Daeron bent down to pick up the dragon egg and smiled, "Look what I found."
Without a word, Shae excitedly stepped forward and held Daeron's face, pressing her red lips deep against his forehead.
Words could no longer express her feelings.
"A dragon egg! It's a real dragon egg!"
The two younger ones cheered, immediately huddling around their older brother and sister.
Even Viserys, who was often seen as simple-minded, clearly understood the importance of a dragon egg to the Targaryens.
Ever since the tragedy at Summerhall, the family had no more dragon eggs.
After a long while, Daeron finally broke free from the warm embrace, the lingering warmth of the girl's breath still on his cheek.
"Second Brother, we have a dragon egg."
Jaehaerys's eyes sparkled, looking just like a hatchling dragon seeing treasure.
Unexpectedly, Shae was the first to calm down. She said nervously, "Daeron, hide the dragon egg in your territory. Never let Father or anyone else know of its existence."
Daeron said seriously, "I understand."
Given Father Aerys's obsession with dragons, if he discovered the egg's existence, it would surely be taken away by force.
Outsiders went without saying.
Shae grabbed her two younger brothers, putting on a fierce expression. "You two remember, you must keep this secret."
"We promise."
"Mhm, mhm."
Jaehaerys and Viserys nodded like chickens pecking at rice.
The four siblings now shared a secret.
After instructing the two little ones, Daeron finally had time to examine the dragon egg.
It had a red shell with gold flecks and black spirals.
Judging by its appearance, it was essentially confirmed to be the one Aegon IV 'the Unworthy' had bestowed upon House Butterwell.
"So, after Bloodraven sent people to steal the dragon egg, it had been hidden among the materials from the demolition of Whitewalls all along."
Daeron speculated silently.
If that were the case, it truly was an absolutely safe place.
After all, no one would rummage through it for no reason.
"If Father had carried out his plan for the new city, would he have discovered it first?"
Daeron thought suddenly, startling himself.
Father Aerys's early administrative plans were full of impracticalities, including but not limited to:
First, attempting to conquer the Stepstones and incorporate them into the kingdom's map.
Second, the delusion of building another Wall a hundred miles beyond The Wall to expand the kingdom's territory.
Third, being fed up with the 'stench' of King's Landing and intending to build a white city made entirely of marble on Daeron's current territory.
Fourth, when the Iron Bank came to collect the loans owed by his father Jaehaerys II, Aerys declared he would build an unprecedentedly massive fleet to conquer Braavos.
Fifth, intending to carve an underground canal beneath the Red Mountains to bring water from the Rainwood into the deserts of Dorne, making them arable land.
Every single one of these plans was madness.
In the family's history, only the 'Rogue Prince' Daemon Targaryen, active around the time of the Dance of the Dragons, had briefly conquered the Stepstones.
"Father, are you truly insane?"
Daeron was slightly lost in thought.
Father Aerys was mad, but his madness had a logic to it.
Sometimes, Daeron even felt he was right.
Fearing Tywin would harm him, wanting to disinherit Rhaegar, mass-producing wildfire... while these might be cases of confusing cause and effect, they were all closely related to the future.
Suddenly, there was a soft knock on the door.
"Prince, Lord Tywin is in the Throne Room, summoning you to be questioned regarding the alleged injury of a Lannister clansman."
The muffled voice of the "White Bull," Ser Gerold, came through.
Daeron was startled, then sneered, "What must come, will come."
In front of his siblings, he put the dragon egg into his inventory.
"Magic!?" Jaehaerys was stunned.
Viserys: "Wow!"
"You stay here, or go find Mother."
Daeron instructed them, telling them not to run around.
Stepping out of the room, Ser Gerold and Ser Jon were in a standoff, the atmosphere between them tense.
"What are you doing?"
Daeron asked, knowing full well the answer.
Seeing him come out, Ser Jon's aura softened slightly as he said solemnly, "The Lord Hand sent Commander Gerold."
"Is that so?"
Daeron looked at the two-meter-tall "White Bull."
Ser Gerold looked at his Kingsguard brother in surprise, then said, "Lannister soldiers have testified against you. The King is not present, so I came ahead to inform you."
He was making his stance clear; he had rushed here to bring word so the Prince could be prepared.
"Where is my father?" Daeron asked.
"Resting in his chambers."
"Take me there."
Without further words, the three headed straight for the King's chambers.
Unexpectedly, as soon as they reached the door, they were stopped.
"Grand Maester?"
Daeron looked at the newcomer, his gaze narrowing slightly.
Pycelle put on a puzzled look and said slowly, "Prince, His Majesty is taking his afternoon nap."
Daeron spoke bluntly, "I have been accused."
He had a plan when he acted, but since his teacher Tywin was bringing the matter into the open, how could he not invite his father to preside?
"Ah?"
Pycelle was startled, his old face filling with worry. "His Majesty just finished the Small Council meeting and took some sleeping draught. He won't wake for several hours."
Daeron's words were sharp: "He didn't take medicine earlier, and he didn't take it later. Grand Maester, what a convenient coincidence."
"His Majesty needs his nap; he takes his medicine at this time every day."
Pycelle's hunched frame trembled slightly, as if under great pressure.
Daeron looked at Ser Gerold, and the honest knight nodded in confirmation.
Having cleared his suspicion, Pycelle cast a grateful look at Ser Gerold.
Daeron remained silent for a moment, then pushed past the old man Pycelle and burst through the doors of the King's chambers.
Only an idiot would believe his nonsense.
"What happened?"
Barristan was sitting in the outer hall of the chambers; hearing the commotion, he stood up to inquire.
Daeron ignored him. Seeing through the curtain that Father Aerys's chest was rising and falling slightly, he began rummaging through the cabinet where the King kept his personal items.
"Prince, what are you doing?"
Barristan guarded the King all day and was currently bewildered.
"Ser Jon, protect my father. I must trouble Ser Barristan and Ser Gerold to come with me."
When Daeron stood up again, he had an exquisite dagger in his hand.
It had a spiral handle carved from dragonbone, rough to the touch and fitting the palm's lines.
Clang!
The dagger was unsheathed, the rippling patterns on the silver-grey steel blade shimmering like waves.
A valyrian steel dagger.
Daeron glanced at it, sheathed it, and tucked it into his waist.
As the royal dragon family, the Targaryens had migrated to Dragonstone before the Doom, and at that time, the family possessed several valyrian steel heirlooms.
Following several Blackfyre Rebellions, the ancestral sword 'Blackfyre' was taken across the Narrow Sea to the Eastern Continent by Bittersteel, disappearing from then on.
The ancestral sword 'dark sister' was taken by Brynden 'Bloodraven' when he was exiled to The Wall to serve in the Nights Watch, later vanishing when its master left The Wall.
To this day, only the valyrian steel crown worn by Aegon the Conqueror and this valyrian steel dagger passed down from Aenar 'the Exile' remained.
"The family truly has fallen."
Daeron shook his head and sighed.
Having obtained the token symbolizing the King, he decisively left the chambers.
The three Kingsguard looked at each other, not knowing what to do.
"Lord Tywin is making a move; let us protect the Prince first."
Ser Gerold considered the situation thoroughly, explained the event succinctly, and called Barristan to follow.
"Hey, you all..."
Pycelle's old face turned pale and then purple as he just managed to scramble up from the floor.
"Take care of your health, Grand Maester."
Ser Jon remained expressionless, gripping his sword as he blocked the entrance to the King's chambers.