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Chapter 495: Digging a Pit for Daemon
Chapter 495: Digging a Pit for Daemon
Chapter 495: Digging a Pit for Daemon
Rhaenys remained calm, glanced at the amused Daemon, and greeted her nephew. "Corlys is still outside. You men can talk among yourselves."
"Then I won't disturb you," Rhaegar replied sensibly, noting that he hadn't eaten yet.
...
"Brother, what brings you here?"
Little Daeron exclaimed in surprise, trotting over like a greedy cat that just smelled fish. Baela and Rhaena followed close behind, their faces lighting up when they saw Rhaegar sitting at the table. They hurried over to chat, their voices sweet as honey.
Surrounded by the children, Rhaegar sniffed his dragon stench and said helplessly, "You really need to stay away from me. Don't become a stinking nest."
"It's okay, I'm not afraid," little Daeron giggled, sitting down on a nearby seat and scratching his head. He nudged Baela, who was about to sit down, with his butt.
Baela glared at him and raised her hand as if to slap him.
"Shhh!" Rhaena quickly intervened, pulling Baela back and giving up her seat to protect her brother.
Rhaegar watched with interest, admiring Baela's courage. Turning his head, he saw Daemon talking to a waiter and interrupted him. "Have you considered teaching Baela the martial arts?"
Daemon looked back in confusion, waved the waiter away, and asked, "Like that stupid girl Helaena?"
"She's not stupid!" Rhaegar insisted, rubbing Baela's head. "She's your heir and a dragon rider. Learning some martial arts will help her protect herself."
Daemon snorted. “As you wish. After all, both my daughters are adopted by you and Rhaenyra.”
Rhaegar frowned slightly, observing Baela and Rhaena’s reactions. Rhaena smiled, watching her father and cousin talk, while Baela looked resentful, snorting and turning her head to ignore her father.
Rhaegar nodded thoughtfully. “Fine, I’ll oversee their education.”
He sensed that his uncle didn’t seem to care much about the future of the two girls. It wasn’t that he didn’t love them, but he didn’t invest in their potential.
“I’ll have Rhaenyra teach her a lesson later. We can’t waste two good seeds,” Rhaegar thought, teasing the children while secretly calculating his next steps.
...
The food was served and the candlelight flickered.
Rhaenys and Laena sat next to each other, eagerly inquiring about the herding of the dragons.
The dragonkeepers at the Dragonpit could command the dragons to enter and exit the pit, feed, and comfort them. However, whipping a dragon and driving several adult dragons to fly was unheard of.
“Rhaegar, is this the dragon-taming tool?” Rhaenys asked, her elbows on the table as she examined the dragon whip in front of her nephew.
The whip was black, covered in barbs, with a handle made of Valyrian steel. It was anything but ordinary.
Rhaegar didn’t hide his talent. “The ancient Dragonlords of Valyria had many dragon-taming treasures, and this is just one of them.”
Daemon's eyes flashed with interest. “I saw in the library in Pentos that some Dragonlord families had a horn that controlled dragons.”
“That’s just a legend,” Laena interjected with a hint of helplessness. “The Valyria Freehold was destroyed overnight, and the biographies that remain are hard to distinguish between fact and fiction.”
Daemon often visited the library during their years in the Free Cities, reading the stories left behind by the Dragonlords.
Ignoring Laena's skepticism, Daemon looked at Rhaegar with burning curiosity. When it came to knowledge of the Dragonlords, his nephew surpassed him. He wanted to know more.
Feeling the others’ stares, Rhaegar thought about the purpose of his visit and said decisively, “Yes! It may be more in the Smoking Sea, but it’s not easy for ordinary people to find.”
“The Smoking Sea is very dangerous,” Rhaenys commented.
Daemon smiled, his eyes shining. “Can you find it? If you enter the Smoking Sea.”
Rhaegar recalled his premonition dream and, after a moment, nodded. “Yes.”
He had the means: the Dragon Compass to search for young dragons, the glass candle with the [Reflections of the Moon] to see thousands of miles, and a rough map of The Lands of the Long Summer. Combining these three elements would minimize the dangers of the Smoking Sea.
He was about to speak when the door opened with a bang.
Sea Snake, dressed in a dusty suit, looked around and greeted them, “Sorry, I was a little late back from Hull.”
