Seeing her looking so pitiful, Rhaegar gently removed a fallen leaf from the tip of her hair and asked softly, "Do you want to get better at swordsmanship?"
Helena glanced at him timidly, nervously twisting her fingers.
Dreamfyre gave her courage, but it still didn't feel like enough.
Deep inside, she hoped that improving her sword skills would help her better protect herself.
Rhaegar continued, "If you really want to practice swordsmanship, I can ask Ser Arryk of the Kingsguard to take some time to teach you."
"Really?" Helena tilted her head, her big eyes lighting up.
"Of course." Rhaegar nodded with a smile. "But only if you take it seriously and aren't afraid of hardship."
He didn't believe that women should only learn needlework and prepare for marriage.
Every Targaryen held limitless potential.
Helena quickly responded, "Yes! I want to practice swordsmanship and become a strong woman like Queen Visenya."
Everyone had their own idols.
Rhaenyra admired the warrior queen, Nymeria, and her great achievements.
Helena idolized Visenya Targaryen.
Rhaegar, too, deeply respected the brave and wise Visenya. He ruffled Helena's hair and thought for a moment before saying, "If you become skilled in swordsmanship, I'll give you a gift."
"What kind of gift?" Helena asked curiously.
Rhaegar glanced at the wooden sword in his hand and shook his head. "That's a secret—but I promise it'll be great."
"Mhm!"
Helena was overjoyed and immediately threw herself into his arms.
She clung to him like a little monkey. Rhaegar smiled helplessly and lifted her legs to support her.
"Thank you, brother."
Helena whispered as she wrapped her arms around his neck and planted a kiss on his cheek.
Rhaegar shook his head with a laugh, patting her back before kissing her forehead.
Like him, Helena had dragon dreams and was also bound by the trials of her gift.
Perhaps because of this, she had been close to him since childhood.
Their sibling bond, displayed so openly, stirred emotions in those around them.
Standing behind Rhaegar, Rhaenyra narrowed her eyes slightly as she watched Helena cling to him.
Sensing someone's gaze, Helena lifted her face from Rhaegar's shoulder and met Rhaenyra's stare head-on.
Rhaenyra's expression softened slightly, hiding some of her coldness to avoid frightening her.
But to her surprise, Helena simply smiled, tightened her grip around Rhaegar's neck, and nuzzled closer to him.
Her large, watery eyes stared straight into Rhaenyra's.
---
Meanwhile…
Watching his older sister being held in their eldest brother's arms, Aemond blinked and quietly moved a little closer.
He wasn't sure why, but deep inside, he felt an inexplicable sense of longing.
It was as if he envied both his brother Rhaegar and his sister Helena.
Rhaegar noticed the boy's small movements and reached out to pull him into a half-embrace, smiling as he asked, "What is it? Do you have something to say to me?"
Unlike with their reckless eldest brother, Aegon, Rhaegar was generous with his care toward his younger siblings.
"Uh…"
Suddenly pulled close, his head resting against Rhaegar's arm, Aemond froze, his mind going blank.
After a long moment, his face flushed red, and he stammered, "Big brother, do you remember… before we went to Storm's End, you promised…"
"To take you to Dragonstone to tame a dragon!"
Seeing him struggle to get the words out, Rhaegar finished the sentence for him.
Aemond's eyes lit up, and he instantly regained his composure, nodding eagerly. "Yes! That's right!"
"No need to rush."
Seeing the boy's expectant gaze, Rhaegar pondered for a moment and said, "There will be a Kingswood Hunt in a month. After that, I'll try to convince Father to go to Dragonstone with us. While we're there, I'll help you tame a dragon."
Through old Valyrian scrolls and texts by Daenilgar, Rhaegar had been studying the bond between dragons and their riders.
He wanted to persuade his father to spend more time with dragons.
He had another plan as well.
Rhaegar had mastered a certain binding spell and wanted to teach it to his father, who could then pass it on.
With his father's influence, the Targaryens could be united once more.
A trip to Dragonstone was inevitable.
Hearing that Rhaegar would take him to tame a dragon, Aemond couldn't contain his excitement. "Really?"
*Smack—*
Rhaegar flicked him on the forehead and scolded, "You're a man. Don't act like Helena."
Aemond clutched his forehead, his face instantly falling.
"Rhaegar, put Helena down. It's time to go back."
Rhaenyra's voice suddenly rang out, carrying a hint of coldness.
Rhaegar turned back in confusion and saw Rhaenyra's calm expression.
After so many years together, he immediately sensed that something was off about her mood.
His mind quickly ran through the possibilities—there had been no major arguments between them recently, so why was she upset?
Deciding not to press the issue, he gently set Helena down and ruffled both her and Aemond's hair. "Go play."
"Okay!" Helena nodded obediently, grabbing Aemond's hand and skipping away.
Her steps were light and cheerful, practically bouncing.
When Rhaegar looked back again, Rhaenyra had already turned and walked off, her red skirt swaying as she moved.
His eyes flickered with thought.
What had he done to displease her?
---
That night, under the dim glow of scattered stars and a bright moon, the King's chambers were softly illuminated by a few flickering tallow candles.
*Knock, knock…*
In the quiet, shadowy corridors, the sound of knocking echoed.
**"Cough, cough..."**
Viserys's coughing echoed through the room, followed by his hoarse, labored voice: **"Come in."**
It was clear that the coughing had left his throat dry, making it difficult for him to breathe.
