Prince Rhaegar left Viserys's residence late. He looked tired after his long talk with his brother, but his purple eyes sparkled with a bright fire, indicating his excitement.
Jon Connington followed behind him. Their shadows were blurred in the silver mirror embedded in the wall. The red-haired Count silently watched the tall figure in front of him, and then looked at the mirror, as if Rhaegar's silver hair and his own sudden dark red hair were one. He wished this road could be a little longer.
Rhaegar stopped at the window. He looked out. The Red Keep, which stood high on the hillside, had an excellent view. But it was late at night, and King's Landing was pitch black. Even the candles constantly lit in the Great Sept were swallowed up, let alone the poor Fleabottom?
The Prince turned to his friend and said, "Starting tomorrow, I will dispatch people to the Brown Stew Shop in Fleabottom. According to Viserys's suggestion, the price for a bowl of hot soup will be to tell their story, and why they ended up there. Write down what they say, and have the young scholars record it."
"Will there be cunning people who fabricate stories to get food?"
Rhaegar's eyes were filled with compassion. He said calmly, "The stories woven by those who are so hungry that they desperately need a bowl of soup will only be the experiences they have heard. They belong to the poor who cannot speak, and who have died in the long or short winters... I don't think this is a crime."
Jon Connington bowed his head. His silver prince looked at the winter night sky, his voice low, "Collect all the corpses in Baelor's Sept Square, and cremate them."
"Yes. Do you also plan to investigate who got Prince Viserys's gold button?"
The prince turned stern. "The oath sworn by a knight is to be just and humble, not to be greedy or harm women and children. That man, I will have his sword belt cut and his title revoked in public."
Jon Connington smiled faintly. "Once we find out who it is, I will invite him to the next tourney."
The two men understood each other. After making the arrangements, Rhaegar rubbed his forehead.
"You should rest early," Jon Connington said with concern.
"Thank you." Rhaegar looked at the tower where his brother was, his gaze softening. "Viserys's words today reminded me of what my ancestor, King Jaehaerys, said to his queen, Alysanne: 'Do not disregard the suffering of the people.'"
"You have not," Jon Connington replied. "Therefore, you are naturally loved by more people. The hearts of the people of King's Landing are yours. Your good name has spread throughout the Seven Kingdoms."
Rhaegar, however, was not thinking about his reputation. He looked up, frowning, as if he had a new worry. Jon Connington speculated on the Crown Prince's thoughts. The silver prince continued softly, his voice fading like smoke: "But the maesters are propagating the idea that King Jaehaerys abolished the right of the first night... to please his fiery queen, his sister..."
...Jon Connington felt that something was amiss. For the first time, he couldn't understand the prince's intentions. He watched Rhaegar's expression become increasingly despondent, his brow furrowed—while being thoughtful was his norm, Rhaegar rarely displayed the sense of helplessness and despondency he was showing now.
"What are you still worried about? About Her Majesty the Queen…"
It wasn't that. Rhaegar quickly responded, "Viserys's method is worth a try. I will help Mother continue to receive the prescribed pills. Jon, I even find a certain satisfaction in doing so."
The two princes conspired together. Since it had already been proven that their mother's fertility was not the problem, the next step was to make King Aerys realize that Queen Rhaella was not happy, and therefore unable to conceive. If he wanted an heir, he would have to respect, cherish, and please his wife. Rhaegar was bound by his status, and the most tormenting problem for him was developing in a positive direction.
"Prince Viserys is far more intelligent than his peers," Jon said to the silver prince. "Just like you were when you were young, you learned to read and write far earlier than other children. He is worthy of being your brother, a brother blessed by the gods."
Rhaegar gave a short laugh, a fleeting flash of satisfaction and pride in his eyes, as melancholy began to sculpt his heart. He thought again of the most famous and praised couple in the Targaryen royal family: the Good King and the Queen, Jaehaerys and Alysanne, brother and sister. They were in love, they supported each other, they were faithful to each other for a lifetime, and they grew old together.
Rhaegar had not originally intended to imagine what his own marriage would be like. He had long known that his father would exploit the value of this marriage, abusing everyone he wanted to abuse, including Tywin, and himself—it was Viserys who publicly clamored to marry him, disrupting the king's plans. It was also Viserys who firmly told him that he would marry the person he loved.
He saw enough, clearly.
That night, in the Crown Prince's residence in Maegor's Holdfast, Rhaegar lay on a warm velvet bed, half-asleep, his consciousness wandering in a confused dream until he saw a wedding: a silver-haired Targaryen prince wearing a crown of seven gem-studded gold rings, draped in a deep purple groom's cloak decorated with golden dragons. He stood before the statue in the Baelor's Sept, the Archbishop's gold-threaded crystal crown emitting colorful iridescence, and he smiled, looking at the bride beside him.
The bride wore a cloak, a Targaryen herself, slender and tall with a long neck. A delicate crown adorned her silver hair, and though a purple cloak concealed her face, what did it matter?
