Game of Thrones: I Am The Heir For A Day

Chapter 263: The Clever Daeron

Chapter 263: The Clever Daeron

"Viserys, I have reason to suspect that Daemon is up to no good and harbors covetous desires for the Stepstones' army."

Alicent's voice was serious, her eyes hard as she voiced her doubts about Daemon.

There were 3,000 troops stationed on the Stepstones, controlled by Aegon, Daemon, and Cole. Cole had stepped down as Commander of the Kingsguard and remained on the Stepstones to atone for his sins. All three were people Viserys trusted implicitly.

"Alicent, think about what you're saying... How could Daemon covet the army of the Stepstones?" Viserys was physically and mentally exhausted, confused by his wife's skepticism.

Daemon was his brother, the infamous Rogue Prince. His father-in-law was the head of House Velaryon, Corlys Velaryon, the wealthiest and most powerful lord in the Seven Kingdoms.

Both he and his wife were esteemed dragonriders, commanding Caraxes and the largest dragon, Vhagar. If Daemon needed an army, he could simply call for one, and many in the Seven Kingdoms would rally to his side. Why would he covet a garrison of 3,000 men on the Stepstones?

Alicent persisted. "Daemon has always been constrained by Aegon. If he didn't want to control the army, why did he send Aegon back to King's Landing injured?"

The conflict between Aegon and Daemon went back a long way. It was hard to believe that Daemon's sudden move was without ulterior motives.

"Alicent, enough!" Viserys's voice was low and frustrated. "Daemon is my brother. He has the right to discipline his nephew who doesn't follow the rules. Don't suspect our family without sufficient evidence!"

It was an irrefutable fact that Aegon had made a mistake. There was no need for conspiracy theories.

"You will regret this, Viserys!" Alicent flinched at the outburst, her eyes reddening as she cried out and turned away.

No one understood Daemon's nature better than she did. He was an unapologetic rogue, a wolf in sheep's clothing eager to take advantage of any weakness in the royal family.

Viserys watched his wife's retreating back helplessly, reaching out to stop her but then letting his hand fall.

"Forget it, let her calm down first," he muttered to himself. Aegon had been injured, and it was natural for Alicent, as his mother, to be angry. Viserys was trying to convince himself.

...

Without Alicent, the hostess, and Aegon, who was bedridden recuperating from his injuries, the dinner party felt awkwardly cold.

After a quick meal, the children dispersed. Alone with his mulled wine, Viserys forced a smile and wished each of them "good night."

Late at night, Rhaegar lay on his couch, pondering his father's quarrel with Alicent. Since his release from prison, Daemon had kept a low profile in King's Landing. Besides the last family dinner, Rhaegar had seen little of him. Yet it was evident to everyone that Daemon was not a man of honor. After losing his bid for the Iron Throne, he was bound to set his sights on something else.

Knock, knock...

A knock sounded on the door.

"Come in," Rhaegar called out casually.

Creak—

The wooden door opened, and Rhaenyra, wearing a loose nightgown, quietly walked in. Rhaegar's lips curled up involuntarily as he stretched his neck to take a look. Rhaenyra had been unusually clingy lately.

"Rhaegar, I just went to see Alicent. She's in her room, in tears," Rhaenyra whispered as she walked over to the bed and sat down.

"You're concerned about her?" Rhaegar reached out, grasping her small, soft hand.

Rhaenyra folded her legs together, her long hair cascading over her pink neck. She whispered, "Alicent is actually pretty pitiable too. No one truly cares about her."

She had grown up with only three friends, with Alicent being the closest. Despite their estrangement, a bond remained. After all these years, it was time to let go of old grudges.

Rhaenyra was doing well, loved by others, and free from trivial worries. Alicent, on the other hand, bore a heavy burden and had never truly lived for herself. Rhaenyra felt a pang of sympathy.

"When you pity her, remember she's married to your father, and you have to call her stepmother," Rhaegar said flatly, dismissing the notion of sentimental ties. He wasn't like Rhaenyra, who had grown up surrounded by emotions and had developed a sentimental nature.

He had no mother, rarely saw his father, and nightmares were his constant companion. Rhaenyra's "love" was what had drawn them close. He cared for nothing else, and the concept of "friendship" seemed irrelevant. In the Seven Kingdoms, no one his age was worthy of being his friend.

"Rhaegar, you always manage to bring me back to reality," Rhaenyra said, rolling her eyes as she fell into his arms, bumping her head against his chest.

Talking to him like this didn't offer any emotional solace. Rhaegar cupped her troubled head, saying dejectedly, "Alicent is not as simple as you think."

A woman who had taken care of her great-grandfather Jaehaerys I in his old age, climbed into her father Viserys' bed, and bore four heirs—she was far from simple-minded.

