Early Morning, the Next Day
A bedroom in the tower.
Rhaegar sat by the bedside, keeping watch over his unconscious father.
"Huff... huff..."
Viserys' brows were tightly furrowed, his dry lips slightly parted as he let out a strained, rasping sound.
Rhaegar tensed up and immediately got up to check on him.
Creak—
The door opened from the outside, and Helena stepped in quietly.
She wore a green gown, her silver-gold hair cascading over her shoulders, clearly left unkempt in her haste.
Glancing at the bed, she whispered, "How is he? Has Father woken up yet?"
Rhaegar shook his head and carefully fed their father a small sip of water.
Viserys instinctively swallowed, moistening his parched throat, and his breathing eased slightly.
Helena lowered her head and turned to gaze at the sheer-curtained window.
Beyond it…
The city of Yronwood lay in ruins, reduced to scorched earth, with crumbling walls and broken limbs strewn about.
Helena's gaze swept across the scene before settling on the base of the wall beneath the window.
There, curled up against the stone, was Aemond. Asleep, pressed tightly against the cold surface, mumbling incoherently in his dreams.
The previous night had been harrowing.
Aemond had lost an eye. The physical and emotional toll had been overwhelming, and he had insisted on staying in the same room as his father and elder brother.
"Mmm..."
A chilly breeze drifted in from outside, making Aemond wince as he opened his eye.
He instinctively looked toward the bed first.
With his only remaining eye.
Rhaegar also turned to glance at him while gently wiping their father's mouth.
Aemond let out a breath of relief, covering his stitched-up left eye as he struggled to sit up.
"Careful."
Helena's voice was gentle as she stepped forward to support him.
Aemond pouted, his lip trembling as he fought back tears. "Sister…"
His elder brother had treated him the previous night.
His left eye was completely destroyed—there was no chance of recovery. The only option had been to remove it and stitch up the wound.
He had lost the eye forever.
"Shh." Helena's eyes were full of tenderness as she knelt on the floor, pulling Aemond into a hug. Her voice was soft. "Don't cry. You're a strong little warrior now."
Aemond sniffled, swallowing back the tears.
He didn't want his sister to think he was weak.
Helena gently stroked his head, pressing her cheek against him, her heart aching for him.
Rhaegar watched in silence, then smiled. "Aemond was very brave. Even though he lost an eye, he saved Father and himself."
"I know."
Helena looked at him absentmindedly. "He always had that obsession. Maybe now he'll finally let go."
Aemond didn't understand what she meant, but fearing his brother would mock him, he wriggled free from Helena's embrace.
Creak—
The door opened again, revealing three figures standing at the threshold.
Ser Criston Cole, looking solemn, stood upright as ever.
The Cargyll brothers had both been gravely wounded the night before—one had been ambushed in the great hall, the other in the courtyard.
Criston, the more skilled fighter, had suffered only minor injuries and had taken over the responsibility of guarding the King.
"His Majesty is still unconscious. Please be mindful," Criston said in a low voice.
Rhaenys nodded and stepped inside first.
Daemon cast her a sideways glance, smirking. "Keep up the good work, former Lord Commander of the Kingsguard."
With that, he followed his cousin in.
Upon seeing them, Rhaegar managed a faint smile and greeted them naturally.
The two had arrived the previous night.
Like him, they had arrived just in time to witness Yronwood's rebellion and had helped fend off the surprise attack by the Dornish forces.
Without them, he wouldn't have been able to break away, and Helena wouldn't have been able to handle everything alone.
Daemon appeared nonchalant, tilting his head to glance at the bed. "How's my brother?"
His tone suggested something was bothering him.
Rhaegar shook his head. "Not great. I suspect he was too severely shaken—he refuses to wake up."
"All the maesters are dead?"
Daemon scanned the room, his irritation flaring.
He couldn't understand it—his usually timid brother had suddenly taken up arms and led a dragon into battle, only to end up like this.
"The only one we had was killed," Helena replied calmly in her brother's stead.
Daemon had no interest in talking to a young girl. Instead, he sized up Aemond, lingering on his empty eye socket before remarking, "Losing an eye might just help you see the world more clearly."
Aemond stiffened, his remaining eye staring at his uncle, the meaning behind the words unclear.
"Enough. Stop making things so tense the moment you walk in."
Rhaenys frowned, breaking up the tense exchange.
Daemon glanced up at the ceiling, feigning interest in the architecture.
Rhaegar wasn't in the mood to argue. He simply reached out to comfort his younger siblings.
He knew exactly what kind of person Good Uncle Daemon was.
What kind of uncle would take advantage of the chaos to try and knock his six-year-old nephew off a dragon's back?
Rhaegar shook his head with a faint smile, but his eyes gleamed coldly.
As long as their father lived, Daemon would remain a good uncle, protected at all times.
But if anything were to happen to their father this time…
"No one will get away with this!"
Rhaenys walked to the bedside and looked at her wan, listless cousin. She sighed and said, "Without a maester's diagnosis, Viserys will be in serious trouble. It's time to escort him back to King's Landing."
"I was thinking the same thing," Rhaegar agreed. "Father isn't in good shape, and staying in Dorne won't help him recover."
The news of Qoren's death would soon spread across all of Westeros.
Next would come Dorne's desperate counterattack.
