Knock, knock...
Someone was knocking at the door.
A voice came from outside the bedroom—Lanael's:
"Rhaenyra, may I come in?"
"Come in!"
Rhaenyra quickly responded.
Creak—
Lanael pushed the door open and was surprised to see Rhaegar training a young dragon.
"Rhaegar, another dragon?"
"Cousin, thank you for making the trip from Tideshore Island," Rhaegar said, standing up after setting the young dragon down.
Lanael smiled lightly.
"It's nothing. As long as Rhaenyra had a smooth delivery, that's what matters."
Rhaenyra, who was nursing her child, subtly turned her body to the side to shield herself and changed the subject.
"Is something wrong?"
Rhaegar noticed the small gesture and picked up a thin blanket, draping it over her back.
Lanael, seeing the intimate exchange between the two, rolled her eyes but quickly refocused on the purpose of her visit.
"The Devourer has arrived at the Red Keep. The Hand of the King sent me to find you, Rhaegar. There are many urgent matters to attend to."
From the king's coma and the queen's power grab—
To financial expenditures across the realm and the Greens gathering their unsavory allies—
A prince with regency powers was desperately needed to resolve these issues one by one.
Rhaegar's brows furrowed slightly. The situation was clearly troublesome.
Lanael glanced at Rhaenyra before summarizing the most critical information:
"Alicent has been feeding the king milk of the poppy to manipulate the Small Council. The situation is now under control."
She also mentioned that the king had tried to resist Alicent but fell unconscious again.
Upon hearing this, Rhaegar's face darkened.
After a brief moment of thought, he made his decision.
"I need to check on my father."
There were no external injuries, yet the king remained in a deep sleep.
He wouldn't be at ease unless he examined his father himself.
"I'll go with you," Rhaenyra said, preparing to bring the two children along.
Rhaegar didn't refuse. He picked up his eldest son and stepped out first, leaving Lanael to help Rhaenyra get dressed.
He also took the small green dragon with him, handing it over to the dragonkeepers stationed at the Red Keep to be sent to the Dragonpit.
Soon, the group ascended the staircase.
Walking behind them, Lanael glanced at the two boys and sighed enviously.
"Rhaenyra, you're truly remarkable—you've already secured your heirs."
Rhaenyra turned back to comfort her.
"You'll have more children in the future. The maesters' diagnoses aren't absolute."
After her last difficult childbirth, Lanael had suffered injuries, making it difficult for her to conceive again.
Lanael shook her head, showing no visible disappointment. Instead, she made a suggestion.
"You are my friend and the foster mother of my two daughters. Have you considered a marriage alliance? Our three houses could form an unbreakable bond."
"This…"
Rhaenyra hesitated.
Rhaegar smoothly took over the conversation with a smile.
"There's no rush. The children are still young. If they develop feelings for each other in the future, we can arrange a marriage then."
Rhaenyra was taken aback.
Rhaegar gave her a reassuring look.
The proposal was tempting.
With Laenor gone, Lanael was set to become the leading figure of House Velaryon and a future council member of Lys.
A marriage between their children would strengthen ties with both Daemon and the Sea Snake.
Lanael picked up on the implied refusal but didn't press the matter. Instead, she smiled.
"That's fine too. The children will grow up together, and feelings may naturally develop."
Rhaegar returned her smile and helped Rhaenyra continue up the stairs.
He could foresee Daemon and the Sea Snake's influence expanding tremendously over the next decade.
While a marriage alliance would help solidify royal authority, it would also come with complications.
He didn't want Daemon and the Sea Snake using the marriage as an excuse to interfere in royal affairs.
If they ever made mistakes, it would be difficult to deal with them harshly.
Moreover, the children were still too young. Arranging a betrothal so early might not be ideal.
They could miss out on better matches in the future.
---
### The King's Chambers
Rhaegar arrived, holding his eldest son in his arms, and was immediately met by two Kingsguard knights.
Upon seeing the prince—and the baby in his arms—the two knights were visibly moved.
"I'm here to see my father," Rhaegar stated.
"Please, go in, Your Highness!"
