GOT King of Dragon

The siblings conversed, exchanging stories about their experiences.

Before long, a group of guards arrived.

"Rhaegar, Rhaenyra!"

The weary-looking Viserys pushed past the guards surrounding him, hurriedly jogging toward his two children.

"Father!"

Rhaegar called out joyfully, looking at his father with delight.

But since Rhaenyra was still leaning on him for support, he couldn't rush to embrace his father.

Hearing the commotion, Rhaenyra turned her head and softly murmured, "Father."

She had snuck out of her chambers through a secret passage, evading the Kingsguard. Now caught by her father, she couldn't help but feel guilty.

"Good, good—you're safe. That's all that matters, Rhaegar!" 

Viserys ignored his daughter's greeting and crouched before his son, his gaze filled with joy as he examined him closely.

He had always believed that his eldest son would be unharmed. 

Rhaegar would return safely—his prophetic dream had assured him of it.

Seeing her father so emotional, Rhaenyra instinctively stepped aside to give them space.

Viserys immediately pulled Rhaegar into a tight embrace, planting a firm kiss on his forehead. Beaming, he said, "Rhaegar, as soon as I heard the dragons' roars on the island, I knew you had returned."

Rhaegar wiped away the kiss's residue with a grin and began boasting about his triumphs. "I fought Vermithor and Silverwing with Glutton. No dragon on the island could stand against us."

"You're truly bold, my child," Viserys said, his expression a mix of pride and concern upon hearing his son's words.

Ever since his eldest son's recovery, everything about him had been extraordinary. But his growing recklessness worried Viserys. 

First, Rhaegar had tamed a dragon without permission. Then he took to battle with the beast. Now, fresh from his latest adventure, he had confronted two fully grown dragons right at their doorstep.

Viserys couldn't even begin to imagine what astonishing feats his son might attempt as he grew older.

Though his mind was racing, Viserys managed to speak calmly. "It doesn't matter—you've never been an ordinary child, Rhaegar."

In his heart, he believed Rhaegar to be the prince promised by the prophecy of Ice and Fire.

After all, Rhaegar, still so young, had managed to tame the largest wild dragon in history and defeat the famed Vermithor and Silverwing.

"Come, I've prepared a grand feast to celebrate your return," Viserys said, ruffling his son's hair affectionately before picking him up.

As they walked, he turned to Rhaenyra. "You disobeyed my orders again, Rhaenyra."

"I'm sorry, Father," she replied, lowering her head. "I was worried about Rhaegar. I couldn't just sit and wait."

"Never mind," he said, shaking his head dismissively. "This isn't the first time you've gone against my wishes. Come along—you look tense."

"Yes, Father," Rhaenyra replied softly, watching her father and brother, who were so affectionate with one another. A flicker of sadness passed through her eyes.

---

Inside the castle…

After freshening up, the siblings sat together at the long table in the hall.

Rhaegar, full of energy, began recounting his adventures on the peninsula.

Viserys listened patiently, sipping from his goblet, his gaze warm as he focused on his son's animated storytelling.

But when Rhaegar described reviving the Shadowbinder's head and using a cursed mask to defeat their enemies, Viserys's expression darkened.

To him, magic was as dangerous as dragons—if not more so. 

The idea of resurrecting severed heads and invoking deadly curses revolted him. Such things were abhorrent and treacherous, deserving neither respect nor trust.

"The Brune and Crabbe families… I'll need to send someone to investigate them," he thought, concealing his unease beneath a calm exterior.

Rhaegar continued enthusiastically, but when he noticed that neither his father nor sister was reacting, he felt disheartened.

He had thought these stories were thrilling—why weren't they impressed?

After a moment's thought, he shared news of the peninsula nobles pledging allegiance to him and the two thousand freedmen who had followed him across the sea.

Viserys's expression changed immediately.

Rhaenyra pressed her lips together, lifting her wine goblet to take a sip.

Sensing the tension, Rhaegar stopped speaking.

"I'm late. Are you all ready?" 

Alicent's voice broke the silence as she descended the staircase gracefully.

The three turned to look at her.

Alicent carried a baby in one arm, holding Helaena's hand with the other. Aegon followed behind, accompanied by a maid.

After a brief hesitation, Viserys turned to Rhaegar. "Those freedmen who followed you—there are quite a few of them. I'll have them transported near the Red Keep and ensure they're well-supplied."

"When you've decided how to use them, they'll be at your disposal."

Rhaegar nodded slightly. "No problem, Father." 

While the father and son were talking, Alicent walked down the stairs and took a seat at the other end of the long table. 

She looked at Rhaegar with joy and emotion, exclaiming, "Seven blessings, you've returned safely, Rhaegar." 

"Brother!" 

Helaena stood on her chair, calling out happily. 

She hadn't seen her brother in a long time either. 

Rhaegar smiled gently at Helaena and replied to Alicent, "Thanks to the Glutton for protecting me, I made it back safely." 

"That wild dragon?" Alicent asked, her expression filled with doubt as she crossed her hands in front of her. 

"From the moment I tamed it, it was no longer a wild dragon," Rhaegar emphasized. 

Alicent gave an apologetic smile. "Yes, you're very brave to tame an adult dragon all on your own." 

"Unlike Aegon, who's still trying to get Sunfyre to obey his commands but hasn't succeeded yet." 

"Mother!" 

Aegon shouted, his brows furrowed tightly. 

Rhaegar glanced briefly at Aegon before his eyes shifted to Alicent's hands. 

Those hands weren't beautiful. 

Alicent had received a noble upbringing, adhering to a philosophy of self-reliance. 

Whether it was tailoring clothes or reading and writing, these were mandatory lessons in House Hightower. 

As a result, her hands were somewhat rough, lacking the softness of someone pampered since birth. 

At this moment, Alicent seemed unaware that she was scratching the nail of her right hand with her left hand. 

She was doing it so forcefully that blood seeped from the crevices. 

Rhaegar also noticed that almost all her fingers bore signs of scratching—some wounds were new, others older, but none had healed. 

Having often interacted with maesters, Rhaegar could tell that these injuries were recent, caused within the past few days. 

Rhaegar hesitated. "Your Grace, your hands…" 

"Huh?" 

Alicent froze slightly. It wasn't until her eyes followed Rhaegar's gaze to her hands that she hurriedly hid them away. 

She gave an embarrassed smile. "Oh, sorry. My hands are a bit itchy; it might be the humidity on Dragonstone." 

"Keep warm," Rhaegar casually responded, though his suspicion grew. 

Dragonstone was indeed humid. 

But King's Landing, being a coastal city, wasn't any drier than Dragonstone. 

Alicent's explanation was unconvincing. 

Her expression betrayed something odd—she looked very nervous. 

Noticing her nervousness had been exposed, Alicent quickly changed the subject, instructing the servants, "Hasn't the banquet been prepared? Hurry and serve it!" 

Viserys nodded in agreement. 

Meanwhile, Rhaegar leaned closer to Rhaenyra and whispered, "Why does Alicent scratch her fingers?" 

As someone who had once been Alicent's best friend, Rhaenyra naturally knew the reason. She replied softly, "It's a bad habit of hers. Whenever she's nervous, she scratches her fingers until they bleed." 

"Nervous?" 

Rhaegar repeated the word silently. 

Why would someone be nervous? 

Fear, excitement… 

Or guilt. 

Some grudges must be avenged. Anyone who needs to be exposed will be brought into the light. 

(End of Chapter)