Hearing their father's explanation, the children grumbled in protest. Viserys sighed softly and offered a helpless smile as he defended himself: "Don't make it sound like your father is so heartless. The subjects will always fear the dragons of our family."
"If they don't do bad things, why should they be afraid of us?" Helaena asked, her round eyes blinking with innocent curiosity.
Viserys was momentarily taken aback, a hint of awkwardness flashing in his eyes.
Who in this world hasn't done at least one bad thing?
Dragons are so powerful that no one can truly be without fear.
Alicent stepped in to smooth things over, her voice light with amusement. "Helaena, your she-dragon is fierce. It's only natural for people to be afraid."
Helaena blinked slowly, only half understanding. "Oh, okay."
Looking at his sweet and adorable daughter, Viserys chuckled, pulling Helaena into his arms and ruffling her hair affectionately.
Helaena didn't resist, obediently snuggling into her father's embrace, wrapping her small arms around his slightly plump waist.
Feeling his daughter's warmth, Viserys' smile deepened. He turned to look at Alicent and sighed with emotion. "Alicent, you've given me such wonderful children."
"They are our children," Alicent corrected him softly, her eyes filled with warmth, expertly tugging at her husband's heartstrings.
Forced to witness yet another affectionate display between the king and queen, the dragon riders' earlier frustration toward their father quickly dissipated.
Rhaenyra, however, shot them a look of disdain, unwilling to watch her former friend act so intimately with her father.
Beside her, Rhaegar leaned against the carriage, staring absentmindedly at the passing scenery outside the window.
"Forbidden Spell…"
He murmured under his breath as his thoughts drifted.
Half a month ago, his father had learned the Forbidden Spell.
Yet, when it came to traveling to Dragonstone to tame a dragon, he remained hesitant, unable to make a decision.
Rhaegar had no way—nor the right—to force his father to tame a dragon.
Instead, he proposed a compromise: his father should at least teach the other Targaryens the Forbidden Spell.
Viserys flatly refused, providing a firm explanation.
"Targaryens are creatures of chaos and arrogance. If they recklessly dabble in magic, it will only bring disaster!"
Rhaegar, eager to strengthen their family, was struck by the realization.
The Targaryens were not united—at all. Their family was a fractured mess.
First and foremost, there was Daemon—a complete wildcard.
Then there were Alicent's three sons, Aegon, Aemond, and Daeron, none of whom had much respect for him as their elder brother.
The Targaryens weren't like ordinary noble families, where the eldest son inherited the land and titles while the younger sons either found their own path or swore loyalty to their elder brother.
Aegon and Daeron already had dragons. It wouldn't be long before Aemond became a dragon rider as well.
Targaryens, empowered by their dragons, were naturally arrogant and unwilling to bow to anyone.
Daemon's unpredictable nature was proof enough.
"What are you thinking about? You seem lost in thought."
Rhaenyra's voice came from beside him as she leaned in, her fingers gently brushing against his cheek.
Rhaegar snapped out of his daze and smiled. "Nothing, just realizing it's been a long time since I last came to King's Wood."
"Is that so?" Rhaenyra raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced.
Rhaegar shrugged, too lazy to argue.
Seeing his shameless attitude, Rhaenyra chuckled. "We'll arrive at King's Wood soon. Come, rest for a while."
With that, she guided him to lie down, resting his head on her lap.
Alicent, watching the scene, smiled. "The first time we came to King's Wood for a hunt, Rhaegar wasn't even as big as Daeron. He lay in your lap just like this."
Rhaenyra shot her a glance but said nothing.
If not for the fact that her father and siblings were all in the same carriage, she wouldn't have bothered acknowledging Alicent at all.
Becoming a stepmother yet still pretending to be a dear friend—what a joke.
…
By midday, they had arrived.
After passing through a muddy road where the snow had recently melted, the group finally reached the outskirts of King's Wood, where a large camp had been set up.
The Kingsguard, clad in white armor, rode ahead on their horses, announcing the arrival of the royal family.
The camp was filled with tents of various colors, bonfires crackled, and the aroma of delicious food filled the air. Nobles from all over had gathered, creating a lively atmosphere.
"Whoa—"
As the carriage rolled past a line of defensive spikes, it came to a stop at the camp entrance at the driver's command.
Under the watchful eyes of knights and nobles, the heavy carriage door slowly opened.
Viserys was the first to step out, greeting the crowd with a bright smile as he waved, stepping down onto a short stool before touching the ground.
Next, Alicent emerged, draped in a pale yellow gown with a red cloak. With her husband's support, she gracefully stepped out of the carriage.
"Your Grace… Your Majesty…"
A wave of enthusiastic cheers erupted from the nobles, and applause thundered through the camp.
Rhaegar was the third to exit. He surveyed the camp with a quick glance before hopping down effortlessly.
Turning back, he reached out his hand and gently helped Rhaenyra down.
Rhaenyra, accustomed to the gesture, stretched out her arms with a small smile.
"Brother, carry me too!"
Helaena squeezed to the front, imitating Rhaenyra's gesture with wide, expectant eyes.
Rhaegar chuckled. "Alright."
Rhaenyra shot him a deadly glare but held her tongue.
She had already warned him about this behind the scenes.
Off to the side, Aegon scowled in frustration. "Why are you pushing?" he grumbled.
Before long, the family moved together toward the main tent in the heart of the camp.
