His coughing successfully caught the attention of his father and brother.
Larys struggled to walk over to his elder brother and instinctively glanced at his father before humbly saying, "Brother, it's time for you to marry a noble lady and continue the family line."
"I know, Larys," Harwin responded gruffly, in a foul mood.
Larys's sharp eyes gleamed with understanding as he said meaningfully, "I just saw the prince and princess enter the tent hand in hand. Truly a match made in heaven."
Harwin's body tensed, and he cautiously scrutinized his younger brother.
"Don't look at me like that. Everyone thinks so."
Larys maintained a faint smile, offering a deliberately ambiguous explanation.
"Enough, Larys!"
Leonor could no longer bear it and sternly put a stop to the conversation.
All of this was nothing more than the eldest son's improper fantasies. It had to end—no one should be spreading rumors.
Larys paused, then gave an awkward smile. "Yes, Father."
As he looked at his crippled second son, Leonor's expression softened slightly. Lowering his voice, he asked, "Where is that woman?"
"Who?" Larys feigned confusion for a moment.
Leonor's face darkened. He pointed his riding crop at his son and said in a low, stern voice, "Don't play dumb. Where is Alys Rivers hiding?"
"Father, Alys Rivers ran away on her own. How would I know where she is?"
Larys hunched his back, trying to appear as humble as possible while pledging his loyalty. "If I knew her whereabouts, I would have told you immediately."
Leonor's expression remained unchanged, his eyes full of suspicion. "You really don't know?"
"I swear on my life," Larys answered earnestly.
Hearing this, Leonor's gaze flickered with uncertainty. He tapped his riding crop against his son's shoulder repeatedly, emphasizing each word: "True or not, remember—she is trouble. Do you understand?"
When House Strong migrated to Harrenhal, Alys Rivers had suddenly disappeared.
At first, they thought she had simply fallen behind or gotten lost along the way.
Having known her for many years, Leonor still had some affection for her and had even considered sending people to find her.
The next time he heard of Alys Rivers, however, was when the Crown Prince secretly ordered a thorough search of the Red Keep—looking specifically for her.
Leonor had long suspected that his younger son had close ties to Alys Rivers, so he was testing him now.
Larys cautiously took a half-step back and lowered his head. "Rest assured, Father. I won't forget."
"Hmph! You brothers had better behave yourselves."
Leonor snorted coldly, threw the riding crop into Harwin's arms, and stormed off in frustration.
Neither of his sons gave him any peace of mind.
As soon as their father left, Harwin's face darkened with worry, and he quickly followed him out of the stable.
Larys remained where he was, lifting his head slightly. His deep gray-brown eyes followed the departing figures of his father and brother.
---
### Inside the Main Tent
Viserys sat at the head of the gathering, beaming as he exchanged pleasantries with the assembled lords and knights.
He enjoyed lively festivities, and the royal hunting expedition was one of his favorites.
"Your Majesty, you must visit Casterly Rock sometime. The mead there will leave you utterly enchanted," Jason said, holding a goblet of red wine and speaking with a hint of boastfulness.
Viserys saw through his little trick and said smugly, "Lord Jason, if you truly wanted me to taste it, you should have brought a whole shipload with you."
"…"
Jason was momentarily speechless before making an excuse. "I left in a hurry. Next time, for sure."
"Very well. I look forward to our next meeting." Viserys, ever magnanimous, didn't press the issue.
The royal hunt primarily invited nobles from the Crownlands and the Stormlands.
However, Viserys felt it wasn't lively enough, so he had also invited some lords from nearby coastal regions.
Among them were the Lannisters from the Westerlands, the Hightowers from Oldtown, and the Redwynes from the Arbor.
"Your Majesty."
Otto approached with a solemn expression.
Viserys was in the middle of raising his cup for a toast and didn't have time to entertain his Hand of the King.
He downed the drink in one gulp. Just then, Daemon entered the tent with his family.
Accompanying them was a woman with dark hair streaked with silver.
"Viserys!"
Rhaenys walked ahead of her cousin and daughter, greeting him warmly.
Viserys set down his goblet, his face lighting up with surprise. "Cousin, you all came!"
"Brother." Daemon's expression was calm as he nodded in greeting.
"Find a seat. Later, you'll have to drink with me until we're both drunk."
Viserys was delighted, but after glancing toward the entrance of the tent, he asked in confusion, "Lord Corlys didn't come?"
Rhaenys sighed helplessly. "Corlys is always buried in work."
"Haha! Compared to him, I must look like a king who does nothing at all."
Viserys chuckled at his own joke.
A few years ago, he had seen Corlys and House Velaryon as an unstoppable force that constantly kept him on edge.
Now, however, he was confident enough to jest about it freely.
Feeling the warmth in her cousin's demeanor, Rhaenys shook her head with a smile. "You never hold anything back, do you?"
Though she spoke lightly, a hint of sorrow flashed in her eyes.
Laena, standing beside her mother, squeezed her hand reassuringly and gently touched her slightly rounded belly.
---
### A Familiar Face
After parting ways with Erryk, Rhaegar encountered another familiar face—Tyland Lannister.
Tyland was far more handsome than his twin brother Jason. His golden hair was neatly groomed, his beard meticulously trimmed, making him the epitome of a refined gentleman.
"Prince, we meet again," Tyland greeted him with a bright smile, approaching eagerly.