**Creak—**
The door opened from the outside. Rhaegar stepped in first, scanning the dimly lit chamber.
Behind him, Rhaenyra peeked her head in, her silver hair cascading over her cheek.
Rhaegar glanced at her and chuckled. **"Come on in. We're not thieves."**
**"It's just my first time coming here at night."**
Rhaenyra shot him an annoyed look, lifting the hem of her black dress slightly as she stepped lightly into the room.
Since leaving the godswood, Rhaenyra had been giving him the cold shoulder.
If not for her desire to witness their father's treatment with her own eyes, the siblings wouldn't have exchanged a single word before entering the chamber.
Holding a tray with a tallow candle, Rhaegar took Rhaenyra's hand and led her further inside, toward the bedroom.
**"You're both here?"**
Viserys was slumped against the headboard in a loose nightrobe, looking exhausted. He hadn't expected his daughter to come as well.
**"She insisted on coming."** Rhaegar sighed helplessly.
He had already informed their father the previous night that he would treat his wounds.
The royal banquet had delayed it until tonight.
Viserys gave a weary smile. **"Well, since you're here, be gracious about it."**
Rhaenyra shot Rhaegar another glare, then quickly walked to the bedside and murmured, **"I wanted to check on you."**
As she spoke, she picked up a goose-feather pillow and carefully placed it behind her father's back.
She knew his wounds were severe, though he had never allowed her to see them firsthand.
Rhaenyra wanted to understand the pain and burden he bore.
**"Ha, there's nothing worth looking at—just a body covered in wounds."**
Viserys looked at his daughter and still found the energy to jest. **"You should see me during the day in my regal attire—I still have some dignity then."**
Rhaenyra heard the unspoken resentment in his tone and silently squeezed his hand.
But as their fingers intertwined, a tremor ran through her.
The hand she held was missing two fingers.
She glanced at his other hand, wrapped in layers of bandages, faint streaks of red seeping through.
Her head dropped immediately, and she bit her lower lip.
During the day, her father was the king—lofty and untouchable.
She had only seen his outward frailty, but it hadn't truly sunk in.
Now, deep in the night, with all pretenses stripped away, she was witnessing his vulnerability for the first time.
Just this small glimpse made her chest tighten and her nose sting.
At a loss, she turned to Rhaegar, her large eyes glistening with unshed tears.
**"Sigh... What am I going to do with you?"**
Rhaegar let out a soft sigh and walked over, whispering, **"Remember? Father isn't as fragile as you think."**
That was what Rhaenyra had told him earlier that day.
Tears streamed down her cheeks as she choked out, **"Rhaegar!"**
Perhaps the setting changed her perspective.
Seeing their father like this and hearing those words from Rhaegar filled her with guilt, leaving her utterly ashamed.
**"Why are you crying? This doesn't stop me from enjoying life."**
Viserys pulled her into an embrace, kissing the top of her head gently. **"You're right. Resilience is one of my few strengths."**
**"I'm sorry..."** Rhaenyra buried her face against his chest, sobbing too hard to speak.
She hadn't expected a mere look or gesture from her father to affect her so deeply.
Rhaegar sat beside the bed, patting her back gently. **"No one is blaming you. Let me start the treatment."**
Rhaenyra sniffled and blurted out, **"Go ahead, just don't let him suffer."**
Rhaegar: **...**
Viserys: **...**
Father and son exchanged a glance, both seeing the same helpless resignation in each other's eyes.
Rhaegar pulled Rhaenyra aside, cautioning, **"Father has many wounds. Don't be afraid."**
**"I'll be fine."**
Rhaenyra wiped her eyes and stepped back to give them space.
Nodding, Rhaegar helped Viserys remove his robe.
Rhaenyra had witnessed the carnage of war at Stonehelm and Harrenhal—she was no sheltered noblewoman.
The treatment began quickly.
**"Hiss—"**
Viserys sat bare-chested, occasionally letting out hissing breaths as new flesh formed over his healing wounds, the pain and itching mingling together.
Rhaegar remained silent, guiding the strange-looking Ouroboros to draw out the black smoke seeping from each wound.
Midway through, Rhaenyra couldn't take it any longer.
She hurried to the other side of the bed, climbed up, and cradled her father in her arms.
Leaning against her shoulder, Viserys found some relief from the pain and forced out a small smile.
At last, the treatment was complete.
Without a word, Rhaenyra helped him into his nightrobe again, carefully smoothing out the creases.
Rhaegar held his father's wounded hand, examining the fresh scar that now only had a thin red line across the knuckle.
He remembered clearly—this wound had been deep enough to expose bone.
The Ouroboros shouldn't have been able to heal that much flesh.
A thought struck him, and he pondered to himself, **"The wounds can definitely be healed. I must be using the wrong method."**
Though still somewhat breathless, Viserys felt noticeably lighter after the treatment.
Watching his children fuss over him, his heart swelled with contentment. He chuckled, **"It's late. You two should get some rest."**
The moment they had entered the room, he had sensed tension between them.
As their father, he didn't want to take up more of their time.
**"No rush. I still have a question."**
Rhaegar's hands paused as he locked eyes with Viserys, his expression serious.
**"Father, have you ever considered claiming another dragon?"**
(End of chapter)