Thinking of this, Rhaegar's expression turned cold.
Holding his father's hand, he asked, "How many prisoners were captured last night? How many members of House Uller?"
House Uller had provoked him and deserved nothing less than death.
Even worse, they had conspired with House Yronwood in a plot that nearly assassinated his father.
Such hatred could never go unanswered.
Rhaenys furrowed her brows slightly and answered truthfully, "More than 500 people in total. Among them, over a dozen from House Uller, including the mastermind Harmen Uller, his five legitimate sons, and seven bastards."
Upon hearing this, Rhaegar sneered and drew a silver-white dagger from his belt. "Filth like them breed well, don't they?"
He tossed the dagger to Aemond and ordered, "Leave Harmen Uller to me. Use this dagger to deal with the rest, one by one."
Aemond, bewildered but obedient, picked up the dagger.
It felt smooth and warm, like polished jade, as he gripped it.
Studying it carefully, he noted its design:
The blade was about a foot long, silver-white, and incredibly lightweight. The hilt was intricately carved with fine dragon scales, which felt smoother than even a lamb stealer's cloak.
The blade had a crescent shape with blood grooves on both sides and a rippling surface.
"Valyrian steel?" Aemond asked in surprise.
"That's right," Rhaegar replied nonchalantly. "I'm giving it to you as a weapon for self-defense."
"Seriously?" Aemond beamed. "Does it have a name?"
"No, you'll have to come up with one yourself."
Rhaegar shook his head, his gaze stern. "Use it for revenge. Kill the scum of House Uller!"
This was no ordinary dagger—it was a relic activated by the Explorer system.
The system panel recorded:
[Miraxys' Scale]
- Exploration Progress: 100%
- The discovered relic was a dragon tooth, tainted with foul blood.
[Fallen Dragon]
- Quality: Rare (Blue)
- Relics below the epic level can be directly activated, so...
_"Congratulations! The Fallen Dragon has been successfully activated. You've obtained..."_
[Grudge]
- Quality: Rare (Blue)
- Function: Crafted from Valyrian steel
- Evaluation: "Imbued with the resentment of a dragon. Fulfilling lingering grudges will grant the wielder a dragon's blessing."
Rhaegar tried to investigate the effects of the dragon's blessing but found nothing definitive.
After thinking it over, he decided he didn't want to dirty his hands with the blood of House Uller. Killing Harmen himself would be enough.
By giving Aemond the dagger, he hoped that if there really were any blessings from ancestors, it would serve as compensation for Aemond losing an eye while protecting his father.
Delighted to receive the dagger, Aemond examined it repeatedly, clearly enamored.
Valyrian steel!
Ten years ago, House Targaryen only had three such weapons:
The ancestral sword Blackfyre, its sister blade Dark Sister, and the dragonhorn dagger carried by their father.
Even now, only Rhaegar had both a sword and a spear, while each of their two sisters possessed a single sword.
Aemond chuckled gleefully, already imagining how he would show it off to Aegon.
"All right, I'll be back soon."
Remembering his brother's orders, Aemond's eyes hardened as he stormed out of the room with a fierce determination.
Having lost one eye, someone would have to pay the price.
An eye for an eye. Blood for blood.
After Aemond left, the atmosphere in the bedroom subtly shifted.
Daemon withdrew his gaze and eyed the sword Dark Sister hanging at Rhaenys' waist. He clicked his tongue silently.
That sword had once belonged to him.
It was a gift personally bestowed by their grandfather Jaehaerys.
"I should make time to scour the Free Cities—it's about time I found a weapon worthy of my status," Daemon thought to himself.
Rhaenys, unfazed by Daemon, spoke to her nephew. "After you escort your father back to King's Landing, how do you plan to deal with Dorne?"
The fall of Sunspear and the death of Prince Qoren wouldn't easily force Dorne into submission.
Rhaegar met his aunt's gaze and suddenly said, "I deeply regret the death of Laenor."
Rhaenys clenched her fists tightly, grief and fury welling up within her.
Dorne!!
Upon hearing the name, Daemon gathered his thoughts and examined his nephew with great interest.
The reason he had come to Dorne in the first place was that he didn't want to be bored alone across the Narrow Sea.
Following his cousin to Dorne to take part in the conflict seemed far more intriguing.
Of course, he had absolutely no intention of making any great military achievements—certainly not to make up for his unauthorized conquest of Tyrosh in front of his brother.
"Heh."
Daemon chuckled, curious to see what his nephew would say next.
Rhaegar ignored him, his eyes fixed on the view outside the window. With a blank expression, he said, "Father was nearly assassinated. It's only because the Targaryens weren't ruthless enough that the Dornish nobility dared to rebel."
After all, during the First Dornish War, many Dornish lords had been forced into submission.
Even those who remained defiant had secretly colluded with the common folk to hinder the Iron Throne.
Rhaenys' heart tightened, and she hesitated before asking, "What do you plan to do?"
"What else can I do?"
Rhaegar countered, as if asking himself the same question. Then, he lowered his head and let out a faint chuckle.
Rhaenys, Daemon, and Helaena all noticed something off about his demeanor and grew serious.
Rhaegar's smile vanished in an instant. He turned his gaze from the window to the three people in the room and spoke slowly and deliberately:
"I will bring back…the Fury of the Dragon!"
(End of Chapter)