Get comfortable, turn the page, and let’s see what this story has been hiding 🔥 ✦ Dusk.
The sun sank gradually, staining the edge of the sky red.
“Heave-ho.
Heave-ho.” In a rippling sea of grass stirred by the breeze, a small figure swayed from side to side with all his strength.
Several guards stood around him, watching in surprise.
One of them started forward to help, only for the little figure to stumble backward, unable to stop himself.
“Ow!” Vaelor fell hard on his backside and popped up from the grass with silver-gold hair full of weeds.
“This stuff is impossible to pull.” His rump felt as though it had been split into pieces.
“Prince, do you need help?” one guard asked awkwardly.
“No.
I already succeeded.” Vaelor waved him off.
Clutched tightly in his hand was a fistful of dark-green grass.
[Essence Panel] Magic-rich Ula grass discovered.
Magic Essence +1.
Vaelor was extremely pleased.
He got to his feet and dusted off his backside.
With help from [Guidance: One Use], he had found exactly what he needed.
Naturally, he could not leave good medicine sitting untouched in a pasture.
He had gathered several guards and rushed straight to the eastern coast.
As expected, it had been simple.
“Let’s see what you do.” Vaelor smiled and rubbed his hands together.
The radiant panel appeared.
One of the three cards was gone.
The number beside the golden hourglass had changed.
[Essence Panel] Magic Essence: 7.
He had spent ten points of magic essence on the guidance card, then gained one point from the newly found Ula grass.
The total was exactly right.
The rest of the panel had changed very little.
“So it really is just a plant.” Vaelor held up the Ula grass and studied it again and again, as if a flower might bloom from it if he stared hard enough.
The plant itself was not rare.
In his former life, he had heard of something like it: an old winter herb people dried and tucked into bedding for warmth.
Under the panel’s help, he gradually understood how to use the treasure in his hand.
It needed to be woven into a sleeping mat.
Magic-rich Ula grass stayed warm in winter, cool in summer, and settled the mind.
It could improve the quality of his sleep.
With this, he would no longer have to fear endless strange dreams or a stunted body.
“You really are a good little treasure.” Stars seemed to shine in Vaelor’s violet eyes.
There just was not enough of it.
He could not weave so much as a cushion with one fistful.
But Vaelor was clever.
That problem did not trouble him for long.
He walked a circle in place, scanning the boundless sea of grass around him.
A small opportunity.
Surely there could not be only one clump of Ula grass.
His thoughts raced.
He was already planning the grand business of climbing hills and pulling grass.
“One clump is one point of magic essence.
Ten clumps would be ten points…” With profit like that, how could he stay poor?
The thought had barely formed when someone interrupted him.
“Prince!” A guard approached from Runestone and reported, “Lady Rhea has returned.
She is waiting for you in the hall.” “All right.
I know.” Vaelor came back to himself at once.
He stuffed the Ula grass into his clothes and, protected by the guards around him, retraced his steps toward the tall, imposing castle.
By the time night fully fell, his short legs had carried him home.
Lady Rhea had been waiting in the spacious hall for some time.
“Mother, I missed you!” Vaelor was covered in dust.
He spread his arms and threw himself at the young woman with the strongest presence in the room.
His round little face was full of smiles, the kind that made anger difficult.
Lady Rhea remained expressionless and allowed her son to collide with her straight legs, where he clung like a chain.
“When did you come back?
I was going to greet you.” Vaelor looked up, showing small white teeth in a bright grin.
No one struck a child who smiled like that.
He shook his head happily and stared straight at his mother.
Lady Rhea was in the prime of youth.
She had the black hair and dark eyes of the First Men, and her slender figure, while not lush, carried a sharp, capable grace.
Her face needed no explanation.
Long, vivid eyes.
A high, clean nose.
A beauty with all the force of an old noble portrait.
If she had not been beautiful, Queen Alysanne would never have chosen her as a bride for her grandson.
“Ah.” Lady Rhea looked down at him sternly for a long moment, then rubbed her brow with a helpless sigh.
Look at the boy.
Dust all over him.
Mud on his boots.
Pockets stuffed with weeds even goats would not eat.
Anyone who did not know better would think he had been the one returning from the hunt.
Vaelor thickened his skin and asked sweetly, “Mother, how long will you stay home this time?” Being reborn into a young body had given his temperament a touch of true childishness.
Clear eyes, foolish confidence, and a mind still far too easy to reshape.
That was the benefit of a second childhood.
Lady Rhea could not endure his clinging forever.
She pulled over a chair, sat down, and answered while half distracted.
“Not many days.
There will be another hunt soon.” “Oh.” Vaelor had long since grown used to it.
“What do you think of this little deer?” A portion of the hunt’s spoils had been piled in the hall.
Lady Rhea dragged out the carcass of a young deer about the size of a dog and spoke as she pleased.
“You like venison.
This one can be roasted or made into soup for you.” Before Vaelor could offer praise, she lifted two gray rabbits.
“The Vale is cold in winter.
Snow hare fur is soft.
These will make you a new pair of gloves.” The more Lady Rhea spoke, the more energetic she became, admiring her own trophies.
“And this black bear.
You have no use for it.
I will have it skinned and hung in my room…” Vaelor, left to the side, fell silent.
He was touched.
He also knew better than to move.
He listened as his mother spoke endlessly about the hunt.
Between his poor sleep and all the running around he had done, his small body began to fail him.
His head dipped again and again.
At last, the old septa noticed and used supper as an excuse to interrupt.
The maids had prepared everything already.
Dishes were quickly carried to the table.
Vaelor sat on his stool, short legs swinging back and forth as he craned his neck to inspect his plate.
Slices of white bread, sausage, and mashed potatoes.
A dry, sturdy supper.
Lady Rhea sat with little enthusiasm and began eating from her own plate.
Also at the table was the long-suffering boy assigned to Vaelor, dressed in a suit of bright bronze armor and using his fork with an air of great ceremony.
Vaelor looked him over with a strange expression.
“Why are you dressed like that?” Since the Andals landed on the Fingers, iron had gradually spread across Westeros.
House Royce still honored its old bronze glory, and it was not unusual for its members to wear bronze armor.
Wearing it at the supper table, however, was a bit much.
Willam swallowed his food, set down his knife and fork with careful elegance, and lifted what he clearly believed was a handsome smile.
“Lady Rhea promised that next time, I may go hunting with her.” Vaelor blinked and stabbed his sausage with his small knife.
So go, then.
What are you so proud of?
Willam had been assigned to him a fortnight ago by his mother.
Companion, guard, page; he was all of them at once.
His full name was Willam Royce, a cousin from the direct bloodline.
By kinship, Vaelor ought to lower his head and call him cousin.
In the original path of the world, Willam had also left a brief mark.
He would be the bearer of Lamentation, House Royce’s ancestral sword, and one of the Black Queen’s Queensguard.
During the Storming of the Dragonpit, he would foolishly lead a party inside to attempt a rescue.
Not only would all of them be killed by the mob, but the priceless Valyrian steel sword would be lost as well.
“I’m full.” Vaelor ate with sudden ferocity, then hopped off the stool with a round belly.
His feet still hung a bit above the floor, so he had to bounce once before landing properly.
Lady Rhea’s fine brows drew together as she watched the little boy leave.
She looked as though she wanted to say something important, then swallowed it back.
Vaelor walked away in high spirits, like a child returning with a glorious haul.
Lady Rhea shook her head and instructed the old septa, “Get him a different chair.” Ula!
✦ ✦ ✦ 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.