Three years ago, he had led a failed surprise attack on Grey Gallows Island. As a result, he had been stripped of his position as Master of Ships and had narrowly escaped prosecution.
It was Rhaegar who had pointed him toward another path—overseeing the construction of the Dornish Prince's palace near the border.
Nominally, Tylan could be considered Rhaegar's advisor.
When Tylan approached, Rhaegar greeted him with a smile, "It's been half a year since we last met. How have you been?"
"All is well," Tylan nodded repeatedly.
After exchanging a few tacit pleasantries, Rhaegar got straight to the point: "There's been an issue with the supply materials for the prince's palace. Do you know the source of the problem?"
Tylan's expression shifted slightly. In a low voice, he said, "I personally visited those noble territories. It's likely they were acting under the instructions of Lord Borros."
"Very well," Rhaegar sneered. "Borros never seems to learn his lesson."
After discussing a few matters concerning the prince's palace, the conversation gradually veered off track.
Tylan hesitated briefly, then spoke with concern, "Your Highness, thousands of Dornish refugees have gathered at the Boneway entrance near the Vulture Mountains. They seem to be stirring restlessly."
"Has there been any response from Sun Spear?" Rhaegar frowned.
"No. Lord Qoren has been too preoccupied with establishing diplomatic relations with Braavos to manage anything else," Tylan replied regretfully.
After a moment of contemplation, Rhaegar said, "The Boneway is treacherous terrain and difficult to traverse. Remind the Tarly family at Blackport to patrol and garrison the area more frequently."
A mere few thousand refugees did not particularly concern him.
The Boneway was a rugged and perilous path. The narrow trails along the cliffs allowed passage for only one person at a time, where a single misstep could mean falling to one's death.
The Tarly family, stationed at the exit of the Boneway, could easily hold the line. Even if tens of thousands of Dornish regular forces attempted to breach it, they wouldn't succeed.
Before they could chat much longer, Rhaegar heard Rhaenys calling for him. Apologetically, he said, "I'll go check on her."
"Of course, Your Highness." Tylan smiled as he took his leave.
With the construction of the prince's palace halfway complete, maintaining good relations with the crown prince would be beneficial for his return to power at court.
---
The tent was somewhat crowded. Rhaegar made his way through greetings and exchanges with nobles until he reached the slightly more spacious seat of honor.
Spotting Rhaenys in a fitted dress, he smiled and greeted her, "Aunt."
"Rhaegar."
Rhaenys, in good spirits, stepped forward and gave her nephew a hug.
Rhaegar bent slightly to ensure she could embrace him comfortably. "Is Lord Corlys not here?" he asked casually.
"You're just like your father—you both care more about Corlys than you do about me."
Rhaenys sighed and complained, "He stayed on Driftmark. He didn't want to attend the hunt."
Rhaegar let out an "oh" and didn't press further.
He then greeted Daemon and Laenor.
Only then did the event begin to fall into place.
Otto, expressionless, approached the king and reported, "Your Majesty, the messenger has delivered word that Lord Borros is on his way and will arrive shortly."
At the mention of Borros' name, Viserys' smile faded, and he furrowed his brow. "I've already arrived, and he's still late?"
"They say his carriage broke down on the way," Otto relayed the messenger's excuse.
Viserys scoffed disdainfully, "What do you think?"
"The truth is uncertain, but Lord Borros has indeed failed to arrive on time," Otto replied indifferently.
Bang!
Viserys' expression darkened as he slammed his goblet onto the table, cursing, "He's putting on a bigger show than I am as king. What a fool!"
The royal hunting event had always required nobles to arrive first, with the royal family making their appearance as the grand finale.
Borros' deliberate late arrival was a blatant show of arrogance.
Their conversation was not intentionally concealed, so those nearby could hear it clearly.
Jason's eyes gleamed with mischief as he interjected, "Your Majesty, Borros Baratheon's disrespect toward the royal family deserves severe punishment."
Viserys shot him a glance, smirking coldly. "Oh? What brilliant idea do you have, Lord Jason?"
"Borros is arrogant and unfit to be Duke of Storm's End," Jason blurted out without thinking, speaking with increasing conviction. "He should be stripped of his title and replaced by a descendant of Lord Boremund's kin."
"That way, we can both punish Borros and publicly demonstrate royal authority, while also earning the loyalty of the new Duke of Storm's End."
When Jason finished speaking, an awkward silence fell over the scene.
Otto, standing nearby, calmly observed him with a strange glint in his eyes.
Viserys chuckled mockingly and said with interest, "Lord Jason, by your reasoning, what crime should I use to punish Lord Borros?"
Otto curled his lips into a sarcastic smile. "Perhaps for the crime of a broken carriage wheel that delayed his arrival."
"No! That's no excuse!"
Jason immediately retorted, grandstanding, "Lord Borros deliberately caused difficulties for the royal family by interfering with the supply materials for the prince's palace."
As soon as he finished speaking, Viserys' expression turned grim, his tone sharp: "Do you have any evidence for that claim?"
"Uh…"
Jason was stunned, realizing he might have made a mistake.
Under the king's intense gaze, Jason grew flustered, his eyes darting nervously as he tried to shift responsibility. "I don't have any evidence, but everyone knows about it…"
"Everyone knows!?"
Viserys, visibly displeased, pressed further, "And who exactly is 'everyone'?"
He despised Jason's presumptuousness and even more so his loose tongue.
If he truly intended to punish without evidence, there would have been no need to host the royal hunt at all.
(End of chapter)