Get comfortable, turn the page, and let’s see what this story has been hiding 🔥 ✦ The ship sailed across the sea, and time rushed on with the water.
Inside the luxurious cabin, Vaelor lay flat on his back, spread bonelessly across the soft bed.
His eyes were dull, like those of a ruined little child.
He regretted everything.
The sea was nothing like he had imagined.
Waves struck the hull, and the rolling made him dizzy enough to question every life choice.
“So much for the glory of sailing.” Vaelor clutched a small blanket, close to collapse.
“Sea, you win.
I have been conquered.” All the heroic excitement from that morning had disappeared.
If this continued, he would vomit himself senseless.
Knock, knock.
Someone tapped on the cabin door, then pushed it open gently.
Old Septa Martha entered in a black-and-white dress, holding a lantern in one hand and a basket full of needles, thread, and cloth in the other.
“Martha, you finally came.” Vaelor, who had been waiting bitterly, revived on the spot.
Like a baby dragon rolling over, he tumbled off the bed.
Old Martha set down the lantern with indulgent helplessness.
“Do not rush.
Thankfully, I prepared needle and thread before we boarded.” “Hurry.
I want a good night’s sleep.” Barefoot, Vaelor thumped over to the bed and dragged out the basket filled with Ula grass.
For some reason, the Ula grass contained a faint thread of magic.
To make use of it, however, it needed careful work.
Old Martha was skilled with a needle.
She could weave the soft, slender grass into a sleeping mat.
“This grass is too soft and fine.
It cannot be woven alone.” Under the little prince’s burning stare, the old septa shook her head, then patiently began braiding the blades.
She took a piece of blue cloth from her basket as a base and fixed the woven grass to it with needle and thread.
Vaelor crouched beside her knees.
Unlike his usual resistance to the Seven-Pointed Star, he watched seriously and blinked as he learned.
Away from home, every extra skill could be useful.
Unfortunately, after only a short while, his eyelids began fighting each other.
Old Martha’s hands were deft, and her voice was gentle.
“Prince, it is still light outside.
Go play for a while and sleep tonight.” Children were restless by nature.
If he slept now, he would stare at the ceiling all night.
Vaelor knew she was right.
Rubbing his eyes, he agreed.
“All right.
You be careful too.
Do not prick your hand.” He yawned hard and turned toward the door.
The old septa was his caretaker.
She taught him the Faith of the Seven and also looked after his food, clothes, and daily needs.
She was strict when forcing him to recite from the Seven-Pointed Star, but gentle in ordinary life.
She was a very good old woman.
Martha smiled at his reminder and continued weaving carefully by the lantern’s light, her hands never stopping.
There was a great deal of grass in the basket.
The extra could be sewn into a pillow for the prince.
On the deck of the Prince Vaelor, Vaelor stepped back under the blue sky and white clouds, small and conspicuous.
“Prince, over here.” He had just been looking for a place to get some air when Willam waved repeatedly from behind a mast.
Vaelor’s eyes filled with doubt, but his feet kept moving.
Fine.
Let him see what this was about.
Aside from stacked cargo crates, the deck held Vale knights flying the banner of House Royce.
Around the mast, three people sat together.
Vaelor looked suspiciously at them.
“Are the three of you holding a meeting?” Besides young Willam, the other two were Gunthor, Runestone’s master-at-arms, and Ser Ryan Shett, the Gull Knight.
Bottles and food had been set casually on the planks.
From the look of it, the meal was already half eaten.
Gunthor cared only for eating.
His huge hand picked up an unpeeled orange, and he bit straight through the skin, juice splashing across his mouth.
Without lifting his head, he stuffed in several grapes and spat the seeds aside.
Vaelor’s mouth twitched slightly.
He was unhappy with him.
He definitely was.
Fortunately, not everyone present was that rough.
The moment would not have to become awkward.
Ser Ryan stood smoothly, removed his gray-white cloak, folded it into a cushion, and smiled.
