"How is my sister now?"
Letting out a sigh, Rhaegar couldn't help feeling worried for Rhaenyra.
Ser Erryk didn't hide anything. "The princess ran out of her tent before I arrived. The guards said she entered the Kingswood on horseback."
"Alone?"
"Ser Criston Cole followed close behind her."
Rhaegar nodded, then suddenly asked, "Ser Erryk, what exact words did my father use when he sent you to find me?"
Erryk looked slightly puzzled but answered honestly, "His Majesty ordered me to bring the prince back safely and ensure your protection."
"Good."
Rhaegar smiled faintly. "Then I'll be counting on that protection of yours."
Before Erryk could make sense of the words, Rhaegar jogged toward the nearest fenced pen where the horses were tied and ducked inside.
"Your Highness, what are you doing?" Erryk quickly followed, still confused.
Rhaegar pointed to a tall black stallion and asked, "How about this one? Looks sturdy, doesn't it?"
"Prince… don't tell me—you're going into the Kingswood?"
Erryk was quick-witted and immediately understood what Rhaegar intended. He tried to stop him.
Rhaegar placed a hand on the horse's foreleg, his expression serious. "Not me—us. We're going to the Kingswood together."
"His Majesty would never allow you to wander off!"
"With a White Knight guarding me, it's hardly wandering, is it?"
Rhaegar gave him no chance to refuse. He plucked a few strands of the horse's mane and said softly, "Ser Erryk, you don't want to see me get hurt, do you?"
As he spoke, his small hand tightened slightly.
The horse neighed and stamped uneasily, clearly in pain.
Rhaegar stood right by its leg, calmly watching Erryk.
"What will you choose, ser knight?"
Erryk stared at the young prince who was threatening himself with danger.
At that moment, he silently mourned for the king.
Having children this troublesome must drive a father mad.
Then he mourned for himself.
For he knew that if the boy truly wanted to risk his own body, there was nothing he could do to stop him.
Erryk swallowed hard and lowered his head. "I'll take you to find the princess—but you must obey my orders along the way."
"No problem, ser."
Rhaegar's pale face lit with a faint smile as he stretched out his arms.
Erryk stepped forward and lifted the thin boy into the saddle.
He untied the reins and led the horse out of the pen.
Mounting up himself, the White Knight wrapped one arm around the young prince and took the reins in the other.
With a squeeze of his legs, he urged the horse forward.
"Hyah!"
Soon, the black stallion was galloping out of the camp, down the forest path toward the Kingswood.
"Ser, do you know where my sister went?"
Rhaegar's loose hair fluttered in the wind as he asked.
Erryk kept his face serious. "Cole is a clever man. He left signs along the way."
Hearing that, Rhaegar relaxed.
Anyone qualified to become a Kingsguard was never ordinary—leaving marks behind would be nothing to him.
Time passed quickly.
When they'd left the camp, the sun had been high. Now dusk was falling, painting the woods in gold.
Under the fading light, Erryk led the horse slowly down a pine-shaded path.
"Ser, I think my luck is cursed. I'm probably not meant for search missions."
Lying weakly against the saddle, Rhaegar's lips were pale, and his forehead glistened with sweat.
Erryk sighed. "Perhaps. Cole's trail vanished halfway through. We're like headless flies now."
"Heh… must be Rhaenyra's doing. She doesn't want anyone finding her."
Rhaegar gave a weary chuckle.
Erryk didn't respond, focused instead on finding the route back to camp.
The Kingswood was vast, and with Rhaegar's constant directions, they had gone too far.
Rustle… rustle…
Suddenly, faint footsteps in the brush came from behind.
Erryk, ever the seasoned protector, instantly sensed danger and turned toward the sound, eyes sharp.
Rhaegar, exhausted and frail, hadn't yet realized anything was amiss.
Erryk gently pulled the reins to make the horse step back, one hand moving to the sword at his waist. His voice was low and steady.
"Your Highness, something's coming from that direction—something large."
"Is it dangerous?"
Rhaegar straightened up a little.
"I don't know. Could be a poacher… or a wild boar."
"Should we ride away before it gets close?" Rhaegar suggested softly.
Erryk's tone carried a trace of pride. "Don't worry, my prince. I'll stand before you."
As they spoke, the noise grew nearer.
Then, a massive stag stepped from between the trees—its entire body pure white.
"A white deer!?"
Rhaegar's eyes widened in wonder.
He loved reading histories and knew of old traditions well.
Before Aegon the Conqueror united Westeros—before dragons ruled the skies—the kings of old saw the white stag as a sign of divine favor, a symbol of kingship itself.
Over a century had passed since anyone had seen one.
Yet here, in the Kingswood, stood a living legend.
"Your Highness, this isn't the time for curiosity," Erryk warned grimly. "It's huge. If it charges, the impact will be tremendous."
Only now did Rhaegar truly notice the creature's size.
Without even counting its great branching antlers, the stag's shoulders reached nearly two meters high, its body at least five meters long.
Beneath its silken, snow-white coat rippled thick cords of muscle. The power it contained was frightening.
"Can you beat it?" Rhaegar asked nervously.
Erryk replied, "One on one… I'd give myself fifty percent."
"And with me added?"
"Then let's pray it doesn't attack at all."
There was resignation in his voice.
Rhaegar sighed, resting a hand on his forehead—his small limbs felt utterly useless.
Then—
"Roooh~"
The stag let out a low, musical cry.
Perhaps the gods favored him today, for the creature didn't attack. It simply gazed at them with gentle amber eyes full of curiosity and innocence.
"It doesn't seem violent, does it?"
Rhaegar's racing heart slowly calmed, leaving behind a strange thrill—half fear, half exhilaration.
"Roooh~"
Seeing they made no move, the white deer stepped closer, nostrils flaring as it sniffed the air.
"Ser, put me down."
The more Rhaegar looked into its eyes, the more he felt this creature was extraordinary.
"Your Highness, it's dangerous…"
"The white stag is an omen of good fortune. I trust it's no beast."
Ignoring his knight's protests, Rhaegar smiled warmly at the stag and beckoned.
"Come here, my friend."
The deer lowered its head slightly, shifting into a stance that could be taken for aggression, but its gaze was only curious as it studied the small human on horseback.
"Quickly, Ser Erryk—put me down."
"Be careful, Your Highness. This is no game."
But under the boy's repeated insistence, Erryk finally relented, lifting him down with a helpless expression.
Once on the ground, Rhaegar untied a small pouch at his waist and took out a few dried red grapes.
"My friend," he whispered, "would you like to try some?"
The deer's amber eyes brightened at the sight of the red fruit, and it took a hesitant step forward.
When the distance between them was less than three meters, Erryk's instincts took over—he unsheathed his sword halfway.
"Put your weapon away," Rhaegar said quickly. "You'll scare my friend."
"Your Highness…"
"That's an order, ser knight!"
Seeing the stag's wary gaze, Erryk reluctantly slid the blade back into its scabbard and stayed close behind the prince, ready to shield him the instant anything went wrong.
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