Game of Thrones: The King of Bronze and Fire

Dusk.

The sun slowly descended, painting the sky a brilliant crimson.

"Hey-yo! Hey-yo!"

In a sea of swaying grass rippling in the breeze, a small, round backside stuck up in the air, wobbling left and right as its owner struggled backward.

A few guards stood nearby, watching in stunned silence.

One of them made a move to help, but before he could step forward, the little backside suddenly launched into the air, executing an impromptu flying meatball attack.

"Ouch!"

A childish cry of pain sounded as a silver-gold head popped out of the grass.

Aemon sat on the ground, stray blades of grass adorning his hair, muttering: "This is way harder to pull out than I thought."

Even his backside felt like it had been split in two.

"Prince, do you need any help?"

One of the guards, looking embarrassed, bent down to ask in a low voice.

"No need, I've already succeeded!" Aemon waved him off proudly.

In his hand, he clutched a small bundle of dark green grass.

The Magic Essence Panel chimed in with a prompt:

"A cluster of Ura Grass containing magic has been discovered. Magic Essence +1 obtained."

Aemon beamed with satisfaction and dusted himself off as he stood up.

Thanks to the [Guidance Once] card, this precious remedy couldn't be left unharvested.

After calling on a few guards to accompany him, he had headed straight for the eastern coast.

"I knew this would be a piece of cake!"

"Let's see what it does."

Aemon grinned mischievously, rubbing his small hands together as the glowing panel materialized before him.

One of the three cards had disappeared, and the golden hourglass beside it now read: [Essence Count: 7].

The [Guidance Once] card had cost 10 Magic Essence, while the newly acquired Ura Grass had added 1 point, perfectly balancing out the current total.

Aside from that, little else had changed on the panel.

"So, it's just a plant?"

Holding up the Ura Grass, Aemon scrutinized it as if trying to uncover its secrets.

This plant wasn't exactly rare—he'd heard of it in his previous life.

Alongside ginseng and deer antlers, it was considered one of the "Three Treasures" and was primarily used as winter bedding.

Through the panel, Aemon gradually pieced together its true potential:

Weave it into a mat, lie on it, and sleep!

The magically infused Ura Grass offered warmth in winter and coolness in summer, calming the mind and aiding restful sleep.

With it, he wouldn't have to worry about strange dreams or stunted growth anymore.

"What a treasure you are!" Aemon's violet eyes sparkled like stars.

The only downside? There wasn't enough of it—not even to make a proper cushion.

Rubbing his chin thoughtfully, Aemon's clever mind kicked into gear.

He stomped around in a circle, scanning the vast sea of grass.

One small opportunity? Surely there's more than one cluster of Ura Grass!

Aemon's thoughts raced. He was already planning an ambitious grass-pulling campaign on the hills.

"One cluster is worth 1 Magic Essence, so ten clusters would be 10 Magic Essence…"

A zero-cost goldmine! This was the road to prosperity!

Just as he was formulating his grand plan, a voice interrupted him:

"Prince!"

A guard approached from Runestone and bowed. "Lady Rhea has returned. She's waiting for you in the hall."

"Oh, I see."

Snapping back to reality, Aemon stuffed the Ura Grass into his pocket.

Flanked by his guards, he made his way back to the towering, majestic castle.

Despite his short legs, Aemon moved quickly and managed to return home before nightfall.

In the spacious hall, Lady Rhea had been waiting for some time.

"Mother, I missed you so much!"

Covered in dust, Aemon ran up to the regal woman with open arms, his chubby face beaming with a bright, endearing smile that made it impossible to stay angry with him.

Lady Rhea, stoic as always, let her son collide with her straight legs, which he wrapped around like a chain.

"When did you get back? I was planning to greet you!"

Aemon tilted his head back, flashing a grin full of little white teeth.

"You can't scold someone with such a sweet smile!"

His pure, sparkling gaze stayed fixed on his mother.

Lady Rhea was in her prime—a tall, commanding beauty with black hair and dark eyes inherited from her First Men lineage.

Her slim, athletic build exuded strength, complemented by her strikingly elegant features: almond-shaped eyes, a high-bridged nose, and an aura of classical beauty.

It was no wonder Queen Alysanne herself had once chosen Rhea as a granddaughter-in-law.

"Sigh…"

Lady Rhea studied her son for a moment before sighing and rubbing her forehead in exasperation.

Just look at him—covered in dirt, muddy shoes, and with a pocket full of grass even goats wouldn't eat.

Anyone who didn't know better would think he had just returned from a hunt.

With a sheepish grin, Aemon asked playfully, "How long are you staying this time, Mother?"

The youthful innocence of his childlike body lent him a natural charm, making him seem pure and untainted—a budding scholar with endless potential.

Lady Rhea, unable to resist his antics, pulled up a chair and answered distractedly, "Not long. There's another hunt coming up soon."

"Oh."

Aemon had long grown used to such answers.

"What do you think of this fawn?"

Rhea gestured toward a small pile of hunting trophies in the hall. She pulled out the carcass of a fawn, roughly the size of a dog, and continued matter-of-factly:

"You love venison, don't you? This one's for roasting or stew."

Before Aemon could reply, she pulled out two gray rabbits.

"Winter in the Vale is harsh. I'll have gloves sewn for you from these snow hares' soft pelts."

She went on to admire her other trophies: "And this black bear—you won't need it, so I'll keep the pelt in my room."

Left on the sidelines, Aemon blinked. "I'm touched, but I dare not move."

Listening to his mother's endless stories about her hunt, the already-tired Aemon began nodding off.

Noticing this, the old septa stepped in, using dinner as an excuse to break up the scene.

The maids swiftly brought the food to the table.

Sitting at the table, Aemon swung his little legs back and forth as he craned his neck to see what was on his plate: white bread, sausages, and mashed potatoes—a classic, hearty meal.

Lady Rhea joined the table with little enthusiasm, eating absentmindedly from her plate.

Sitting across from Aemon was his "study companion," a boy clad in golden-yellow bronze armor, eating neatly with a fork.

Aemon's eyes narrowed. "Why are you dressed like that?"

Since the Andals arrived on Westeros' shores, iron had gradually replaced bronze. However, the Royces still adhered to their ancient tradition of wearing bronze armor.

But wearing it at the dinner table? That was just odd.

William Royce, his companion, swallowed his food, set down his utensils gracefully, and offered a self-satisfied smile.

"Lady Rhea has agreed to take me on the next hunt."

Aemon blinked, his small knife stabbing at his sausage.

Fine, go. But what's with the smug look?

William Royce, a direct cousin of Aemon, had been assigned as his attendant and study partner.

In canon, William was mentioned briefly as the wielder of Lamentation, a Valyrian steel sword, and one of the Black Queen's loyal knights. Tragically, he died leading a foolish rescue mission during the Dragonpit riots, losing both his life and the precious sword.

"I'm done!"

After wolfing down his food, Aemon hopped off his chair, his round belly protruding slightly.

With his legs too short to reach the floor, he gave a little jump to land.

Lady Rhea frowned at his retreating figure but said nothing, instead instructing the old septa: "Get him a better chair."

Ura!!