“Lord Corlys, I was looking for you,” Rhaegar stood up to show his respect, his eyes firm. “The Smoking Sea has revealed traces of a wild young dragon. I plan to retrieve it and need the escort of House Velaryon’s fleet.”
The Sea Snake was stunned, thinking he had misheard. “You want to take the fleet of House Velaryon into the Smoking Sea?”
The Smoking Sea was a high-risk area, avoided in his nine voyages.
As the saying goes in Hull: “A smart sailor will flee before the Storm.”
Rhaegar acknowledged the danger, but insisted, "The young dragon cannot be abandoned, and the Smoking Sea contains a special herb that can alleviate my father's symptoms."
“With all due respect, this is an unrealistic decision,” the Sea Snake sighed, his voice tinged with helplessness. “The Smoking Sea is treacherous, but if it’s for the king, House Velaryon will not shy away.”
House Velaryon had recently strengthened ties with the royal family through marriage.
“However, our fleet is not enough to explore the Smoking Sea,” the Sea Snake admitted, shaking his head. “After the war with the Triarchy and Dorne, only one in ten of our ships remain. The few we have are tasked with monitoring the Greenblood River and cooperating with the Stepstones to secure the Narrow Sea. We can’t spare any ships for the Smoking Sea, which is fraught with danger.”
Rhaegar rubbed his chin, pondering whether the Sea Snake’s words were entirely truthful.
The Sea Snake took his seat, his expression resolute, and gestured for Rhaegar to join him at the table. It was clear he wasn’t lying—everyone desired a young dragon, but few could capture one. The risk outweighed the reward.
Rhaegar sat down and exchanged a glance with Daemon, who was also deep in thought, contemplating the untapped treasures in the Smoking Sea.
“Rhaegar, I have a suggestion,” Rhaenys suddenly spoke up, her expression a bit complicated.
Rhaegar was stunned and humbly replied, “Aunt, please go ahead.”
Rhaenys, encouraged by her nephew’s sincerity, straightened her back and temporarily smoothed the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes. “Rather than focusing on a young dragon, you should quickly secure your father’s throne and resolve the post-war hidden dangers.”
Rhaegar hesitated, wanting to mention that one reason for exploring the Smoking Sea was to help his father. But he chose to listen to her advice instead.
Seeing he didn’t interrupt, Rhaenys felt relieved. “Your father relies too much on the Small Council, and many important matters are handled carelessly. You must be prepared to take over a mess.”
Rhaegar nodded, having already noticed the Small Council’s flaws and planning to address them once he became king.
Rhaenys continued, glancing at Daemon to be tactful, “What about your affair with Lady Jeyne? The entire Vale knows she’s pregnant.”
Rhaegar’s lips were dry as he replied, “I have re-drafted the Law of Exceptions with the Faith of the Seven.”
“Hmm?” Rhaenys raised an eyebrow, intrigued.
Daemon watched the exchange, raising his eyebrows and giving a mocking laugh. Laena gave him a disapproving glance, prompting him to look away and drink his wine moodily.
Rhaegar's mind raced with the barrage of questions. A flash of inspiration struck him as he locked eyes with Daemon. He saw greed in his uncle's eyes-Daemon wanted the young dragon and the treasure of the Smoking Sea.
Rhaegar formulated a plan to extricate himself from the situation.
The House Velaryon fleet will send a detachment to patrol the Smoking Sea. If Daemon wants to enter the Smoking Sea, let him do so on a dragon. Tyrosh is full of mercenaries who will do anything for money.
Rhaegar was bold and decisive. “Then seal off the Smoking Sea so that no one can enter or leave,” he declared.
Daemon immediately took the bait. “What if someone sneaks into the Smoking Sea and steals the baby dragon?”
"I'll set up patrols," Rhaegar replied, raising an eyebrow suggestively.
Daemon was silent, not taking the task lightly.
The Sea Snake was generous and readily agreed. “I will send someone to block the Smoking Sea and ensure immediate reports if anyone enters.”
“Let’s proceed this way,” Rhaegar decided with a clap of his hands.
Reflecting on the affairs in King’s Landing, he couldn’t help but feel a bit of a headache. “I’ll have to fly back to King’s Landing.”
