"What's wrong? You seem listless," Tyrion, in his golden and crimson brocade coat, whispered to his companion. "After all, the Red Keep is throwing a banquet for you today."
Viserys wanted to say that he had just barely managed to control the White Pig that was oinking in his head, and had learned how to "Store". He was trying to figure out how to use this new skill.
Pigs were less common than sheep on the continent of Westeros. Bacon and pork pies were the most that appeared on the daily table. There was no braised pork or barbecued ribs, and so on. The reason was that the local pork had a gamey taste. The solution to this problem was to cut off… After castration, the yield could also be increased, allowing piglets to be ready for slaughter in six months.
This knowledge was forcibly instilled. These days, as soon as he thought of the word "pig," or saw bacon on the table, it would constantly bubble up and re-emerge... How could he be in good spirits?
Of course, he was still very satisfied with the gift he received. This was the trump card of his property. He wouldn't bring up the matter of improving the breed of pigs until his brother became king, and until he had a base of his own. Therefore, he couldn't tell his companion the truth, and could only say, "I'm worried about whether that hotel outside can make money. I borrowed a hundred Gold Dragons from my brother!"
Wintan had changed his appearance and opened an inn in King's Landing Eel Alley, offering food and lodging. Viserys, according to the basic requirements of hotels in later generations, designed the operating terms for them: they must change clean bedding and sheets, they must clean daily, they must not beat or insult customers, they must provide boiled drinking water for free, and so on. Viserys had no idea how the business was going.
"Ha! Don't worry, didn't you receive quite a few gifts for your birthday this time? You can sell what you don't like for Gold Dragons," Tyrion suggested.
That's right! After all, the things lords from various places gave to the prince could not be inexpensive. He had received many gifts. His favorite, of course, was the chestnut-red pony his brother Rhaegar gave him, which came from the Dothraki Sea and would sweat red blood when it ran, how wonderful!
Viserys definitely needed to repay his brother. But Rhaegar's birthday coincided with the tragedy at Summerhall, a shadow that always clung to the Crown Prince, so he never celebrated.
It's not my brother's fault. Someday, I'll give him the best thing. The little prince thought about the dynasty, about Aegon the Conqueror's Valyrian Steel Sword... Unfortunately, it seems I can only try my luck in the next dream.
Viserys held his cheek, sitting on the throne. He didn't want to talk to anyone except Tyrion. Jaime had taken Tyrion away, and this banquet was really boring — until Rhaegar appeared, holding an ancient silver-stringed harp. Viserys' spirits immediately lifted.
"Ah! Brother!" he exclaimed joyfully.
Last night, his brother had taken him to sit under the heart tree in the silent Godswood and played this very harp. His brother sang epic narratives, tales of the Heroic Age, recounting the legendary heroes of the First Men and the Children of the Forest. When his magnetic voice finished singing, Viserys, whose head was resting on his brother's lap, felt his heart bloom like the Flameberries entwining the tree, bursting forth in fiery red blossoms.
"We are also in history, brother. You will become the greatest king, and countless people in the future will sing songs about you," the little prince said with certainty, twirling a strand of silver hair around his finger, looking up at Rhaegar's eyes, which shone like stars. He was also certain about his future career plan: he didn't want to be separated from his brother, so he would strive to become the Hand of the King or a member of the Kingsguard!
— Whether Viserys became either of those is another story. It is normal for things in the world to be difficult to achieve, and the threads of fate mercilessly intertwine and tighten, showing no mercy whether you are a prince or a king.
On this summer night of the year 277 AC, the Red Keep's banquet hall was made even more resplendent by the Crown Prince's arrival. Cersei had dressed up carefully today, but she had to admit that there was a kind of brilliance that had nothing to do with gender or relying on jewels and fine clothes. The Targaryens were inherently beautiful, not like mortals, and Rhaegar was the best of them, elegant and pleasing in every move.