The two knights hurried to open the doors.
The events of the previous day were still fresh in their minds.
With the prince's return from Oldtown and the birth of two royal heirs, everything was falling back into place.
Rhaenyra entered first, followed by Rhaegar.
Inside, Grand Maester Orwyle stood with a troubled expression, discussing treatment options with Maester Munkun.
Seeing Rhaegar, Orwyle quickly bowed.
"Your Highness."
"Shh."
Rhaegar approached the bedside, lifted the beaded curtain, and looked at his unconscious father.
"Have you identified the cause?" he asked.
Orwyle shook his head with a heavy sigh.
"Unfortunately, no."
"He was merely startled, not injured." Rhaegar frowned deeply.
Orwyle remained silent, shaking his head again.
The king's condition was highly unusual. The fact that his initial wound refused to heal had already been a warning sign.
Scholar Mukun said, "I have earned a Valyrian steel link in the study of mysticism and possess some knowledge of magic. Perhaps I can provide an explanation."
"Let's hear it."
Hearing the word "magic," Rhaegar immediately took the matter seriously.
Mukun first nodded to Orville before continuing, "I once read an autobiography of a wandering witch doctor that described similar cases. They often occurred in individuals with weak constitutions who had suffered a fright, resulting in symptoms such as catatonia or extreme lethargy."
He paused for a moment and added, "Some young children would even fall into a deep coma, a condition known as 'lost soul syndrome.'"
"The soul?"
Rhaegar frowned deeply, finding the situation particularly troublesome.
He possessed many extraordinary abilities—his physical strength and magical power were unmatched in this era.
However, he had never studied the nature of the soul.
The knowledge passed down by fire sorcerers and rune masters, as well as the process of transforming into a dragon-blooded being, all seemed to be connected to the soul in some way.
Yet, none of these things were suitable for healing.
After a moment of thought, Rhaegar asked, "Do the ancient texts mention any methods of treatment? Would the help of a witch doctor be necessary?"
He knew of several individuals with extraordinary abilities.
Greenhand Gael, the Red Robed Monk Varys, and the Red Priestess from the Temple of R'hllor.
"It's useless!" Mukun shook his head and dismissed the idea. "That wandering witch doctor was of little skill—his autobiography was full of exaggerations. More importantly, the soul is not like the body; it cannot be tampered with lightly."
Rhaegar pondered, "If a witch doctor is not the answer, there must at least be some kind of medicinal remedy?"
People who enjoy boasting rarely record their failures in autobiographies.
Mukun hesitated before saying, "The ancient texts do mention a few rare plants and minerals that, when used, can refresh the mind. Perhaps they might aid the soul."
"Where can they be found?"
"Prince, see for yourself."
Mukun looked somewhat embarrassed as he picked up an old, yellowed parchment book from the table and handed it over with both hands.
Rhaegar flipped through it carefully, his expression growing increasingly grave.
Mukun explained, "This text comes from Old Valyria, dating back approximately 380 years. The plants and minerals described in it are buried in the Lands of Long Summer."
That meant they were in the Smoking Sea.
With a loud thud, Rhaegar shut the book, his emotions growing complicated.
That cursed place—the Smoking Sea—was not somewhere one could simply decide to visit.
Orville and Mukun remained silent, adhering to the belief that silence was golden.
Rhaenyra stepped forward, worriedly taking Rhaegar's hand.
Laenor spoke seriously, "Daemon and I once considered exploring the coastline, but both Vhagar and Caraxes were highly resistant to the idea, so we eventually gave up."
Rhaegar's mind raced as he recalled a passage from the ancient text:
"It grows upon carrion, resembling an orchid. Its pollen carries a fragrance, and when harvested, it nurtures the spirit."
It sounded strikingly similar to the Reviving Orchid he had encountered before.
Unsure, Rhaegar asked, "Rhaenyra, do you still have the scented powder I gave you?"
There had only been two portions of Reviving Orchid powder—his own had been used up long ago under the strain of war.
Rhaenyra froze for a moment before quickly replying, "I still have a little left."
She pushed open the door and instructed someone to retrieve it.
