Get comfortable, turn the page, and let’s see what this story has been hiding 🔥 ✦ Being scolded by a child in an adult’s tone left Ser Criston Cole frozen in place.
He opened his mouth in displeasure, wanting to defend his actions.
Bang!
A hand as broad as a fan planted itself in front of his chest, and a tall shadow fell over him.
Gunthor had appeared at some point, his face dark.
“White cloak, you are blocking our prince’s path.” As he spoke, he took one wild, overbearing step forward and forced the pretty-faced knight back.
Cole was startled.
Gunthor’s steel-brush beard almost stabbed into his face.
The castle forecourt was crowded, so this scene naturally fell into the eyes of outside lords and guests.
There was a show to watch.
People nearby gathered as if they had smelled trouble, watching and whispering with open interest.
Vaelor looked up in surprise.
“Gunthor, you are here?” “Mm.” Gunthor answered lightly, his eyes fixed on the white knight, who still looked unconvinced.
The three guards had been left in the outer court.
The other two were tidying rooms and waiting for orders.
The big man had wandered off alone to sample some Red Keep food and drink.
By chance, he had seen his prince scolding the man who had questioned him.
“Hk-tui.” Right in front of the white knight, Gunthor moved his thick lips and spat arrogantly to the side.
Working for others had left him in a bad mood, and now he had found a softer target to vent on.
Faced with naked humiliation, Cole’s face turned livid.
His hand immediately closed around the sword at his waist.
“You may try,” Gunthor said with a grin.
He had only one rough life to spend.
If someone refused to accept that, they could fight.
Cole’s eyes swept the crowd, and anger made his whole body tremble.
If not for the onlookers around them, he would have wanted to kill this brute on the spot.
Vaelor stood between them and looked at Gunthor with delighted surprise.
Look at that world-weary face.
Even with every line of it filled with a hired man’s resentment toward life, he still chose to uphold his duty.
Standing opposite Cole, Gunthor was more than a head taller than the already tall and martial knight, his broad body like a fortress.
‘So this is the sense of safety given by the Bronze Giant?’ Vaelor almost clapped.
“Cole!
What are you doing?” Just as the conflict was about to escalate, a powerful shout rang out.
Vaelor turned and quickly examined the newcomer.
A tall middle-aged man near fifty strode in through the Red Keep gate with a commanding presence.
He too wore the silver armor and white cloak of honor.
Lord Commander Ser Harrold Westerling of the Kingsguard.
Seeing his superior, Cole’s expression shifted.
He lowered his head.
“Lord Commander.” “I asked what happened, Cole.” Harrold’s face was stern, and he showed no favoritism.
Cole lowered his head further and stepped back.
By now, he knew he had struck iron.
Vaelor watched like an uninvolved bystander, curious how the Lord Commander intended to handle it.
“Prince, he did not delay your precious time, I hope?” Harrold turned and asked gently.
Cole was newly raised to the Kingsguard.
When he took the white cloak, even Queen Aemma had already passed away.
It was normal that he had not seen Prince Vaelor and had accidentally caused a conflict.
But that had to be corrected in time.
“It was nothing.” Vaelor nodded lightly and greeted him.
“It has been a long time, ser.” Harrold removed his helm and secretly let out a breath.
As long as the prince did not press the matter, it would be fine.
At that moment, a graceful figure entered through the Red Keep gate and looked curiously toward them.
Vaelor noticed her and paused.
She was a silver-haired girl, still young, dressed in black riding clothes.
As she walked, she pulled off her gloves, her long legs carrying her forward.
She was beautiful, her features fine and delicate, her skin almost too flawless.
She had perfectly inherited the otherworldly beauty of House Targaryen, with hardly a defect to be found.
Rhaenyra Targaryen tilted her head and studied the little fellow watching her.
The same silver hair.
The same purple eyes.
Blood calling to blood.
After a moment, Vaelor recognized her first and called out, “Rhaenyra.” Her eyes lit up at once.
