As the fight was about to break out, the sound of a galloping horse caught the attention of both Daemon and Maekar. They both looked toward the entrance of the Dragonpit and saw a knight in gleaming white armor. The white cloak over his shoulders and the imposing helm drew the attention of both princes.
The knight’s green eyes were sharp, piercing, and undeniably powerful. Removing his helm, the knight revealed an aged, hard, and perfectly shaven face. This was none other than the greatest swordsman of his time, the legendary and brutal Ser Ryam Redwyne, Lord Commander of the Kingsguard and, for a short period, Hand of the King.
The man ignored both dragons and dismounted from his horse; he placed his hand on the hilt of his sword and stepped between the two princes.
"Ser Ryam, it has been some time. The last time was when I was five; you came to deliver my father’s letter to Raventree. I hope you are protecting the king with loyalty and honor." Maekar looked at the old knight and spoke with a smile, losing all the indifference and coldness he had shown when talking to Daemon.
"I shall continue to protect the king until the last breath leaves my lungs, my prince." Ryam looked at the young prince before him with an expression of approval. As an experienced warrior, he could see that the teenager had the posture of a formidable swordsman; there were no openings or even relaxed muscles.
Knowing Maekar was only thirteen, this showed how extraordinary the young prince was. Ryam seemed to see that the title of the most powerful swordsman in the realm would belong to the young prince before him in the future.
If Ryam knew that Maekar could be equally deadly with every weapon in the world and was only not a perfect killing machine because he was so young, he might not have been so calm, but rather terrified. Genius is one thing; monstrosity was something else entirely.
Ryam looked at Daemon, who had his sword drawn and pointed at Maekar, and spoke with a calm and serene expression. "The king has ordered that the dragonrider be invited to the Great Hall."
As arrogant, pretentious, and cruel as he was, in the face of the orders of the Old King, who had built six decades of peace and prosperity for Westeros, he did not dare say a word. Glaring coldly at Maekar, the Rogue Prince mounted Caraxes and disappeared from Maekar’s sight.
"I love seeing that furious expression of his; nothing gives me more joy," Maekar commented with a sarcastic laugh, which made Ryam smile as well.
"It is not wise to be an enemy of someone like Prince Daemon. Men like him are dangerous." Ryam couldn’t help but advise the young prince in a gentle and calm tone. He seemed like a kind and warm old man; no one would imagine that a man like this could kill ten men in a few minutes.
"Dangerous?" Maekar seemed to hear something funny. "That is exactly why he is predictable. He thinks he is powerful because he is impulsive and possesses Caraxes, but he is nothing more than an arrogant idiot."
Ryam only smiled and did not respond. He looked at the massive dragon behind Maekar. "It is a beautiful dragon, my prince."
"Well, he was the one who came to me; otherwise, I might never have had a dragon in my entire life." Maekar’s voice was a mixture of love for Bahamut and sarcasm for a certain paranoid and traumatized king.
Again, Ryam only smiled and did not respond, not when it involved the king’s private matters. As a Kingsguard, his duty was to protect and nothing more; giving advice was definitely not one of his talents.
After all, he was considered the worst Hand of the King to ever hold the office.
"The king awaits you in the Great Hall, my prince." Seeing that Maekar seemed in no hurry to meet the king, Ryam spoke again.
"Sorry, sometimes I get lost in my thoughts." Maekar smiled and spoke in a calm tone. He looked at Bahamut, and the dragon, as if extending his thoughts, lay down on the ground and closed his eyes.
Looking back at Ryam, Maekar spoke with a harmless smile on his lips. "Let us go; my dear grandfather must be anxious to meet me for the first time."
Hearing this, Ryam twitched his lips and seriously doubted the king was anxious to meet Maekar. After all, Maekar had not been summoned to King’s Landing for thirteen years, and if it weren’t for Prince Baelon, the young prince might not have set foot in King’s Landing until the Old King’s death.
The Great Hall contains the king’s throne room. The Iron Throne sits upon a raised iron dais with high, narrow steps. A long carpet stretches from the throne to the great oak and bronze doors of the hall. The cavernous Great Hall can accommodate a thousand people for a feast. The hall is oriented north to south, with high, narrow windows on the east and west walls. Skulls of Targaryen dragons once adorned the walls.
