Thanks to the timely words of Duke Stephen and Duchess Stephen, who were favored by the King, Viserys was finally released from his overly-protected life, which was essentially house arrest. His daily life would be managed by a nanny chosen by Duchess Stephen, and more importantly, he began to receive a royal education.
But Viserys had no interest in the reading lessons. These lessons were taught by a Maester from the Citadel. The first lesson was about the Dance of the Dragons, a history lesson about the Targaryen family's decline during the civil war. A brother and sister fought for the throne, and their dragons were almost completely wiped out.
Viserys was inattentive. He already knew about this history of self-destruction from within, which laid the foundation for the dynasty's ultimate downfall. What he craved now wasn't this knowledge. It would be better to teach him some more practical knowledge, such as identifying plants, herbal recipes, astronomy, geography, or even goat farming or common diseases of foals. If he was forced to wander overseas in the future, he couldn't live as a beggar relying on handouts.
He finally endured the end of the class and ran off, the prince didn't know that the Maester shook his head at his back, concluding in his heart that he didn't like to read.
Viserys had to pay 100% attention to the next thing because it concerned his future: he rushed to the Red Keep's arena, where he heard his brother, Rhaegar, was practicing with Arthur Dayne. Viserys decided to learn a few moves from them no matter what.
He ran and threw off the accessories he was wearing, even his embroidered robe. He only wore a clean silk outfit, like a happy bird, and plunged into the arena.
Uh----
He saw a knight on a white horse, armored from head to toe in black armor, shining brightly----a ruby-red three-headed dragon family crest on his chest, this was his brother, Rhaegar. He galloped, a red silk ribbon tied to the end of his lance, like a flowing line of blood spilling out towards the enemy----his brother raised his lance and gently poked, and the rider on the opposite horse fell to the ground.
"Uh, they're not going easy on him, are they?"
At that moment, his brother turned his horse around. Viserys thought he'd seen him because he gestured for him to stay back. Immediately, two knight-like figures in white cloaks firmly blocked his path.
Viserys simply squatted down, continuing to watch the fight from between his knees. This time, he saw another knight. He was tall, riding a black horse, and also completely armored from head to toe. On his chest was a coat of arms with crossed swords and a shooting star. He charged towards Rhaegar at least twice as fast as the man who'd just been defeated!
Wow!! Viserys blurted out. The lances of the two knights clashed, sending out sparks, but neither man dropped his lance, nor did either fall from his horse!
A draw?
Rhaegar removed his helmet, panting slightly as he looked at his stunned younger brother. Viserys was once again stunned by his beauty! Silver hair, armor... a true god! Finally tearing his gaze away, he saw the face of the knight opposite him. He was a young man with a resolute face and pale yellow hair. The knight, who was following Rhaegar, was walking towards him. Was this the famous strongest knight, the Sword of the Morning?
But Viserys still rushed towards his brother first. Because he was filled with sorrow, he remembered that Rhaegar had probably died in this very armor at the Battle of the Trident. He absolutely didn't want that to happen! Although the armor hurt him, he bared his teeth and reached out towards Rhaegar, wanting a tight hug.
Rhaegar was stunned for a moment, then easily lifted Viserys onto his shoulder, walking towards the inner hall. He said gently, "You're still too young, Viserys. This isn't a place for you."
Viserys shook his head, his eyes fixed on the man following close behind. He watched as the man took a massive sword from the hands of two struggling attendants. The blade was white and gleaming. The young prince immediately called out in a cheerful voice, "I want to learn too! Swordsmanship, brother! Teach me!"
Rhaegar felt a headache coming on, realizing his attempts at dissuasion had no effect on his younger brother. He himself had only started learning swordsmanship at eleven. His brother was still so young, the sword was taller than him. Not knowing what to do, the Sword of the Morning offered a solution for the brothers: "Your Grace, the young prince could begin his education early and exercise his arm strength in preparation for the future. Many children in Dorne's families begin their training at this age. You needn't worry."
The young prince gave him a grateful, sparkling look.
In the end, Viserys received a small silver-stringed bow and arrow from his brother Rhaegar. He pestered his brother to promise him a pony when he turned six.
Following that, the king heard about his health and vitality. Viserys was given the opportunity to appear publicly at the celebration of Aerys II's sixteenth anniversary of his coronation and the court banquet. It was on that day that he met his biological father for the first time.
He was shocked when he saw the person sitting on the throne: this famous Mad King was only in his thirties, yet how did the Targaryen bloodline manifest in him with silver hair and a long, aged beard? His dim purple eyes darted around nervously, and his fingers, gripping the throne, trembled slightly. It was as if a line of text was etched on his forehead: Someone is going to kill me!
Despite this, Viserys pretended to be respectful and bowed to the Mad King. As the old madman sized him up, Viserys wore a joyful expression: he was still a child of five, and he was dressed very brightly that day: he wore a pale purple brocade tunic embroidered with a golden dragon and a slender crown on his forehead, looking like a beautiful and harmless doll. Of course, compared to Rhaegar, who was also wearing fine clothes and sitting beside the king, he didn't shine much.
