Varys was the renowned spymaster King Aerys had brought over from across the Narrow Sea. Though many in the court looked askance at the plump, effeminate man with his garish silks and heavy makeup, the king stubbornly granted the former slave the position of Master of Whisperers. He was Aerys's crystal ball, peering into every nook and cranny of King's Landing and reporting back to the ever-suspicious monarch. Varys, in turn, was diligent, always ensuring the highborn were satisfied.
The room in Maegor's Holdfast was dim. Only the Golden Dragon Crown perched atop the king's head and the silver of his hair gleamed with a cold, spectral light. Varys's silken shoes made no sound as they trod across the carpet. He bent low, respectfully approaching, and whispered in the king's ear, detailing everything that had happened at the afternoon's tourney, even down to the young prince's every word.
"Is that so? That Dornish woman is incapable of bearing children?"
Varys replied, having consulted the royal maesters. He reported that, judging by her physique, she would indeed have difficulty conceiving, and even if she did manage to give birth, she would be bedridden for a year.
"Then she is even worse than the Queen I wrongly married," the Mad King grumbled, idly fingering the hilt of his sword. In his view, a woman's inability to bear children, stillbirths, or the early death of a child were all the woman's fault.
"This…" Varys cautiously replied, "The blood of the dragon is still different. A true dragon is, after all, a true dragon. Prince Viserys is very healthy, and, brave."
These words pleased Aerys. The fact that his young son was loud and full of energy was undeniable, and more importantly, Viserys was still young. Before he was old enough to understand what a monarch's power meant, the Mad King did not have to consider him a threat to the throne. And his birth and survival gave Aerys a good pawn to use against his eldest son's influence.
"Is my eldest son, Rhaegar, being malicious towards my youngest son, the second in line? He wouldn't even give him a mere garland, let alone this," Aerys gestured to the Golden Dragon Crown on his head. "He won't give him any chance to compete. Heh, that's the allure of power; everyone is like this."
Varys knew precisely how to avoid provoking the Mad King. "No one would dare disobey your command, Your Grace."
The Mad King gave a nervous laugh. "Yes, I am the King. They cannot disobey. I say who is the Prince of Dragonstone, and so it shall be."
This was a direct challenge to the eldest son's inheritance, and the Mad King's arrogance wasn't new. Many people blamed those he favored, such as the spymaster Varys. But Varys understood that even without him, someone else would be whispering into Aerys's ear. It was better to be the one doing it, at least then he could ensure the information was accurate, while also concealing his own intentions.
He already possessed enough wealth, a sprawling network of informants, and a king who trusted almost everything he said.
Varys continued the topic of the succession that the Mad King had started. "Once the Crown Prince is wed, he must be named Prince of Dragonstone and move to his fiefdom. Perhaps you..."
Aerys waved a hand, and Varys wisely fell silent, but he saw the king's purple eyes tremble, revealing a malicious glint... Could it be...?
No. He knew the man sitting before him, wearing the heavy crown, was extremely proud of his heritage as a true dragon's descendant. He believed the Targaryens were either gods or demigods, superior to all other families on the continent. He wouldn't want Rhaegar, who truly inherited the pure blood of the Targaryen family, to marry a woman who might hinder his line.
The Mad King tilted his head. "The Dornish feel humiliated, and the King should make a gesture. But, the True Dragon cannot be wrong. Perhaps the Hand of the King can make amends. Tywin Lannister has brought his children to King's Landing, hehehehe, perfect."
It seemed the King intended to marry Elia to a Lannister as "compensation." A marriage between Dorne and the Westerlands… Varys didn't think it was a good thing for the stability of the dynasty.
The Mad King, however, seemed to not care about the hidden dangers, chuckling coldly to himself, his eyes rolling. He told the outsider of this continent, "I know Tywin Lannister best. Just wait and see the show. Watch Tywin Lannister's moves; whether they marry or not, Dorne and Casterly Rock will become enemies."
He was arrogant and confident. During the War of the Ninepenny Kings, he was also so confident, strategizing as the Prince of Dragonstone, cooperating closely with Tywin and forging friendship.
But trust was such a fragile thing. More than a decade had passed, and everything had changed beyond recognition. At this moment, in the King's dark purple eyes, there was indeed a glimmer of the light that Tywin had admired in his younger days. But now, Aerys's careful calculations were all used to strike at him and the Golden Lion family.
The days grew shorter. The court attendants lit candles made of beeswax or whale oil, and polished silver mirrors were inlaid on the walls behind the candlesticks, illuminating the dimly lit corridors. The wall mirrors also faintly reflected the shadows of the people passing by, although they were just indistinct silver blobs----
Crown Prince Rhaegar's long hair shone like molten silver, held in place by a dragon bone clip. His hair hung down on his strong shoulders, which had already been relieved of their armor. Now, the knight's body was wrapped in a purple velvet robe, and his eyes were therefore even darker and more melancholic----The Crown Prince stopped, gazing at a snowflake falling outside the castle window.