She watched with fascination as the prince sat in the center of the hall, plucking at the silver strings.
The prince sang tonight of the Grey King's legend, defeating the Naga and winning his beloved mermaid. Cersei listened, enraptured, wishing she were the deeply loved mermaid.
The ruler of the sea would play for her, and they would remain together in the coral sea, oh! This was the Grey King of the past, and also Rhaegar, the future King of the Seven Kingdoms, who would also treat his beloved tenderly.
And Rhaegar's old friend, Jon, was also one of those who felt countless emotions from the performance. He realized, at some point, the silver prince's music had changed. He no longer played the melancholic melodies that made people weep, the tone became richer, not only praising the ancient heroes, but also singing of beautiful love!
Had he gained insight from the heroic legends he had recently reread?
Jon knew all too well what it meant to love without being able to speak of it. He only hoped that his silver prince could taste the most passionate and sincere flavor of love.
The song ended.
"The Crown Prince is truly outstanding." Tyrion clapped with Cersei and Jaime. He turned to look at his companion – the radiance on Viserys's face nearly startled him. Where was the listless look from before?
After Rhaegar bowed, he returned to the throne beside his younger brother. He smiled at Viserys, whose eyes were curved in a crescent, praising his singing as being like a nightingale in a fairy tale.
Rhaegar hadn't read the book, but he still felt a sweet joy. He had been calm and restrained since childhood, but recently, he was not. He indulged in a growing fondness: he loved to see his brother's smiling face, trusting and praising him.
The Crown Prince picked up a plate of bright red strawberries on the table and fed them to Viserys one by one. He wondered what Viserys would give back to him? Grapes? Purple or green?
Music started again, and the dance began. Cersei took a deep breath, intending to complete one of her father's instructions for the night: to invite the prince to dance.
She walked gracefully to the front and bowed elegantly: "Your Grace, Prince Rhaegar, may I have this waltz?"
Viserys, next to Rhaegar, had already started clapping excitedly: "Yes! I want to see my brother dance!"
Rhaegar swallowed a grape, pinched the instigator's cheek, stood up, and elegantly took Cersei's wrist—in fact, the Crown Prince, who was proficient in knightly skills, was not only talented in singing and playing the lute. He was also good at dancing, but he had been depressed before and rarely participated.
He led Cersei in a three-beat court dance. Solemn, gorgeous, the male and female dance, which Viserys thought was similar to a walk, was extremely pleasing to the eye because of the handsome men and beautiful women: Cersei's light green brocade silk gown complemented her golden hair and blue eyes, making the colors even brighter. Because it was summer, she abandoned her emerald jewelry and wore a set of headwear and necklaces woven with small pearls and olivine, which highlighted her youthful feel. Dancing with his handsome and handsome, silver-haired brother was especially harmonious.
If it weren't for the high risk of cuckolding and the fact that his brother already had a destined love, Viserys wouldn't object to Cersei, who was essentially a lookist, marrying his brother.
Based on her actions in the original story, where she immediately gave important positions to someone who looked like his brother, and as a wife, she schemed to kill Robert Baratheon, the murderer of his brother, leaving him with only bastards and deceiving him until his death, Viserys was very happy for his brother Rhaegar to give this young girl some exquisite memories.
Cersei was indeed deeply intoxicated. Crown Prince Rhaegar was gentle and courteous, his fingers lightly touching her skin, as if sweet honey was seeping in – he was much taller than her, but it was perfect for his wife to lean against her husband's chest. He had exquisite taste, never roared, and both joy and melancholy were faintly hidden in those deep purple eyes – Cersei would give everything to exchange for the Crown Prince only looking at her for the rest of his life.
The music ended, Rhaegar elegantly saluted her and walked away. Cersei was still unable to recover from the dizziness. The strong woman gasped slightly and was not surprised to be surrounded by knights and lords who were courting her, all of whom wanted to invite her to dance the next dance.
