Get comfortable, turn the page, and let’s see what this story has been hiding 🔥 ✦ When the king wished something, refusal was not an option.
Viserys was very satisfied and laughed.
“Excellent.
As Lord Commander, do you have someone to recommend?” “Ah…” Harrold paused, sorting quickly through names in his mind.
Within the Kingsguard, martial ability carried weight.
He was older now and usually followed the king or princess.
Among the other white cloaks, Cole’s skill was unquestionably high.
He had defeated the Cargyll twins, both also Kingsguard, in a tourney and was in the prime of his strength.
However, Cole was favored by the princess and widely considered the “princess’s white cloak.” Harrold’s brows tightened.
No matter whom he chose, the decision was difficult.
Aside from himself and Cole, Ser Lorent and the Cargyll brothers were roughly equal in skill, all men capable of fighting ten.
The king still needed their protection.
Among the remaining two…
At last, Harrold chose and whispered into the king’s ear.
“Him, then.” Viserys came to a sudden understanding and called to one of the white knights guarding the door.
“Ser Steffon, your king has need of you.” Vaelor had no right to choose, so he looked toward the entrance.
The two white knights standing left and right both turned at the sound.
Vaelor saw clearly that the man on the right was the same white knight who had driven the wheelhouse to meet him that morning.
“Your Grace, what is your command?” Ser Steffon Darklyn strode forward, utterly sincere.
Viserys straightened his clothes and said solemnly, “From today onward, I hope you will serve as Vaelor Targaryen’s knightly instructor and help him become a true knight.” “Teach Prince Vaelor?” Ser Steffon was stunned.
He had not heard anything about this.
After giving the order, Viserys added, “If there is some inconvenience, you may say so.” “Speak freely,” Harrold added, his expression grave.
Steffon quickly reacted and answered with equal gravity, “It would be my honor, Your Grace.” The king was a tolerant man and would consider the wishes of those around him.
But once a man wore the white cloak, private feelings could not rule him.
“Good.” Viserys patted his arm and looked at his nephew.
“Well?
From now on, this white knight will teach you.” The weight of a Kingsguard knight was not light.
“It is my honor as well.” Vaelor stood, his plump face very serious.
This could not be refused, and there was no reason to refuse it.
In this era, the Kingsguard still had real worth, unlike the later scraps thrown together to fill white cloaks.
He was still small and needed loyal, brave protectors like this.
At worst, he would avoid speaking ill of his uncle behind the man’s back and keep any small schemes out of sight.
“Ha!
Good.” Viserys smiled broadly.
The more he looked at his nephew, the more pleased he became.
Blood was blood.
In the past, to stabilize his place on the Iron Throne, he had been cold toward his young nephew and had failed in his duties as an uncle.
Now that his own line had begun to branch, he ought to look after his nephews and children.
Look at that plump, clean little face.
No matter how he looked, the boy was lovable.
Far more sensible than his disgraceful younger brother.
Vaelor went back to eating.
“A truly good child,” Viserys thought, very fondly.
The next day, Prince Aegon’s second nameday feast was held, warming the court up for the royal hunt to follow.
Guests from every side arrived, filling the Red Keep until it was packed.
“Ya, ya.” A great crowd of princes, lords, and nobles gathered in a circle, teasing the little star of the feast.
Little Aegon was held by a plump maid while Alicent watched from beside them, smiling as he was displayed for everyone’s praise.
One person said his hair looked like his father’s.
Another said his eyes looked like his father’s.
“His nose looks like mine too, does it not?” Viserys held a cup in one hand and pinched his eldest son’s cheek with the other, making the little thing wail.
Vaelor mixed in beside a table laden with delicacies, carrying a plate and eating with great enthusiasm.
No one recognized him, so he could be casual.
He watched the commotion and enjoyed the food.
“Prince, you are still growing.
You should eat smaller portions more often.” Ser Steffon, dressed in silver armor and a white cloak, stood nearby and felt obliged to remind him.
Vaelor lifted his head.
Sticky jam clung to the corner of his mouth as he smiled honestly.
“Of course, ser.” He happened to be full anyway.
Ser Steffon nodded lightly, and much of his unease faded.
He had heard about Prince Vaelor’s conflict with Cole the day before and had thought the boy might be an unreasonable little terror.
Now it seemed he was easy to get along with.
Vaelor wiped his mouth with a handkerchief.
If he knew what the knight was thinking, he would certainly have told him something.
It was far too early to be happy.
That said, Ser Steffon was still very trustworthy.
Vaelor glanced at the man from the corner of his eye, noting the weathered face that looked older than his years.
He was not as frightening as Gunthor, nor as handsome as the Gull Knight.
He was relatively short, ordinary in appearance, and always looked serious with his brows drawn together.
He did seem rather reliable.
‘And now he follows my orders.’ Vaelor was delighted.
After eating and drinking his fill, he began searching the hall for a familiar graceful figure.
Rhaenyra had promised yesterday that she would take him to the Dragonpit.
He had not forgotten.
“Hm?
Not here?” Vaelor roughly scanned the hall and found no sign of her.
At that moment, a figure entered from outside, cut through the guests, and hurried to the king.
Viserys had finished playing with his son and was happily enjoying the flattery of his ministers.
“Your Grace, urgent news from the Stepstones.” Tyland Lannister leaned close and reported quietly.
Viserys turned and saw his master of ships.
Tyland was upright in bearing, dressed in costly black, his golden hair neatly combed back.
His handsome face was grave.
“Your Grace…” Tyland began again, wanting to explain the war in the Stepstones.
Viserys raised a hand and cut him off.
“Tyland, not today.” “But…” Tyland froze.
“Let the Sea Snake and Daemon worry first.” Viserys did not care.
He turned away to choose some food, unwilling to add to his troubles.
Vaelor, standing at the same table, saw everything.
Viserys noticed him as well and gave his nephew a friendly smile.
Vaelor smiled back and left the table.
It concerned his father Daemon, but he was not very worried.
The Crabfeeder was troublesome, yes, but he still could not escape death in the end.
Before Vaelor had gone far, Tyland’s persistence angered Viserys, and the king began calling loudly under the excuse of looking for his daughter.
“I will go look for her.” Alicent heard him and could guess where Rhaenyra had gone.
The two had been childhood friends and had once shared a secret place.
But after Alicent married Viserys and bore a son, shaking Rhaenyra’s position as heir, their relationship had drifted farther and farther apart.
If Rhaenyra was absent, she was likely avoiding the feast.
Vaelor’s eyes lit up.
He had just wanted to say he would go with Alicent when he was told to help watch the child instead.
“Wait.
I do not know how.” Vaelor’s face went bitter.
He was still a child himself.
Little Aegon was forced into his arms, resisting with a fierce little face.
“Do not fuss.
I object to this too.” Vaelor’s small brows wrinkled.
He was very unwilling.
Little Aegon was unconvinced and struggled hard.
“Ya, ya!” “Use words.” Vaelor’s face darkened.
He was already two and still shouting nonsense.
Did he think he was newborn Helaena?
Little Aegon shook his head and gave him no respect at all.
“Well done.
Do not lose your pride.” Vaelor was not a soft target either.
He refused to lose a battle of wills to a toddler.
Holding little Aegon, he slipped out of the crowd, took a plate of blueberries along the way, and his smile gradually turned wicked.
✦ ✦ ✦ 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.