Winter came earlier this year. Fleabottom----
Rhaegar was full of worry, lost in thought, but at this moment, the sound of hurried footsteps came from the corner, making quite a commotion. Then, Viserys appeared, his eyes lighting up when he saw him, and he rushed over----of course, towards Rhaegar's long legs, trying to hug them.
The attendants on either side tried to stop the little prince, seeing that he was about to start screaming again—
Rhaegar bent down, patiently prying his brother's grip loose, then scooped him up in his arms. A pair of small hands, smelling of honey, immediately latched onto his neck.
Viserys nestled his face against Rhaegar's chest, "Don't be angry with me, brother."
Rhaegar was taken aback, then realized Viserys had misunderstood.
"I'm not," he reassured him. "But, if you put yourself in danger again, I will be angry."
"Mmhmm." Viserys nodded repeatedly. "I understand. If I get hurt, it will involve many people, and that's not good. Right?"
Rhaegar was pleased by his brother's intelligence. Viserys, with his violet eyes, asked, "Then, brother, if I'm with you, will I definitely be safe? You are the best knight in the kingdom!"
"Of course, I will protect you, Viserys."
"You won't leave me, will you, brother?"
"Of course not," Rhaegar promised steadily.
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Actually, Viserys wanted to go with Rhaegar ever since he heard that Rhaegar always went to Fleabottom outside the palace to play a wandering singer in disguise. He was preparing to get the information he needed for this purpose; after all, a knight's promise was very reliable.
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The brothers came to the banquet in the Queen's Ballroom together. The nobles saluted the two princes, and at the head of the table, a man wearing a Golden Dragon Crown was already firmly seated. Viserys composed himself, inwardly unwilling, but also behaved obediently and saluted his father, sitting on a small throne on his side.
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Hmm? Where was Rhaegar's seat?
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As if Rhaegar hadn't noticed the king hadn't set up his throne, he bowed and calmly walked towards the silver-stringed harp placed on the side of the hall. In this era, knights' essential skills included music, and Rhaegar was one of the best.
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Watched by Viserys with surprise, the silver-haired Crown Prince plucked the strings, and the moonlight seemed to flow coldly. Under the pure silver notes, he sang a melancholic narrative poem.
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"My dearest King, benevolent and noble King, what future will the dawn bring into my prison? Is it my heart that has betrayed me? Because you have judged me too quickly, I must fall, I must fall."
Viserys was startled! Judging by the lyrics, this was a queen singing to her king while imprisoned. Rhaegar was performing for his father, Aerys, in public, likely to make a request!
Until now, Viserys realized he hadn't even seen his mother, Queen Rhaella...
He glanced at the Mad King. Aerys' expression was unfriendly, and the fingers of the hand wearing a large ruby ring were tapping on the armrest of the Iron Throne. The rhythm was certainly not in time with Rhaegar's music, but rather emphasized his impatience!
Viserys sensed that the man called king was about to explode. He racked his brains, trying to figure out how to stop it—so, he was completely unable to immerse himself in his brother's music.
However, many people in the banquet hall, including Cersei, were wiping away tears.
Cersei was watching Rhaegar, who was right in front of her, the god of her heart. She was captivated by his melancholy purple eyes. He has pain in his heart, Cersei thought. It doesn't matter, after they get married, she would love him and heal him.
After finishing the performance, Rhaegar bowed slowly, "Father."
Aerys looked at his eldest son coldly, "Put away your pleas. The Queen must stay in the Maidenvault and pray for God to forgive her sins. This is the King's command!"
Seeing his brother's request denied, the Mad King showed no sign of a father's compassion. Viserys, still unclear about the Queen's situation, couldn't help but start planning a rebellion—against the Mad King. But he was too young, not even a knight, and without any land. Whether Aerys's reign would even last until he was knighted was up for debate. Could he, perhaps, help his brother ascend the throne sooner?
Lost in thought, he didn't miss his brother Rhaegar's expression. Though surrounded by people, Rhaegar appeared troubled and melancholy.
Looking at the Mad King, he saw that Aerys gave no further glance to his eldest son, instead narrowing his eyes and turning toward the opulent and eye-catching head of the Lannister family in the hall.
The King spoke, "Since my eldest son, Rhaegar, has reached the age of seventeen. He should fulfill the Targaryen family's duty to produce heirs. My loyal ministers, and the Hand of the King, what proposals do you have?"
This was bad! Viserys saw Tywin preparing to speak! No! The King would never agree to Cersei and Rhaegar's marriage! He was just trying to humiliate Tywin and the Lannister family in public again! And, by extension, force Rhaegar to obey!
No matter!
Before the Hand of the King could speak, Viserys jumped up from his seat, giggling and clapping. "Great! I want to marry my brother!!"