Along the way, the cheers of the gathered nobles never ceased, and the atmosphere remained vibrant.
Rhaenyra, arm-in-arm with Rhaegar, walked just behind their father and Alicent.
As Rhaegar felt the warmth of her arm against his, a gentle smile played at his lips while his eyes scanned the nobles around them.
Near the entrance of the camp, a man clad in a thick cloak sat atop a black horse. His sharp eyes gleamed with intelligence, his expression betraying a sense of weariness from travel.
Beside him, his eldest son, Harwin, and his second son, Larys, stood on foot, gazing toward the approaching royal family.
"Cough, cough…"
Larys cleared his throat twice, keeping his head lowered at all times, his gaze flickering subtly.
Apart from the Strong family, a well-dressed middle-aged man in the crowd was constantly smiling and loudly calling out, "Your Majesty, the Queen!"
This caught Rhaegar's attention, and he spotted a familiar large nose.
Beside the middle-aged man with the big nose stood a haughty-looking noblewoman and a sturdy young man.
"Monde Hightower, remember him?" Rhaenyra took note of the man, lowering her voice.
Rhaegar turned his head and smiled. "Of course. The big-nosed fool."
Monde Hightower, the Count and Lord of House Hightower, was Otto's elder brother.
He had once attended Rhaegar's crown prince coronation ceremony.
The siblings chatted and laughed as they spotted a few familiar figures near the enclosed barriers.
Daemon and Laenor, along with their twin daughters.
Rhaegar looked at Daemon, and Daemon stared back, his gaze filled with aggression.
…
Before long, the family entered the main tent.
"Your Majesty, long time no see."
As soon as Rhaegar stepped inside, a golden-haired figure strode toward him, letting out what he considered a hearty laugh.
Viserys recognized him instantly and greeted him, "Lord Jason, it has been a long time."
The visitor was none other than Jason Lannister, Warden of the West and Duke of Casterly Rock.
He had a head of golden curls, a thick beard, and dressed in extravagant attire adorned with roaring lion emblems, proudly displaying his house sigil.
Years had passed, yet Jason still carried himself with arrogance, often looking down at others.
After greeting the king, Jason politely turned to Alicent and said, "Your Majesty, you are as beautiful as ever."
With that, he exaggeratedly took Alicent's hand and planted a deep, theatrical kiss on it.
Alicent frowned slightly, forcing a smile. "You are still as gallant as ever, Lord Jason."
Every time she interacted with this arrogant man, she felt utterly uncomfortable.
Viserys noticed his wife's unease and interrupted, "Alright, let's not block the entrance. We can talk inside."
"Please, come in, Your Majesty," Jason said with an unwavering smile.
As he turned, his gaze briefly and discreetly swept over Rhaenyra, as if regretting not having greeted her.
Rhaegar glanced at him indifferently, his fingers twitching slightly.
"Prince."
Just then, Ser Erryk, clad in silver armor and a white cloak, called from the corner of the tent.
Rhaegar's eyes flickered. He muttered a word to Rhaenyra before walking over alone.
Behind a support pillar, conveniently out of everyone's sight, Rhaegar hesitated for a moment before asking, "Any news?"
"None."
Erryk shook his head, looking grim. "I searched all over the Red Keep, but there's no sign of the woman you mentioned."
Rhaegar frowned. "Alys Rivers has very distinctive features. Anyone who has seen her should remember."
Alys Rivers—a suspected illegitimate daughter or wet nurse of Hand of the King Lyonel—a dangerous individual.
He still remembered the warning from old Tully. That woman had allegedly taken refuge with Larys Strong and was hiding somewhere in the Red Keep.
To track her down, he had secretly instructed Erryk to search in secret, avoiding any unnecessary attention.
Yet, there was still no trace of her.
"Prince, there are no green-eyed, full-bosomed, voluptuous women in the Red Keep," Erryk said, frustrated. Then, he speculated, "Could she be outside the Keep, in some hidden residence?"
"Possible. But keep searching the Red Keep. Don't overlook even the smallest clue."
Rhaegar's mind raced, his vigilance heightened.
…
Meanwhile, at the camp stables.
Lyonel dismounted, effortlessly tying up his horse.
Turning around, he saw his two sons lingering near the fence, each gazing off in opposite directions.
"You two, get over here!"
Seeing this, Lyonel's temper flared, and he barked the order sternly.
"Yes, Father," Harwin quickly responded, reluctantly tearing his gaze away.
"What were you looking at?"
Noticing his eldest son's distracted expression, Lyonel frowned deeply and followed his line of sight.
In the distance, the royal family's figures were barely visible.
Lyonel's anger surged. He raised his riding crop and struck his eldest son. "Get rid of those thoughts, you useless fool!"
"I wasn't—" Harwin lowered his head, trying to argue.
*Smack! Smack!*
Two more lashes. Lyonel pointed at his son's nose, glaring. "I don't care if you were or weren't. You are past the age of marriage. Use this royal hunt as an opportunity to find a noblewoman capable of bearing children."
"Father…"
Harwin looked up in surprise, but before he could finish, another lash nearly struck his face.
"Shut your mouth. Show me that you've changed." Lyonel gritted his teeth, unwilling to hear any excuses.
Harwin had no choice but to accept, his expression filled with dejection.
*Ahem…*
Just then, Larys hobbled over, coughing twice as if to announce his presence.
(End of Chapter)