“Prince, the deck is damp and cold.
Take care not to chill yourself.” He placed it beneath Vaelor and even made an inviting gesture.
“Thank you.” Vaelor accepted it openly.
See?
Some people understood how things were done.
He glanced at Gunthor, still stuffing his face, and his small brows drew together despite himself.
Were knights not supposed to be gentle, courteous, humble, and restrained?
Had this one entered through a side door?
“Never mind.
I will not lower myself to his level.” Vaelor touched his still pleasantly full belly.
He had no desire to honor them with a shared picnic, so he asked directly, “Did you call me for something?” “We are your guard detail.” Willam’s mouth was fastest, and the words spilled out at once.
The little dragon frowned and counted on his fingers.
He calculated nothing useful.
He had never had a personal guard detail before.
Guards had always been assigned at random from whichever soldiers were available.
“Who is in it?” Uneasy, Vaelor looked around with bright eyes.
If they were protecting him, there should be eight or ten at least.
His mother had brought fifty Vale knights.
Ser Ryan remained elegant at all times and smiled apologetically.
“Only the three of us.” “Hm?” Vaelor froze.
The three?
Do not tell him they meant these three.
When his gaze passed over them, Willam thrust out his chest and slapped his bronze breastplate until it clanged.
“He counts?” Vaelor pointed at the obvious show-off in disbelief, his small finger trembling.
Ser Ryan, the only normal person present, nodded gently.
“Willam is brave.
Gunthor and I will also do everything in our power to protect your safety.” Brave did not mean useful.
With one glance, Vaelor saw the whole problem.
His last fragile hope died at last.
Still, seeing Gunthor continue to devour food, he could barely accept it.
Gunthor stood more than seven feet tall, his body packed with muscle.
The muscles in both arms bulged high beneath his clothes.
Even if he were only for show, he was worth five Willams.
Calculated that way, Willam counted as half a knight, and Gunthor alone counted as two and a half.
Vaelor counted on his fingers and realized he had gained two Willams.
Utter nonsense.
Disappointed, he covered his face and accepted his fate.
Three it was.
At least Gunthor looked fierce.
Better three than the zero he had before.
After a while, Vaelor remembered the proper matter.
“Mother arranged this.
What did she say?” Surely she had not suddenly overflowed with maternal love for no reason.
Ser Ryan answered immediately.
“Once we go ashore, King’s Landing will be complicated.
As a prince, you should have personal guards.” His own swordsmanship was respectable, so he had temporarily taken the post.
Vaelor became serious.
As the capital of the Seven Kingdoms, King’s Landing was a knot of power and secrets, a nest with wind blowing through every crack.
Arranging several close guards was indeed necessary.
Once he understood that, he looked at the other two.
He understood the Gull Knight.
Ser Ryan was capable and thoughtful in his dealings.
But what about them?
Willam flushed and scratched his head hard.
He had not wanted to become a guard either.
Lady Rhea had ordered it.
As for Gunthor, he lifted a bottle of rum and drank in great gulps, then belched violently when it was empty.
Willam helpfully explained, “Runestone has men to guard it, so Gunthor came out to relax.” Vaelor watched and rubbed his chin with one small hand.
As far as he knew, Gunthor’s life in Runestone had not been particularly smooth.
First, the realm was at peace, so his great strength had nowhere to be used.
Second, his personality was stubborn, and he spoke roughly.
Noble circles did not welcome him.
‘Did Mother dislike him too and throw him at me to fill out the display?’ Vaelor’s eyes turned quickly.
He felt as though he had picked up a useful bargain.
Seeing Gunthor’s gloomy appearance, he opened his mouth, ready to coax him with a few words.
“Vaelor, come here.” Before he could speak, his mother’s hard voice sounded behind him.
Vaelor quickly turned back and swallowed the words in his mouth.
✦ ✦ ✦ 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.