Rhaenyra, frustrated, rolled over and pinned him beneath her, her hands supporting her on the soft goose-feather mattress as she looked down at him.

Rhaegar lay there, waiting for his punishment.

"Rhaegar, you're not listening," Rhaenyra said, pulling back her silver hair and running her small hand down the collar of his shirt.

Knock, knock...

A knock on the door abruptly interrupted the intimate atmosphere. Rhaenyra's face fell as she quickly moved away, retreating from the "battlefield."

"Who is it at this late hour?" Rhaegar called out in annoyance, his head hanging in frustration.

"Brother, it's me."

Helaena's delicate voice floated through the door.

Rhaenyra gave Rhaegar a playful kick, muttering, "You're right, Alicent is really annoying."

Especially her daughter, who had a knack for interrupting at the worst moments.

Sighing inwardly, Rhaegar got out of bed and opened the door.

Creak...

The door swung open, revealing Helaena in a light green robe, her face bright and expectant.

"Helaena," Rhaegar greeted, his gaze drifting to the small figure beside her.

"Brother," came the delicate voice of Daeron, who held Helaena's hand and flashed a smile.

Daeron was very handsome, no less than Rhaegar had been as a child. Dressed in a white shirt with a green coat, his short silver-blonde hair and big purple eyes darted around.

Rhaegar nodded in response, blocking the doorway as he asked, "Why are you up so late?"

"We..."

Helaena hesitated, her response slow.

Daeron answered first, "Mother is angry and doesn't care about us, so we came to play with you and sister."

"Is that so?" Rhaegar questioned, scanning his siblings.

Helaena nodded vigorously, her face tight with worry.

Daeron nodded as well, producing a book from behind him.

Rhaegar rubbed Helaena's hair, asking, "Where's Aemond? Isn't he usually the clingiest to you?"

"He's gone to find Aegon and isn't with us," Helaena said crisply, half-squinting in comfort.

"Come in. Rhaenyra's here too," Rhaegar said, stepping aside to let the two youngsters enter.

Rhaenyra knelt on the couch, eyeing her younger siblings critically.

They didn’t sleep in the middle of the night but came to Rhaegar's room; there was something odd about that!

Feeling their elder sister's scrutinizing gaze, Helaena and Daeron hurriedly saluted, looking like a pair of guilty children.

Rhaenyra waved her hand dismissively, slightly embarrassed by her intensity.

"As if I’m that scary," she murmured to herself.

Rhaegar sat on the bed and stared at Helaena and Daeron with a serious expression. "Alright, what's really going on at this late hour?"

Helaena and Daeron exchanged wide-eyed glances.

Helaena nudged Daeron. "You tell him."

Daeron hesitated.

Rhaegar noticed and focused his attention on Daeron, suspecting the younger sibling had instigated this visit.

"Ahem, I found a book on the occult," Daeron finally admitted, holding up the book in his hands. "It talks about the connection between dragons and magic. I thought it was fascinating."

He handed the book over, his eyes full of anticipation.

Rhaegar shook his head with a chuckle, reaching out to take the book and flipping through it. He recognized it immediately—a collection of speculative tales about dragons and magic.

"According to the traditions of the Dothraki people of the Great Grass Sea of Essos, there were originally two moons in the sky, and one of them got too close to the sun and suffered a heat explosion, giving birth to countless dragons... Magic is like a tidal wave, sometimes surging, sometimes falling silent... Magic disappears from public view, but the Citadel and the Alchemy Guild have magical glass candles that allow them to observe the existence of magic..."

Rhaegar smiled nostalgically. He had read this same book when he was young and had been equally captivated by its imaginative tales.

"How is it? Isn't it wonderful?" Daeron stood on his tiptoes, pointing to a passage in the book. "Glass candles, to observe real magic."

Daeron was fascinated by dragons and magic, especially given his own young cobalt blue dragon, Tessarion.

Rhaegar handed the book back and asked, "How do you think dragons came to be, and what is magic?"

"I don't know," Daeron admitted, shaking his head.

"Don't dwell on this book. It will pique your interest but won't provide real answers," Rhaegar advised, nodding at the book in Daeron's hands. He then reached into his space bracelet and produced two ancient books.

"Wow, this is magic!" Daeron's eyes widened in awe as he watched the silver-gray patterned space bracelet reveal the ancient tomes.

Rhaegar smiled and handed the books to Daeron. "These are ancient books from another powerful Dragonlord family. They’re more suited for your studies."

These were books from the long-lost "Belaerys" family, which Rhaegar had found in his space bracelet when he was six. They chronicled a different history of dragonlords and were among his most treasured possessions.

Daeron held the books as if they were the most precious things in the world. "Brother, do you really know magic?"

"Not know it, but I can tap into it," Rhaegar corrected, speaking seriously. "Every Targaryen has magic in their blood. The difference is that I’ve figured out some of its mysteries."