"Royal hunting!"
Aemon was surprised and quite happy.
Didn't that mean he would be going back to King's Landing?
"Yes, I heard it's to celebrate the King's son's second name day, and nobles from all over the realm are invited to attend."
Gunthor rolled his eyes and said indignantly, "The royal family is so deeply rooted, and our king seems to have endless coin."
In addition to hosting a tournament, there was also going to be a royal hunt. Even a child's birthday had to be proclaimed to the realm and celebrated like a festival. It was pure nonsense—how could that be how a king should rule?
Aemon didn't care about the complaints behind him and dove into the excitement of the royal hunt.
He had an unreliable father and a mother who let him run wild.
His life was completely confined to Runestone, and he was nearly cut off from King's Landing.
There, in the capital, were royal kin who shared his blood—and mighty dragons descended from ancient Valyria.
And his good friends were there too.
"Little boy, stop pulling weeds."
Gunthor frowned—the sheep wouldn't eat them anyway.
Aemon reacted immediately, dragging William and running straight toward the castle.
He wanted to ask his mother to confirm the news.
Before William could respond, he was already being hauled off by the smaller boy's surprising strength.
After sprinting ten meters, the excited Aemon suddenly stopped, pointed his little claw at the two-meter-tall strongman, and said seriously:
"You're in charge now. Supervise them in collecting Ula grass!"
Gunthor froze. He hadn't expected to be ordered around by such a tiny lordling.
His Highness Aemon didn't care about reason and acted all serious, snorting, "And also, call me Prince—don't be rude."
After running a fair distance, he looked the tall man up and down, as if finally remembering him.
But his self-proclaimed "ferocity" was undercut by his childish voice, making it thoroughly nonthreatening.
Regardless of what Gunthor thought, Aemon dragged his little follower and made a swift escape.
Leaving the two-meter man standing stunned in the wind.
...
Aemon rushed all the way back into Runestone and found his mother to question her in detail.
It was confirmed—there really was going to be a royal hunt.
King Viserys had personally declared to the realm that all noble houses were invited to the Kingswood to celebrate the second birthday of his eldest son, Aegon.
Lady Rhea, who had been drinking, made a special announcement.
The raven sent to Runestone had even mentioned Aemon by name—he was to attend.
This should've been brought up the night before, but Rhea had seen how tired the little guy was and didn't want to risk him losing sleep from excitement.
"Oh, great!"
Aemon was overjoyed and sprinted back to his chambers like a madman.
Finally, he was getting out of Runestone—he could explore again.
...
Three days later.
The royal hunt was a grand affair, and the nobles had to prepare ahead of time to ensure a smooth journey.
The Royce family was no exception.
"Move it!"
Lady Rhea rode a brown warhorse, leading a company of Vale knights with a composed expression.
There were no fewer than fifty people, and the party included several carriages.
They were ready to depart.
At this moment, Aemon was tucked inside a carriage, gazing out at his mother's heroic bearing with open admiration.
They called it "bronze," but in truth, it was polished brass.
For significant events, key members of House Royce would don bronze armor—layered calfskin beneath orange-tinted brass plates on top.
Mounted on sturdy warhorses, they led their full-plated Vale knights like a column of "iron cans."
Across all of Westeros, they could go wherever they pleased without fear.
It was simply Tycula!
"When I become a knight, I'll be just that grand," Aemon muttered.
William, riding a pony beside the carriage, was already dreaming of having his own bronze armor etched with runes and passed down as a family heirloom.
Aemon gave him a look and muttered, "You'd better focus on picking Ula grass first."
In three whole days, the boy had only found two clumps.
Truly pitiful.
William scowled, offended. "What use is that grass anyway? It's not worth as much as a suit of bronze armor!"
"Then have you found bronze armor?" Aemon tilted his chin at him, eyes narrowed.
"Of course I have!"
William finally saw a chance to redeem himself. He puffed up his chest and said proudly, "My family has an old set. I've also heard that Gunthor's family has one too. I'll find them for you when I get the chance."
What was so special about bronze armor?
The Royce family had more than a dozen cadet branches—digging up a few old sets was no big deal.
"Heh, cousin, you're amazing."
Aemon smiled brightly and gave him a thumbs-up without hesitation.
Truly a master of flattery, serving everyone to their tastes with ease.
With a stream of rainbow praise, young William was left blushing and flustered.
He could only raise his chin and pretend to be modest. "Don't mention it—it's my duty."
Even though he didn't really understand what Aemon was planning, the two were close—he would do his best.
Aemon gave him a few more compliments, then retreated into the carriage with a satisfied grin.
Runestone's bronze armor was all used up.
But how could the "family heirlooms" be overlooked? When he returned from King's Landing, he'd be sure to score big.
Suppressing his glee, he turned to the seat beside him—on it were two items: a backpack stuffed full of Ula grass and a furnace vessel holding the black dragon egg.
"Perfect! This much Ula grass is enough to weave a proper mat."
Aemon grinned, his chubby cheeks bunching up.
In three days, he'd gathered 24 clumps in total.
There wasn't time to collect more, and it seemed the pastures didn't have much left anyway.
Just in time.
He skillfully opened the [Magic Essence Panel]. A blank white screen appeared with three face-down cards: one green, two blue—all too expensive for now.
Aemon's eyes lingered on the [Strong] talent on the third blue card.
With that, his physical prowess would skyrocket.
He'd be ahead of the pack right from the start.
But it cost 200 essence points.
He couldn't afford it—at all.
Sighing through the heartache, Aemon glanced at the golden hourglass icon on the panel: [Essence: 31]
His heart warmed again.
He dismissed the radiant panel and opened the furnace vessel forged from black steel.
A wave of heat burst out, and the carriage's temperature rose sharply.
Checking on the black dragon egg—still no sign of hatching. Aemon sighed and gently placed his hand on the shell.
"Magical item detected. +3 essence acquired."
After the pleasant chime, he covered the vessel again.
Dragon eggs were indeed living things—and they granted generous essence.
Once every three days, 3 points per use.
Aemon smiled—his future was looking bright.
Soon, the group set off.
The Mountains of the Moon lay northwest, but Lady Rhea led the party swiftly southward.
The mountain paths were steep and the road to King's Landing too long.
To the south was Gulltown, the Royce family's longtime neighbor. It controlled the Vale's only port—and by ship, they could save precious time.
Aemon was ecstatic, leaning out the carriage window to take in the passing scenery.
In his heart, he thought, the world outside is really big.
They should be able to reach their destination before sunset.