The whole situation had descended into chaos.
Clutching his chest, Viserys roared, “Seal the city gates!”
“Bring them all back!”
“Especially Criston Cole!”
Defile his daughter?!
Break his vows as a knight of the Kingsguard?!
And then expect to escape unscathed?!
If Cole were allowed to remain at large, what was to stop him from spreading whatever slander he pleased about Rhaenyra?!
Humiliation and fury churned in the hearts of the Kingsguard.
One of their own had actually betrayed the king and fled?!
The Cargyll twins immediately volunteered to hunt down and capture Criston Cole.
Their sworn brother.
Their disgrace.
Cole had stained the proud and honorable white cloak of the Kingsguard.
“No need. Leave Cole alone for now.”
Baelon remained calm.
“The dragon egg is our first priority.”
Had the timing not been so terrible, Baelon might have applauded the sheer spectacle of it all.
First, Rhaenyra’s secret affair had been exposed.
Then Lyonel had told him of Viserys’s ambitions.
Finally, Daemon had taken a dragon egg and Cole had fled.
Everything had happened at once.
Baelon urged Rhaenyra to mount her dragon and leave at once.
“No wall, however high, can contain a dragon.”
Rhaenyra closed her eyes.
When she opened them again, they were filled with resolve.
“All right!”
She knew she had to understand what truly mattered.
Compared with a dragon egg, what importance did Cole have?
Once Daemon reached another continent, the Free Cities would have countless ways to take one small dragon egg from his hands.
And what if that egg hatched?!
Dragons were what placed the Targaryens above everyone else.
They could never allow the Free Cities even the slightest chance of obtaining one.
Viserys’s voice was hoarse.
“No.”
“That fallen knight broke his vows!”
“He could turn this into a scandal. People will whisper about Rhaenyra…”
“Even if he flees across the Narrow Sea, I will have him killed!”
Rhaenyra raised her chin and cut him off.
“Let them whisper all they like!”
Her eyes were bright, her voice unwavering.
“I don’t care!”
“I don’t believe I did anything wrong.”
She spoke each word clearly.
“I hate the customs of Westeros!”
“A man’s affairs are something to boast about, but the moment a woman follows her own desires and chooses love, everyone condemns her for it.”
Rhaenyra turned decisively.
“I’ll bring the dragon egg back!”
She strode away with her back straight.
“Um…”
Baelon finally spoke.
He sounded genuinely puzzled.
“And not one of you thought to have someone watch him?”
“Except me, of course,” he added.
Viserys jerked his head up toward Baelon.
Rhaenyra turned as well.
Baelon shrugged at their expressions.
“Apparently not.”
Viserys’s face lit up.
“Good, good!”
“You sent someone after him?”
“Where is he now?!”
“Father, I had a lame little bird settle on Ser Cole’s head,” Baelon said calmly.
“My guards will bring Ser Cole back.”
He smiled at Rhaenyra.
“We’ll be seeing Ser Cole again very soon.”
Baelon watched her leave, then said quietly, “Father, there’s no need to send the Gold Cloaks or the Kingsguard.”
“We’ll see Ser Cole again soon enough.”
Viserys let out a long breath of relief.
Rhaenyra nodded to Baelon.
After finding out which direction Daemon had gone, she hurried toward the stables.
The stablemaster brought out a fine horse, but just as Rhaenyra was about to leave, she heard a familiar voice.
“Rhaenyra!”
She turned.
It was Baelon.
Her brother had followed her.
She gave him a reassuring smile.
“Don’t worry. Uncle won’t hurt me.”
“Go back and stay with Father.”
She bent down and stroked Baelon’s silver hair.
“When I return, I promise I’ll bring the dragon egg back!”
Baelon lowered his eyes.
He had never been able to make sense of Daemon.
Daemon openly looked down on his elder brother, Viserys, yet would not tolerate anyone else insulting him.
If Daemon loved his brother, then he had spent a third of the past six years doing his utmost to infuriate Viserys and thoroughly enjoying himself in the process.
Baelon sighed.
“Rhaenyra, Daemon has already had quite a head start. You might not catch him.”
A thirteen-year-old girl, flying alone across the Narrow Sea to another continent.
In his previous life, children her age would still have been in elementary school.
Baelon warned her, “Don’t land in the Free Cities. If you can’t catch him, come back.”
“To Father, you’re worth more than any number of dragon eggs.”
The tension in Rhaenyra’s expression eased, and she smiled.
“I know.”
“Do you feel the same?” she asked, smiling down at Baelon.
Baelon nodded without hesitation.
“Syrax is far more precious than a dragon egg.”
Rhaenyra pulled on the reins.
“If you catch Cole, don’t let Father agree to his Trial by Combat.”
“Father isn’t Jaehaerys.”
She raised her riding crop, and the chestnut horse surged into a gallop.
He shouted after her, “Rhaenyra, if you find Daemon, ask him something for me!”
“Ask whether he has the courage to serve as Father’s champion and fight Ser Cole, the man who defeated him once before!”
Rhaenyra’s laughter drifted back to him.
“I will!”
…
Ser Cole knew perfectly well what awaited him.
The best outcome was taking the black.
Even the Night’s Watch might mock him.
Everyone would condemn him as a knight without honor.
The worst outcome was death, with his head mounted on the city walls.
Ser Cole had no intention of sitting quietly and waiting for his fate.
He had powerful arms and strong legs.
He could decide his own destiny.
All he had to do was reach the Free Cities, beyond the reach of Westerosi law, where no one would point at him and whisper.
He could dress himself in gold and silver, drink fine wine to his heart’s content, and enjoy courtesans.
With his skill at arms, he might even join a Sellsword Company and make something of himself.
Once an oath had already been broken, breaking it again proved far easier than Cole had imagined.
He removed his conspicuous white armor and quickly gathered everything of value from his room.
The gold bracelet Rhaenyra had given him, he crushed beneath his boot before tossing it into his bundle.
The dagger given to him by the king, along with the enamel and gemstones from his armor, he pried loose and packed away.
Finally, Cole took Rhaenyra’s token with him.
For the past six years, he had always worn her token and fought in her name.
He left the Red Keep without trouble.
No one stopped him.
Cole made his way through the streets, anxious yet excited.
The city gate closest to the Red Keep was the Mud Gate.
Once he passed through it and boarded a merchant vessel in the harbor, he could sail for the Free Cities.
Pentos, Tyrosh, Lys.
Any of them would do!
He would buy himself a great house and many slaves, and live a wealthy, unfettered life.
The closer Cole came to the gate, the stronger his excitement and unease became.
He could not stop glancing from side to side, watching everything around him.
Old men leaned against walls chatting.
Barefoot children ran through the streets.
Everything seemed perfectly ordinary.
With every step, Cole’s heart beat harder.
At any moment, he expected to hear knights thundering up behind him, ready to seize him and shatter the bright future he had imagined.
But the Seven were watching over him.
His journey remained completely uneventful until he reached the River Gate.
The broad city gate stood almost within reach!
Cole stopped at a cautious distance and watched for a while.
The Gold Cloaks were inspecting wagons and questioning people entering and leaving the city, just as they normally did.
Nothing seemed amiss.
He began walking toward the gate, one measured step at a time.
Suddenly, a column of knights in gleaming armor poured out of a nearby alley and completely blocked his path.
“Even a fool could have guessed that this was the one gate you shouldn’t use.”
“I never imagined Ser Cole would truly be this stupid.”
Tap.
Tap.
A wooden staff struck rhythmically against the stone paving as someone approached.
The newcomer sighed.
“What a waste of the little birds’ and little mice’s time.”