“Vaelor?
It really is you!” Her steps quickened, and the gloom that had hung around her vanished.
It had been a long time since she had seen this little one.
Seeing that she recognized him, Vaelor smiled and went to meet her.
“Yes.
This morning, you looked very impressive flying your dragon.” Rhaenyra’s face shifted slightly.
With some hesitation, she asked, “I did not…
hit your ship, did I?” “Mm-hm.” Vaelor rolled his eyes.
So she knew.
“I am sorry.
I was in a foul mood then and did not know you were aboard.” Rhaenyra quickly apologized and reached out to rub his head.
His hair was fluffy.
The feel was excellent.
“I forgive you.
Compensate me later.” Vaelor was very generous and made a show of not holding grudges.
As the two chatted, the crowd slowly dispersed.
Harrold’s face did not change as he quietly gave Cole a look.
Cole withdrew in silence.
The princess had arrived, so the matter was more or less over.
Vaelor noticed it keenly and did not bother pursuing anything.
It had not been a great matter.
Cole was the one who had suffered.
No matter how loud it grew, no one would lose a head over it.
“Rhaenyra, did you just come back from the Dragonpit?” Vaelor still had important business.
He took her soft little hand and looked up with worshipful eyes.
“I just returned.
Can you take me around the Dragonpit?” Balerion the Black Dread’s skull had given him one hundred essence.
A living dragon might not match Balerion, but its body should gather plenty of magic too.
How could he not make a proper profit from that?
Rhaenyra naturally held his small hand and led him toward Maegor’s Holdfast.
“Of course.
But it is already very late today.” “Then another day.
Take me with you.” Vaelor was not picky.
He had patience, and he had methods.
Inside the king’s bedchamber, candlelight flickered.
Viserys Targaryen, exhausted from the day, reclined comfortably in a chair and spoke.
“Do you think what I said is feasible?” He was Viserys I Targaryen, the fifth king to sit the Iron Throne.
His silver-gold hair lay loose across his shoulders.
Fine stubble covered his chin.
His face was ordinary, but very kind.
At first glance, he looked more like a wealthy gentleman than a king.
“Vaelor’s matter?” Alicent sat nearby, distracted, and turned back only when she heard him.
“Yes.
He is a good choice.” Viserys looked full of spring cheer as he lifted his bandaged ring finger.
He seemed to be in an excellent mood.
“The Small Council did not agree on everything, but at least it was a good beginning.” He had recently lost sleep over his daughter’s marriage.
At last, there was some direction.
Rhaenyra was twelve this year.
In another two years, she would be considered grown enough, and noble houses across the realm had already sent letters proposing matches.
The letters were stacked higher than a table.
Alicent’s brows drew together slightly.
She asked carefully, “My father agreed as well?” “Of course.” Viserys answered at once, and his smile deepened.
Otto Hightower’s support had been unexpected.
Alicent lowered her head, hiding the doubt in her eyes, and suggested, “Vaelor is young.
Perhaps there is a better candidate.” Stepmothers and stepdaughters had rarely been close.
Vaelor was an innocent child.
She did not want to drag the little boy whom the Old King had entrusted to her care into this.
Viserys sat straighter.
He was puzzled, but he made himself smile calmly.
“Before the Small Council, some did discuss Ser Laenor of House Velaryon.
He is also a candidate.” That was what he said, but his tightened brow made clear that Laenor was not the person he preferred.
Behind Vaelor stood Runestone, and through him, Daemon.
Choosing him would not only strengthen the royal family but might also mend the bond between brothers.
By comparison, Laenor was the son of Corlys the Sea Snake.
House Velaryon of Driftmark was undoubtedly a mountain pressing down on Viserys’s heart.
✦ ✦ ✦ Ready for more?
CREATORS’ THOUGHTS EmberHollow Thank you for reading.
I hope this chapter pulled you deeper into the story.
Stick around, because there’s still a lot waiting just ahead.