Three days later.
King's Landing, Mud Gate.
Several large ships docked at the port as soldiers carried one wounded soldier after another off the vessels.
Rhaegar disembarked, and the first thing he saw was a familiar figure.
"Rhaegar!"
Surrounded by a group of guards, Rhaenyra waved enthusiastically, her face beaming with joy.
Rhaegar's usually cold gaze softened instantly, and he quickly walked toward her.
Rhaenyra also ran toward him.
Pushing through the crowded throng, the siblings rushed toward each other and embraced tightly.
Rhaenyra wrapped her arms around his slender waist, looked up at him, and couldn't contain her excitement. "Rhaegar, you were incredible! You won a great victory!"
"It was nothing—just fighting and killing, as always."
Rhaegar chuckled softly, lowering his head to bury his face in Rhaenyra's hair.
Feeling her warmth in his arms, his tense nerves finally began to relax.
Rhaenyra leaned her cheek against his, her eyes filled with concern as she gently patted his back.
They had been apart for days, and not a single one had passed without her worrying about him.
He had barely returned before rushing off to the battlefield.
No one was more concerned about Rhaegar's safety than she was.
As the siblings clung to each other, a pair of graceful figures approached, surrounded by guards.
One was Alicent, now dressed in a simple white gown.
The other was Jeyne, dressed casually.
Jeyne stood with her hands behind her back, smiling as she watched the scene unfold.
She showed no jealousy, nor did she intend to interrupt.
Alicent, however, was staring intently at Rhaegar, looking impatient.
After a moment, Rhaegar lifted his head and glanced at the two onlookers.
"Do you need something?"
His brows furrowed slightly, and his tone was indifferent.
Did they not know when to look away?
"Congratulations on your victory, Rhaegar."
Jeyne spread her arms wide and, right in front of Rhaenyra, pulled both Rhaegar and her into a hug.
Rhaegar's eyes showed a hint of helplessness.
Rhaenyra was momentarily stunned—she hadn't expected Jeyne to be so bold.
"You—"
Before she could say more, Alicent quickly cut in, "Rhaegar, your father has prepared a feast in your honor. You should return to the Red Keep."
"Alright."
Rhaegar gently squeezed Rhaenyra's hand, signaling her to calm down.
Jeyne released him and gestured for them to proceed.
Rhaenyra shot her a glare before taking Rhaegar's hand and walking ahead.
They had all come with carriages prepared.
Boarding the carriage, they returned to the Red Keep.
---
**Noon.**
The Red Keep hosted a grand banquet to celebrate the great victory at the Stepstones.
Viserys drank heartily at the feast, lavishly praising his eldest son's achievements, his joy uncontrollable.
Rhaegar, however, only nibbled on a few pastries before slipping away from the banquet.
---
**Bathhouse.**
Rhaegar soaked in the steaming hot water, enjoying the gentle kneading of a pair of small hands.
During his days at the Stepstones, he had been constantly strategizing and making plans.
To say he was physically and mentally exhausted was no exaggeration.
After a while, as the fatigue on his face eased slightly, Rhaegar murmured, "Alicent asked you to write me that letter, didn't she?"
"I didn't want to distract you," Rhaenyra replied from the balcony, her voice carrying a hint of guilt.
"It's fine. The Dornish siding with our enemies already disgusts me."
As he spoke, Rhaegar caught the small hands kneading his chest and ordered, "Go add more hot water, Baolan."
"Yes, my prince."
The hands slipped away, revealing a young girl with long, wavy brown hair and sun-kissed skin. She carried a water pitcher and left to fetch more.
Rhaenyra turned from the balcony and questioned, "Is she the spy you planted in Riverrun?"
*Splash—*
Rhaegar flicked a handful of water and chuckled. "Don't be so jealous. Baolan has been with me since I was six. She's earned her keep."
"Who's jealous?"
Rhaenyra's cheeks flushed as she hastily changed the subject. "Then why did you call her back?"
"The old Tully's two sons have settled their dispute. There's no need for further surveillance."
Rhaegar's gaze deepened as he added, "The winds are shifting. I need as many hands as I can get."
Rhaenyra didn't fully understand, but she knew the kingdom was at war.
As the crown prince, Rhaegar's preparations were only natural.
Just as they were talking, Baolan returned with the water pitcher and poured steaming hot water into the tub.
As the temperature rose, Rhaegar let out a satisfied sigh, resting his head against the edge of the tub.
"Hmph! Wash yourself. I'm going back to my room."
Hearing Rhaegar's pleased sigh, Rhaenyra pressed her thighs together and fled, flustered.
Before leaving, she slammed the door shut with a *bang*—as if venting her frustration.
Watching her retreat, Baolan resumed her position behind Rhaegar, massaging his head. She chuckled softly, "The princess is quite shy."
"Yeah. Unlike you."
Rhaegar leaned back, resting his head against something soft.
Baolan didn't mind and replied, "I've settled the families of the men you ordered me to bring back. They're all housed in the Dragonpit now."
---
**"Mm, got it."**
Rhaegar closed his eyes, drowsiness washing over him.
The small hands massaging his head shifted positions—his shoulders, chest, lower abdomen…
Until they reached a new head.
Rhaegar let out another low moan, his spine straightening.
…
Night fell.
Rhaegar awoke from a deep sleep, put on the clothes he had prepared earlier, and stepped out of the bathroom.
As he walked down the hallway, he hesitated for a moment.
In the end, he headed toward his own bedroom.
After being apart for more than half a year, Baolan's skills were still as refined as ever. His entire body felt refreshed.
He decided not to disturb Rhaenyra's rest.
Standing at his bedroom door, Rhaegar pushed it open and stepped inside.
Under the warm glow of candlelight, the bedroom was as tidy as always.
