After the midday feast began.
Talvey and Gael sat at the other end of the long table, quietly enjoying the food.
After a whole morning of hunting, even Gael had a huge appetite.
“Hahaha, although I’ve long known that Ser Talvey possesses terrifying martial prowess, today still opened my eyes.”
A hearty laugh rang out as three figures waded through the crowd and walked up before Talvey.
The chests of all three were embroidered with the exact same pattern—a shield-shaped white background with three vertical stripes of light blue, red, and green, which was precisely the heraldry of House Strong, Lords of Harrenhal.
The man who spoke was around forty years old, with a full beard and a warm smile on his face.
His tall frame had already grown stout, yet the robust outline of his youth remained faintly visible; he was none other than Lyonel Strong, the current Master of Laws of the Small Council.
He was followed by his two sons: the eldest, the “Breakbones” Harwin, and the second son, the “Clubfoot” Larys.
The second son, Larys, had a thin, pale face and a frail figure.
Because of a congenital deformity in one foot, he was leaning on a cane at the moment.
Talvey thought to himself with internal mockery: “This must be that Larys who is fond of dragon feet, an extraordinarily sinister and vicious conspirator.”
Looking again at Harwin, he was completely different from his brother—though he likewise bore brown hair and brown eyes, he grew up handsome and heroic, with an extremely tall and burly physique that was even a bit taller than the 1.9-meter-tall Talvey.
“Princess Gael! My Lord Talvey!” The three bowed in salute to the two of them.
Talvey looked at Lyonel and said with a smile: “When did Lord Lyonel learn to flatter others? Your eldest son, Ser Harwin, is called the ‘Breakbones’ and the strongest knight in the Seven Kingdoms after all.”
“Strength does not mean might, otherwise he would not have become Lord Talvey’s defeated foe at the tourney three years ago,” Lyonel patted his eldest son Harwin’s shoulder and said modestly.
At this moment, Harwin bowed to Talvey and said gratefully: “Speaking of which, I must thank Lord Talvey for your mercy and generosity three years ago.”
“These are all trivial matters not worth mentioning, and at the time I treated everyone equally, so Ser Harwin need not take it to heart.”
Talvey waved his hand at Harwin, signaling him not to dwell on the matter.
This stemmed from the tourney in King’s Landing three years ago.
After defeating every opponent, Talvey generously waived the spoils of war that the opponents had to offer—because in the joust, the victor had the right to acquire the opponent’s weapons, equipment, and warhorse. This chapter was taken from novelping . com without permission.
At that time, almost all of Talvey’s opponents were defeated in a single strike by Talvey, having no chance at all to use a second lance.
Thus Talvey crushed his way through to win the joust championship, and coupled with his handsome appearance, he was respectfully honored by the people as—the Silver Dragon Knight.
Ever since then, whenever people discussed whether a knight was powerful, they used the number of lances Talvey broke as the standard.
In that joust, only two people were able to make Talvey break two lances: one was the present Ser Harwin, and the other was Rhaenyra’s Kingsguard at the time—Ser Criston Cole.
Lyonel looked at the dazzling Talvey before him, then looked at his eldest son Harwin, feeling a pang of pity for Harwin in his heart.
He was naturally extremely proud of his eldest son’s valor, but he also had to admit that living in the same era as Talvey—a great knight who would sooner or later become a legend of the Seven Kingdoms and remain undefeated—was both an honor and a tragedy for other knights.
The honorable part was naturally being able to live in the same era as a legendary knight, having the opportunity to cross swords with him and witness his glory, which was the lifelong extravagant desire of all knights.
The tragedy was that anyone standing beside Talvey would be eclipsed.
No matter how valiant one might be, the world would forever remember only the Silver Dragon Knight, while everyone else would live out their lives under his illustrious name, serving merely as foils to set off Talvey in the history books.
Lyonel patted his eldest son’s broad shoulders, his throat moved, but in the end he said nothing.
After some conversation, Lyonel brought his two sons back to the small circle where Viserys was.
Afterwards, people successively stepped forward to converse with Talvey.
He consistently maintained good gentlemanly demeanor, dealing with nobles big and small.
As the banquet progressed to the hour when the sun slanted westward, Viserys distributed the game to the various nobles, also declaring the official end of this royal hunting celebration.
Everyone began to pack up their things to return to King’s Landing.
The nobles naturally left a step ahead, leaving only squires and servants to slowly pack up.
On the second day after returning to the Red Keep, Talvey, hand in hand with Gael, bade farewell to Viserys, mounted their respective dragons, and flew towards The Arbor.
On the ground, Viserys gazed at the distant shadows of the dragons, not shifting his gaze for a long time, while Rhaenyra’s fingertips unconsciously twisted her cuffs…
The Arbor, following south along the magnificent large vineyards on the north side, one could see a huge castle on a green plain—the White City. You are reading on g.com, the official source.
This was the ancestral castle built by House Valthorn after the War of Conquest, where various dragon patterns and sculptures could be seen everywhere.
In front of the largest and tallest tower within the castle—Iser Tower, there was an extremely vast fountain pool.
Atop the tall white pedestal in the center was a lifelike, wing-spreading, head-raised golden dragon.
Spring water gushed endlessly from the dragon’s mouth, and under the shining sunlight and the setting off of the golden dragon, it seemed as if it were spewing golden dragon flame.
On the outermost city walls, the banners of House Valthorn fluttered in the wind, and beneath the banners stood squads of well-equipped garrison soldiers.
“Captain, I heard that Lord Talvey displayed divine might on the battlefield, defeating the pirates of the Triarchy, and even personally chopped off the head of The Crabfeeder.”
A young soldier said in a low voice to the captain standing beside him: “I heard the Duke was extremely happy, and rewarded Lord Talvey’s instructor, Ser Henry, with quite a few golden dragons.”
With a smile, the captain patted the young soldier’s shoulder and said: “That’s because you don’t understand Lord Talvey’s strength.”
“I’ve been fortunate enough to see it a few times in the tourney grounds; even facing more than a dozen sers at once, Lord Talvey could easily win.”
“I knew this war was bound to be won before the Lord even set out.”
Another soldier leaned closer and said in a low voice: “Captain, take us along to experience it sometime when you get the chance.”
“Hush!”
The garrison captain suddenly looked at the sky with a serious face; above the clouds, two dragon shadows loomed faintly.
“It’s a dragon! All hands on alert!”
“Clang, clang, clang!”
Guards at other locations on the city walls also spotted the dragons in the sky and immediately rang the alarm bells.
The soldiers guarding beside the scorpion crossbows immediately set up their crossbow mechanisms, aiming them at the sky.
As the dragon shadows slowly drew near, the captain recognized that one of the giant dragons was precisely Talvey’s Terentius, and immediately breathed a sigh of relief.
“Stand down from alert! Notify my Lord Duke, Lord Talvey has returned.”
The vast plains of The Arbor.