Daemon sipped his wine, watching it drip down the side of the glass before finishing it in one gulp.
...
Under a star-studded night sky at King's Landing, within the Red Keep...
Creak.
The doors to the king’s chambers opened, and two Kingsguard glanced back.
Rhaegar emerged, rubbing his brow. "It’s been a long day," he said wearily, then turned to leave.
The Kingsguard, ever vigilant, responded, “Good night, Prince.”
Moments earlier, Rhaegar had been part of an important discussion in the royal chambers.
The heir prince was about to be officially named!
...
Princess’s Bedroom.
Creak.
The door quietly opened a crack, and a purple eye peered inside. It was quiet and dark.
Outside, Rhaegar, nervous, slipped into the room quietly. He passed through the dimly lit hall, gently lifting the bead curtain to reveal a large carved bed. Rhaegar sighed in relief when he saw that the person in the bed was still asleep.
“Luckily, Rhaenyra is asleep,” he thought. Discussing the matter of marrying more wives would be awkward.
“Rhaegar!”
In the quiet room, a cold voice suddenly rang out. Rhaegar’s body stiffened, and he clenched his teeth.
Click!
A candle lit up the room, casting a hazy glow. Rhaenyra sat quietly on the edge of the bed, holding a candlestick, staring at him with her neatly dressed figure. Judging by her posture, she had been awake for a long time.
Rhaegar was embarrassed, unable to move.
Rhaenyra looked stern and slapped the edge of the bed. “Come here!”
“Okay,” Rhaegar obediently stepped forward and sat down next to her, feeling the warmth of her firm presence behind him.
He took the candlestick and looked around before asking, “Where are the babies?”
“Sara is taking care of them,” Rhaenyra replied, rolling her eyes in exasperation. “What were you doing in my room in the middle of the night?”
In the middle of the night, instead of sleeping, she heard the Cannibal growling and guessed that he had returned.
Rhaegar lay on his side, resting his head on her lap, wrapped in her red dress, his arms around her delicate waist. “I’m going to be king,” he said.
“Yes, and I’m going to be queen,” Rhaenyra replied, lifting his chin with her white fingers and looking into his slightly melancholy purple eyes. “Not happy?”
“It’s a lot of trouble,” Rhaegar admitted.
“How many people would love to have trouble but don’t get it?” Rhaenyra’s eyes softened, and she gave him an encouraging look. “Think about Aegon and Aemond’s divisions and how to deal with Daemon after your ascension.”
“Daemon won’t get off lightly,” Rhaegar muttered. “I caught a wild baby dragon, and there’s another one in the Smoking Sea. I want to go, but they won’t let me.”
Rhaenyra listened silently, stroking his face with her delicate hands. She knew Rhaegar wanted to go to the Smoking Sea to find something to cure his father.
After a while, Rhaegar yawned and said he was sleepy. He hugged her soft waist and rubbed his cheeks against her, wanting to get a good night’s sleep first.
“Rhaegar.”
“Hm?”
“You came into my room in the middle of the night just to tell me a story?” Rhaenyra’s voice was soft, and her eyes gleamed mischievously.
“Huh?” Rhaegar opened his eyes. Red fabric covered his face, and all he could see was white. “Who said you could sleep?” she said.
Rhaenyra put her hands behind her back, adjusting her red dress. Her legs clenched tightly, and Rhaegar’s eyes went dark.
“Are you afraid I’ll get angry?” Rhaenyra raised her hips to find a comfortable position, breathing heavily. “Serve your queen well!”
“Woof woof!” Rhaegar whined, shaking his head in protest. He didn’t like this approach.
“No protest allowed!” Rhaenyra was fierce, just as when she bullied him as a child, and she pushed his head under her red dress. Rhaegar’s eyes filled with tears.
Lying on the side of the bed, he was kicked under it and forced to kneel. Rhaenyra was always so bossy, always bullying him when they were little, always doing strange and bad things.
Rhaegar wiped away his tears on the white sheet and resigned himself to his task.
“Sss!” Rhaenyra gasped, her earlobes turning rosy red, her waist arching involuntarily. One hand propped on the soft mattress, the other pressed against her red dress. Her legs squeezed tighter, and her eyes flashed with a sense of revenge.