Above the steps, the Iron Throne rose like a monster of blackened and uncomfortable steel. Aegon I Targaryen made the throne from the swords of defeated enemies and forged it so that whoever sat on it would feel uncomfortable. As if he wanted to remind his successors that being king was not easy.
Maekar raised his head and looked at the old man sitting on the Iron Throne. Jaehaerys was almost skeletal, his hair and beard were white and had grown to his waist, but he still sat upright with a wise and dignified appearance.
It was said that his smile could warm the heart of any maiden and that his frown could make a man’s blood run cold.
However, Maekar felt nothing but indifference in his gaze. Nevertheless, the prince took a step forward and then another; his head was held high. He showed no fear or any other emotion and reached the bottom of the steps with an upright posture worthy of a prince.
"My king, seeing you in good health fills me with joy," Maekar said with a gentle smile while looking directly into the king’s violet eyes—eyes that were similar to his own.
Jaehaerys did not respond, only looked at the teenager below the steps with a calm and deep gaze. In those violet eyes of the teenager, the same eyes he had, the king seemed to see a trace of explicit sarcasm, as if he were mocking him.
’Look at me, I am a dragonrider, even after you did everything to prevent it.’
Jaehaerys narrowed his eyes and etched the figure of the tall teenager into his mind. Beyond a powerful gaze, the teenager looked like a little king; just by standing still, he could capture everyone’s attention. As if he were the most important person in the room.
Honestly, the teenager looked more like a prince than all his sons and daughters combined. This irritated him in a way he didn’t want it to.
"I see you have obtained a dragon, Prince Maekar." The first sentence Maekar heard from Jaehaerys in his entire life was a question, delivered in a cold and questioning tone.
"He came to me; it seems I was born to be a Dragonrider." Maekar emphasized the word "born" and spoke in an innocent and gentle tone.
"Indeed, born to be a Dragonrider." Despite his feelings, Jaehaerys did not let his thoughts show on his face and spoke calmly. "Does the dragon have a name?"
"Bahamut, a dragon of platinum and gold scales," Maekar replied in a gentle and courteous tone, always keeping his eyes on the Old King’s aged and expressionless face. He had to admire that Jaehaerys had perfected the art of controlling his expressions to the pinnacle. He could see no apparent emotion in the Old King’s expression.
"Bahamut..." Jaehaerys murmured the name. He looked at Maekar again and spoke in a calm tone. "From this moment on, you shall reside in the Red Keep; Raventree Hall cannot accommodate such a large dragon."
Maekar scoffed internally. Raventree didn’t have the conditions to accommodate a dragon? Dragons could dig a hole in the ground and create a nest; there was no problem in choosing the environment. Jaehaerys just didn’t want him to grow too strong and win over all the Noble Houses in the Riverlands, becoming too powerful.
The prince had to admit: Jaehaerys was a political genius. Unfortunately, the Old King could never imagine that a teenager had already won over half of the noble houses in the Riverlands. If he knew, with Jaehaerys’s caution and paranoia, Maekar probably wouldn’t even be allowed to leave his room.
However, Maekar did not refuse and accepted with a smile; it was exactly what he wanted. "I am tired from the journey; I hope to have a good night’s sleep, Your Majesty."
"You may withdraw, Prince Maekar." Jaehaerys nodded and closed his eyes, with no desire to look at Maekar again.
After Maekar left the Great Hall, Ryam, the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, looked at the king and knew he was worried about something.
"Has something happened, my king?" Ryam, who would be considered the worst Hand of the King, asked directly.
"The ambition in his eyes reminds me of someone." Jaehaerys opened his eyes and said slowly, in a cold and indifferent tone. The image of a large man with a cruel and arrogant smile appeared in the Old King’s mind.
Ryam was confused, but seeing the king’s expression, he remained silent.
’Maegor...’ Jaehaerys thought with an eternally indifferent gaze.
Note: Maekar needs a title; does anyone have suggestions?
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/GOTSW
Read my other books:
House of The Dragon: The Pale Prince
Jujutsu Kaisen: The True King
Game Of Thrones: The God-Emperor of Planetos (500,000 words written).
Percy Jackson: Godwyn the Golden.
Game Of Thrones: The King’s Court Wizard