After closing the door, he turned around—and was startled.
By the dim light of the fireplace, a young girl in a white dress was crouched near the hearth.
Rhaegar took a closer look and was surprised. "Helaena?"
The little girl lifted her head, her teary eyes gazing up at him. Her fair face was streaked with tears.
With a soft, fragile voice, she whimpered, "Brother~~"
Rhaegar walked over and asked, "Who made you cry? Why are you hiding in my room?"
"No one made me cry."
Helaena shook her small head and hugged her legs tightly, curling herself into a ball.
Rhaegar plopped down beside her, added two more logs to the fireplace, and asked, "What did you hear?"
This little girl had a delicate heart.
Whenever she was upset, she usually found a quiet place to cry alone.
It was the first time she had run to his room in tears.
Helaena nodded slightly, her voice barely audible. "I heard Father and Mother arguing. They were fighting really badly."
She had really overheard Viserys and Alicent quarreling.
Knowing her brother would return today, she had hidden in his room, waiting for him.
Rhaegar sighed, ruffling her hair. "Don't be scared. It's normal for married couples to argue."
"Am I going to marry the Prince of Dorne?"
Helaena leaned against him and timidly asked.
She understood what marriage meant.
She had also heard the frightening rumors about the Dornish.
That was what truly scared her.
Rhaegar spoke gently, "No. Targaryens don't have to bow to anyone. I'll send the Dornish envoys away tomorrow."
"Really?"
Helaena's eyes sparkled with admiration as she looked at her big brother.
"Really."
Rhaegar pulled her into his arms, patting her back reassuringly. "Brother is a shield. I'll protect you from any storm."
"Mmm…"
Helaena was deeply moved, clutching his clothes and burying her face in his chest.
Rhaegar chuckled, letting the little girl hold onto him.
After a while, he felt dampness seeping into his shirt.
He wanted to comfort her.
But when he looked down, he realized she had fallen asleep.
"You sure can eat and sleep. No wonder you're so chubby."
Rhaegar sighed, a faint smile on his lips, as he lifted Helaena and placed her on the bed.
Helaena bore a striking resemblance to Alicent—her features were delicate and petite.
But unlike Alicent's slender figure, Helaena's slim appearance was deceptive—underneath her clothes, she was all soft flesh.
After settling her in, Rhaegar shrugged and left the bedroom.
He would have to ask his dear sister for a place to stay tonight.
…
The next morning.
After breakfast, Rhaegar and Rhaenyra walked out of the room together.
Ser Erryk stood guard outside the door.
Rhaegar asked, "Has Helaena gotten up yet?"
Erryk replied respectfully, "The little princess left early this morning."
"Did she go to the Dragonpit?"
Considering her reclusive nature, that was the only place Rhaegar could think of.
Erryk kept his gaze forward, indicating he didn't know.
"Let's go," Rhaenyra said, looping her arm through his, her eyes smiling.
Rhaegar nodded.
Their father wanted to discuss the marriage alliance with him and had arranged for him to meet the Dornish envoys.
He really was being treated like a workhorse.
…
**The Throne Room.**
Viserys sat upon the Iron Throne, a broad smile on his face.
Despite drinking heavily the night before, he looked refreshed and energetic that morning.
In the center of the grand hall, a group of flamboyantly dressed jesters performed.
Two rotund men played the roles of pirate queens from the Three Daughters, while a tall, lanky man portrayed a Dornishman.
In front of them, two dwarfs performed a comedic routine.
A dwarf was dressed in a black dragon-shaped costume, crawling on the ground back and forth.
Mushroom, wearing a silver wig and holding a short, thick wooden sword made to resemble a dragon's claw, sat atop another dwarf and shouted, "Devourer, charge!"
The dwarf beneath him let out a few cries and crawled toward the skinny jester.
Viserys watched with great interest and remarked, "Mushroom may not be of sound mind, but he always manages to come up with entertaining performances."
"Indeed, a jester's duty is to amuse the monarch," Otto responded with a smile, standing beneath the Iron Throne.
"You arrogant Dornish swine, taste my blade!"
The dwarf crawled among the three jesters as Mushroom swung his wooden sword forcefully, striking them one by one.
The three jesters screamed in exaggerated agony, tumbling and scrambling on the ground.
"Haha! I, Rhaegar Targaryen, am the greatest dragon rider!"
Mushroom raised his wooden sword high, laughing theatrically.
The three jesters knelt down, bowing their heads repeatedly and pleading for mercy.
"Spare us, Young Dragon King!"
"Do you dare to invade our lands again?"
"No, never again! Never again!"
"Then get out of here at once!"
"Long live the Young Dragon King! Long live the Young Dragon King!"
Mushroom, filled with excitement, rode the dwarf around as they crawled in disarray.
The three jesters rolled on the ground, chanting, "Long live the Young Dragon King!"
At first, Viserys didn't take much notice of their cries.
But suddenly, he stiffened and asked, "Does 'Young Dragon King' refer to Rhaegar?"
Otto, still watching the performance, replied absentmindedly, "Yes. The prince achieved a great victory over the Kingdom of the Three Daughters, earning the respect of the entire army and the title of Young Dragon King."
"Young Dragon King..."
Viserys narrowed his eyes slightly, a glint flashing within them.
At that moment, Mushroom noticed that the king was no longer laughing. Alarmed, he quickly climbed down from the dwarf and knelt on the ground.
The other jesters followed his lead, kneeling in a row.
"Your Majesty, it's just a title—a testament to the prince's exceptional bravery," Otto said dismissively, waving his hand to disperse Mushroom and the others.
"You're right. It's just a title," Viserys muttered, then broke into a smile again. "Rhaegar is my eldest son. He deserves that title!"
(End of Chapter)