Cersei didn't want to. She had just danced with the Crown Prince, how could she stand these ugly and vulgar things? She found an excuse to get rid of them and looked for Rhaegar – seeing him standing outside the corridor, talking to the red-haired Jon, while also paying attention to his brother on the high throne in the banquet hall.
How much he doted on Viserys was known to everyone.
Oh! Cersei remembered her father's instructions, that she should also try to get close to the little prince. It just so happened that she was also happy to let Rhaegar see that she loved what he loved, so she turned and walked towards the little prince.
Tyrion, her dwarf brother, was chatting with the little prince. Cersei lifted her skirt to cover this dwarf who ruined her beautiful bloodline and curtsied to the little prince.
"Hello, Prince Viserys."
Here it comes! Viserys thought to himself, so Tywin wants to see my reaction, huh? Surprise!
"Miss Cersei, you truly are the most beautiful lady in the Seven Kingdoms! Even more beautiful than any lady I've ever met!" He complimented her sincerely.
What a darling! Cersei thought. She then took the opportunity to ask, "Your Grace, do you wish to see me in the Red Keep forever?"
This was the most subtle way to suggest marriage into the royal family.
The young prince blinked, "Of course, and, if you were in King's Landing, I'd want to build you a golden house to live in! It's just a pity I don't have that many Gold Dragons." His voice was clear and loud, as if he wanted everyone to hear.
This was exactly what Cersei wanted! She laughed, saying it was no pity and planned to tell her father. Casterly Rock had plenty of gold, so why couldn't they build her a golden house in King's Landing?
The young prince's idea of building a golden house for Cersei caused a small sensation at the ball.
Cersei watched Rhaegar stride towards them, drawn back by her! She loved getting close to his younger brother too. This should make the Crown Prince realize she'd be a good sister-in-law to the little prince, right?
Rhaegar, while steadying his brother's arm, spoke to her first, "My apologies, Miss Cersei. My brother... he's still young."
Cersei tilted her head, her green eyes full of affection. "The little prince is adorable, Your Grace."
That night, in one of the bedrooms in Maegor's Holdfast, Tyrion solemnly looked up at his companion, "My sister Cersei isn't right for you, Viserys. For your own good, really, take my advice. Don't marry her."
Viserys readily agreed, "Alright! I didn't plan to get married anyway!"
Tyrion was skeptical. "That's impossible."
"I've thought it through. I don't want a Summerhall fiefdom. I want to be like Ser Duncan the Tall, staying by the king's side—of course, the future king. My brother Rhaegar. I want to be inseparable from him. If he thinks I'm capable, getting me onto the Small Council or as Hand of the King would be great!"
The well-read Tyrion of course knew of the famous Ser Duncan the Tall from the White Book, but he just had a feeling this path wasn't right for Viserys. After thinking for a moment, he advised, "Prince Aemon chose to become a Kingsguard and protect the king and his wife because he was forced to marry his beloved sister to King Aegon. But, thinking about it carefully, I think he lived a miserable life."
"You know, the Kingsguard are supposed to stand outside the king's chambers. What would he hear? Aegon is a king with hundreds of mistresses! His most cherished love is possessed by such a man! It must be heartbreaking, agonizing."
Viserys' smile froze. He thought about having to stand guard outside Rhaegar's chambers... After a long moment, he grimaced and stammered, "That, that sounds like self-torture—"
At this moment, Crown Prince Rhaegar, having followed Viserys' suggestions, had finished washing and grooming. He'd changed into a soft linen shirt and was preparing for bed.
He looked towards the tower across from him, where his younger brother's chambers were. The summer wind blew in from the window, carrying the scent of dragon's tail grass and berries from the Godswood.
Tonight would likely bring another beautiful dream.
Rhaegar was happy to relive that wedding in his dreams, time and again experiencing the groom's ecstatic joy. He already knew very well that it wasn't actually the wedding of King Jaehaerys and his sister, Queen Alysanne.