Rhaegar felt an addictive swelling in his chest, sweet and mellow. He seemed to be the groom, and the groom was overjoyed, knowing he had married the love of his life, someone who shared his interests, was as skilled with a bow as he was, and loved to soar—
The newly married couple made their vows before the Seven, received seven blessings, and exchanged seven promises.
He wanted to draw his wife closer, to rewrap her cloak, to tie a knot under her delicate chin, a symbol of eternal protection for his beloved.
He lifted the bride's cloak.
Rhaegar opened his eyes. His deep purple pupils gazed at the bed curtains, aware of the present moment.
He had probably dreamt of King Jaehaerys the Wise and Queen Alysanne's wedding. He thought. Brother and sister. He saw it clearly enough, clearly.
The Crown Prince sat up slowly, looking out the window. His silver hair flowed like cold moonlight, and his expression returned to its usual coldness. He remained silent for a long while.
This was a short winter on the continent of Westeros. Before the sowing season hurried in, Rhaegar delivered the completed parchment book, a survey of the Fleabottom's homeless, to Maegor's Holdfast.
This was also the first census ever created.
Rhaegar hadn't eaten yet, so he simply handed the book to a nearby page to read aloud.
"Little Leper. Deceased. Unable to state his true name due to mental instability. Boasted of being a puppeteer and performer who traveled between towns in various countries, but disbanded when the troupe reached a certain place in the North. He remained silent about what happened, only saying that all his friends and relatives were dead. He wandered the North, following a girl who had gone south to King's Landing. The two had lived together in Fleabottom, but later the girl was taken away by some important person and never returned. He spent all day wandering near the Fisherman's Square, and enjoyed peeling, scaling, and gutting large fish to eat raw. He choked to death on a fish bone three days ago."
Hearing this, Rhaegar lost his appetite. He put down the lemon cake, his face frozen.
"Skinny Billy. Claimed to be the son of a hotel owner. But because of a duel between two knights, their hospitality was poor, causing the shop to be destroyed. His father fled with him overnight outside the city. In the process, they encountered bandits in the forest. Because there were no knights to protect them, his father and the others were killed, and Billy escaped, returning to his original home in Fleabottom."
The Silver Prince frowned.
The pageboy continued reading:
"Fleabottom's Valen. He was given this name because he always took off his clothes and shook the fleas off himself. His real name is unknown. He claims to be from the Riverlands, his father was once a grain merchant. During the Long Summer, while transporting grain through the Red Fork, the river overflowed and the ship capsized. He drifted alone to Riverrun, where he served as a page for the kind knight Bonifer Hasty, and followed him to King's Landing. However, the knight was later struck by a blow, threw his spear at the Sept, and dismissed his few servants. Valen spent his last silver coin in a King's Landing tavern, and has been stranded in Fleabottom ever since."
Jon noticed that when the Crown Prince heard the name Bonifer Hasty, he placed his fingers on the golden goblet with grape patterns. Of course, he was always a man of great restraint, only drinking lightly before bed and at banquets. The Crown Prince clutched the golden goblet tightly, a melancholy look appearing in his eyes.
What's wrong? Jon had a slight impression of this knight, he thought, realizing----old affairs of King's Landing. The Crown Prince's mother, Queen Rhaella, had fallen in love with a lowborn knight when she was a princess. Later, for the witch's prophecy, the legendary prince had to be born from the offspring of a brother-sister union, and Rhaella married the king. That heartbroken knight was...
He couldn't comfort Crown Prince Rhaegar, only watched him in silence, not breaking the silence.
Until----
"Brother!!" A loud shout came from outside the door. It was Viserys. He entered directly without announcing himself and brought with him a burst of vitality and the aroma of food.
Rhaegar immediately stood up and walked towards him, lifting him up in one motion.
"I finally did it, brother!" the little prince chirped, chattering like a happy sparrow. "I found pepper and salt to grind into a powder, sliced the venison and onions, and then roasted them with honey! It tastes pretty good, brother! And I made lemon honey water, do you want to try some? Lord Jon, too!!"
He clapped his hands, and the attendant who followed him brought a tray covered with a silver lid, placing it on Rhaegar's table as if presenting a treasure. There were also some strange utensils: silver forks shaped like the three-pronged forks knights carried, but only as long as a hand.
"We can use these to pick up the food," the little prince explained. "Better than using your hands or a spoon, right?"
Rhaegar held his younger brother on his lap and followed the little prince's instructions, squeezing a few drops of lemon juice onto the roast and using a silver fork to take a piece, putting it into his mouth.
"Is it delicious?" the little prince asked expectantly.
Rhaegar smiled. "I could eat a whole leg of venison. If the kitchen could make it like this."
As he ate the truly delicious roast venison, Jon thought, the Crown Prince was a dutiful older brother who loved his younger sibling. However... the little prince would eventually grow up, and he was extremely clever. Would he always be content to sit beside his brother in that position?
Rhaegar had already realized how perfect it would be if Viserys were a princess…
Looking up at the tag, No CP.
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(End of Chapter)