The Mad King's gaze moved between his eldest son, Rhaegar, and his second son, Viserys. A firstborn son who was becoming more and more prestigious among his subjects and was both skilled in martial arts and literature was undoubtedly the best gift from the gods for a wise and capable ruler. But Aerys was clearly not that – he stared at Rhaegar, constantly turning over in his mind the images of the royal family's stillborn infants and the children who died young. Was his queen loyal to him? Otherwise, how could the punishment of the gods have descended? Was his son loyal to him? Was he impatient to sit on the Iron Throne?
Loyalty—what a precious luxury!
He ascended the Iron Throne, ushering in prosperity and filling the royal coffers. And yet, Tywin Lannister, arrogant and proud, had betrayed his sworn oaths of loyalty, spreading malicious rumors that the King was merely a puppet! That the King's Hand was the one truly ruling the realm!
Aerys II loathed such betrayal and could not tolerate the Lannisters' arrogance. He glared at his eldest son, then turned to Tywin, who had entered the hall with a blank expression to pay his respects. The King knew why Tywin had brought his daughter to King's Landing.
The King had already conjured a vision of Rhaegar marrying a Lannister, thus forming an alliance to force him to abdicate. This infuriated him so much that his hands trembled. When Tywin stepped forward to bow, Aerys II unleashed his venom, "Why didn't you bring that infamous, misshapen whelp from Casterly Rock? Perhaps the dwarf who will perform later can see if he has any potential."
The hall erupted in murmurs at these words. Viserys, seated on a small throne to the side of the Iron Throne, nearly slid off. Good heavens! He's insane! For Tywin to endure such public humiliation and not retaliate for years to come was truly magnanimous—
Viserys widened his eyes, observing the provoked man's reaction. Duke Tywin, still wearing his gleaming, jewel-encrusted chain of office and brooch, and a somber black velvet cloak, lowered his eyes. His golden hair was streaked with white as he replied to the monarch in a voice that betrayed no emotion, "My youngest son, Tyrion Lannister, is devoted to his studies. The Maester of Casterly Rock is planning his future."
He looked like a black-maned lion, silent and crouching under a tree, claws sheathed. But a lion nonetheless.
The King sneered again, "Don't forget that learning to do somersaults on a table is also a form of knowledge."
"Really?"
Everyone heard a child's voice, full of joy. It was the young prince, sitting to the side. He spoke loudly, as if he'd found a fun new toy. "I want to play with this person! Your Grace, Duke, can I? Let him come to King's Landing? Be my playmate?"
Aerys, eager to see the Lannisters humiliated, readily agreed to Viserys's request. "Well? Will you defy the king's command?"
Tywin, expressionless, stated that he would send Tyrion to King's Landing. Then, he turned to his main purpose, slightly raising his head. "Your Grace, my eldest son, Jaime Lannister, and eldest daughter, Cersei, have also come to pay their respects to you and the Queen. They hope to have the honor of serving you as your loyal servants."
Aerys scoffed. "Your golden twins, eh? Wanting to stay here and show off how dazzling your gold is? I allow it. They can stay if they wish." He would dash Tywin's hopes - the arrogant and overbearing Lannister family must be taught a lesson by the king in King's Landing!
Seeing him continue to court disaster, Viserys's headache intensified, but he also sincerely admired Tywin. Truly, he could endure, and he could lower his stance. He was worthy of being one of the most outstanding politicians of this era... After another round of Aerys's mockery and sarcasm, Tywin bowed and withdrew, silently glancing at the two princes to the side.
Rhaegar was silent, his expression melancholic.
Viserys, however, was looking at him, his eyes… Tywin was certain it was admiration. But this was a bit absurd. How could a child barely five years old have such thoughts?
He left the audience hall without a word, ignoring the whispers of the other nobles and the blatant mockery of the fools who had the king's backing. He walked out to the courtyard, under the sweet-sleep flower trees, where two points of gold shone brightly amidst the verdant shade. His two children, thirteen-year-old Jaime and Cersei, were facing each other, talking intimately.
Tywin saw Cersei's hand resting on Jaime's chest, and frowned. He strode over and told them that he would send someone to bring Tyrion to King's Landing.
Jaime was pleased to hear the news. Cersei, however, furrowed her slender brows. "I'm his sister, oh, no, if others see me, they will think of me as his sister! How awful!"
"Watch your words, Cersei. Tyrion is also a Lannister. Our family's honor is one and the same."
Cersei did not dare to contradict her father. Soon enough, she had no mind to worry about her dwarf brother. Her heart was filled with anticipation for the audience with the queen later, when she would surely win the envy of all the noblewomen, because she was the most beautiful woman in the Seven Kingdoms! At the banquet and jousting tournament in King's Landing, she would be the most dazzling owner of the crown of love and beauty, the Rose!