Seeing this, Mukun let out a breath of relief and left with Orville.
Soon, a maid named Sara arrived, carrying an exquisite powder box.
Rhaegar opened it and found that about a third remained—roughly a month's supply.
The rarity of the item made it all the more valuable. Reviving Orchids grew in the Smoking Sea, a place that few could reach.
Even Rhaegar himself had been reluctant to use it often, only occasionally sprinkling some to aid sleep.
Now that he had it in hand, all he could do was try.
Viserys lay on the bed, his face pale, his breathing weak and shallow, completely motionless.
Rhaegar sighed deeply, heart aching for his father's suffering. He pinched a small amount of the powder and sprinkled it on the pillow.
Rhaenyra lowered her gaze, recalling how her father had stood up just yesterday to punish Alicent.
They waited for a long time, but nothing happened.
Rhaegar sprinkled a little more powder and took his father's left hand, secretly channeling fire magic to stimulate his blood flow.
His father had studied binding spells and was skilled in manipulating fire magic.
This method could effectively strengthen the body.
One minute… two minutes…
A full ten minutes passed.
Beads of sweat formed on Rhaegar's forehead, his body temperature steadily rising.
The baby in his arms widened his eyes and, overwhelmed by the heat, kicked his legs frantically, trying to escape from the sweltering embrace.
Then—
"Mmmhmm~"
A low groan escaped from Viserys' lips, and his complexion gradually turned rosy.
Rhaegar was overjoyed. He quickly set his squirming son down on the bed and gently called out, "Father, wake up."
Viserys slowly opened his eyes, blinking in confusion as he followed the sound of his son's voice. "Rhaegar… you're back?"
If Rhaegar was already here… how long had he been unconscious?
"You suddenly collapsed yesterday, so I rushed back to King's Landing overnight," Rhaegar explained, understanding his father's thoughts. "How do you feel? Are you still dizzy?"
Viserys hesitated, then said, "Not bad. I feel more energetic than yesterday. My body feels warm."
Rhaegar and Rhaenyra exchanged glances, both seeing the joy in each other's eyes.
"Wait a moment!"
Viserys struggled to clear his mind, his gaze falling on the baby in Rhaenyra's arms. Shocked, he asked, "Whose child is this?"
Had he only been unconscious for a day?
How was it that yesterday, she had still been pregnant, but today, she was already holding a baby?
"Waaah~"
As soon as the sound left his mouth, a soft, childish whimper echoed in his ears.
Viserys' expression changed slightly as he slowly turned his head.
In his line of sight, a fair-skinned baby lay beside him, gazing at him with a pair of clear, violet eyes.
Viserys' eyes widened as he stared intently at the baby.
The elderly man and the infant locked eyes, silently observing each other.
"Gurgle~"
The baby tilted its little head, its tiny stomach rumbling as it sucked on its thumb.
Viserys immediately perked up, nearly jumping out of bed. He gently pinched the baby's chubby little hand, his eyes brimming with affection.
After watching for a long moment, he turned toward his daughter and earnestly advised, "The child is so young—how can he grow up strong and tall on an empty stomach?"
Rhaenyra looked slightly embarrassed. She handed her younger son to Laenor before taking her elder son into her arms to nurse.
Interestingly, the elder son was particularly well-behaved—no matter how he was positioned, he never cried.
Viserys then turned his gaze to Laenor, eagerly reaching out his hands. "Let me see this little one."
"Waah~"
As soon as Laenor handed the baby over, the child immediately let out a series of fussy whimpers.
Viserys' face broke into a broad smile, almost like a blooming chrysanthemum. He playfully squeezed the baby's chubby little legs and exclaimed joyfully, "This little one is so strong—he's bound to grow into an exceptional warrior!"
Rhaegar chuckled. "The one in Rhaenyra's arms is the real-born warrior."
"Don't be so quick to judge—children have limitless potential," Viserys said, gently playing with the baby in his arms.
He then looked toward Rhaenyra, who had turned her back to him, and asked, "Which of the twins is the older one? Have you named them yet?"
(End of Chapter)