown to visit you.”
“I was afraid that my presence would interfere with your penance before the Seven and, in turn, affect your health.”
Baelon smiled and shook his head.
“How could I blame you, Father?
Being able to come here with my sister and see you is the greatest happiness I could ask for.”
“And please don’t blame me for leaving Oldtown without your permission.”
Baelon had spent years matching wits with Ormund Hightower.
He knew exactly what words to say and what expression to wear to awaken his father’s guilt.
Even if Otto later exposed the lie Rhaenyra had fabricated, Viserys would never blame Baelon for it.
Sure enough, when Viserys heard his son’s understanding words, guilt immediately appeared on his face.
He gently placed both hands on Baelon’s shoulders.
“My child, you were born to soar through the heavens like a dragon.”
“As your father, I agree to your request.
But there is one condition.
You must remain by my side, and you absolutely cannot do anything dangerous.
Can you promise me that?”
“Of course!”
Baelon nodded excitedly.
Viserys happily kissed his son’s forehead before looking toward Rhaenyra.
“My daughter, you may see to your brother’s arrangements.”
Rhaenyra nodded seriously, then turned and led Baelon out of the Small Council chamber.
The Red Keep was vast and magnificent, with countless rooms occupying its upper levels.
However, Baelon’s arrival had been rather sudden, and the servants needed some time to prepare a suitable chamber for him.
To ensure her brother’s safety, Rhaenyra barely hesitated before deciding to let him stay in her own room.
“You can rest here for now.
Once your room has been prepared, I’ll have you moved there.”
Baelon nodded sleepily.
He gave Rhaenyra a perfunctory wave before collapsing onto the soft, comfortable bed and falling into a deep sleep.
Rhaenyra smiled helplessly.
She leaned down, kissed her brother lightly on the cheek, and left the room.
Once Baelon sank into sleep, he entered the strange dreamscape once more.
This time, however, the dream was different.
There was no storm, no war.
The winds were calm and the sky peaceful.
Baelon stood atop the Red Keep, gazing into the distance at the sprawling city of King’s Landing.
“Now this is a rare sight…”
Baelon could not help sighing with emotion.
There was no black dragon.
No war.
No terrible storms.
Everything was so peaceful.
If my dreams were always like this, perhaps these dark circles beneath my eyes would disappear soon, and I could finally look like a normal prince.
Clearly, some things could exist only in fantasy.
Just as Baelon closed his eyes and began enjoying the tranquility…
“Roar—!”
That familiar sound reached his ears.
Cannibal, whose enormous body was nearly as large as half a castle, flew leisurely overhead.
Its emerald-green eyes even turned toward Baelon, watching him with what seemed almost like deliberate provocation.
“Fuck.
I knew my dream wasn’t going to stay peaceful.”
Baelon had no desire to look at Cannibal, so he simply shifted his body and stared toward the opposite side of King’s Landing.
Cannibal seemed annoyed.
The enormous dragon immediately changed direction and moved into Baelon’s field of vision.
Then it rapidly closed the distance between them.
The moment it was close enough, Cannibal opened its jaws and unleashed a torrent of green dragonflame.
Baelon did not panic.
He simply allowed the green flames to swallow him completely, covering every inch of his body.
“Are you seriously still doing this?”
Baelon helplessly shook his arm.
The two of them had, after all, been appearing together in his dreams for four years.
Over that long period, they seemed to have developed a strange, unspoken understanding of one another.
Baelon knew how terrifying Cannibal was.
The dragon’s flames burned like countless needles piercing his flesh, making his days and nights unbearable, yet they had never once taken his life.
Cannibal seemed to understand the same thing.
It was almost as though the enormous dragon possessed human intelligence.
With its savage and terrifying appearance and its searing, unbearable dragonflame, it repeatedly tested Baelon’s courage and nerve.
This time, however, when Cannibal saw that Baelon was completely unfazed, it stopped breathing fire.
Instead, it calmly flew to Baelon’s side and opened its jaws.
A completely white stag tumbled from its mouth.
Baelon recognized the creature.
He had read about it in the ancient histories preserved in Oldtown.
The White Hart, king of the forest.
According to the old tales, it appeared only before those with the qualities of a true king.
“Why are you giving this to me?”
Baelon looked at Cannibal in confusion.
But the dragon was already gone.
It had flown ahead toward the distant Kingswood.
Baelon stared after it in silence.
Then he woke in his bed.
By now, evening was approaching.
Through the window, he could clearly hear servants bustling about outside, apparently preparing for some sort of family feast.
“Baelon, wake up!
Father has specifically prepared a family feast to celebrate your return!”
Rhaenyra opened the door and entered with several handmaids responsible for bathing and dressing the prince.
“There’s no need to make such a fuss, Sister.
Just find me some black clothes and that’ll be enough.”
Baelon rubbed his eyes, still looking as though he had barely woken from his sleep.
“What kind of terrible joke is that?”
Rhaenyra stared at him.
“Tonight is a family feast.
Alicent and all three of her children will be there!”
“You’re my younger brother, the king’s eldest son, and the only heir to the Iron Throne.
You have to crush that bitch Alicent in every possible way!”
Rhaenyra carefully began dressing Baelon, the anger in her eyes so obvious that she might as well have written it across her face.
Baelon had heard Maester Orwyle explain some of the history between Rhaenyra and Alicent.
In essence, two girls who had once been close friends had suddenly found themselves cast as stepmother and daughter.
“Sister, we have nothing to fear from anyone.”
At such a young age, Baelon spoke the words that were perhaps the most reassuring thing his sister could have heard.
“Baelon, some things are better left unsaid until you’re older.”
Rhaenyra gently pinched his cheek.
There was no mockery in her expression.
Only anticipation.
Not long afterward, Baelon was fully dressed.
He and Rhaenyra then walked together into the hall.