On the docks of Dragonstone, the sea wind, thick with the scent of brine, ruffled the hem of Princess Elia Martell's dress. A rare, lively glow appeared on her pale face due to anticipation. Holding Rhaenys, who babbled in her arms, she looked at Euron with a gaze full of vibrant spirit.
"Since Rhaenys was born, she has never been to Dorne. My brother has mentioned many times that he wants to see her. So it is settled," her voice was soft but could not hide her joy. "Rhaenys and I will return to Dorne on your ship. I will first go to Sunspear to see my brother Doran. Afterward, I will travel to Harrenhal with you, Lady Ashara, and my wild brother Oberyn, whom I haven't seen in a long time."
Thinking of temporarily leaving the cold, damp winds of Dragonstone to return to the sunshine of Dorne and reunite with her brother and dear friend, she felt as if even her physical weakness had lessened. A genuine smile played on her lips. "I believe this will be a truly delightful journey."
Euron stood beside her, his gaze sweeping over the ships docked in the harbor. He nodded slightly, his tone steady and cautious. "It would be my honor to travel with you and the little Princess, My Lady. However, this matter still requires Prince Rhaegar's final consent." He paused, adding an impeccable reason, "After all, the journey is long, and sea voyages have many variables. The Prince's permission is crucial."
His words not only expressed respect for royal etiquette but also implied consideration for the safety of Elia and her daughter, securely handing the final decision back to her husband.
A faint but certain smile appeared on Elia Martell's pale face. She nodded gently, her tone mild but carrying an imperceptible certainty. "Of course. My... husband," she paused ever so slightly on the word, "he will not object."
During the evening banquet, she found a moment to inform Rhaegar of her plan to travel to Dorne by ship.
As Elia finished speaking, Rhaegar's gaze seemed to slowly return from a distant dream. His violet eyes, as if veiled in mist, swept lightly over his wife, seeming more concerned about whether she would cause inconvenience to others than the risks of the journey itself.
"The journey is not short," his voice was soft but held little warmth. "Would it be... too much trouble for Lord Greyjoy?"
Hearing this, Euron, who stood nearby, leaned forward naturally—not with rigid etiquette, but with a casual respect carried by the sea breeze.
"Your Highness worries too much," Euron interjected, his tone relaxed and sincere. "Having the Princess to chat with along the way would be my honor. She is knowledgeable and interesting; time will pass much faster than imagined." He smiled, looking kindly at little Rhaenys in Elia's arms. "Besides, with two princesses traveling together now, this journey will surely be even more pleasant."
Euron then added in a reassuringly practical tone, his consideration of details thorough: "On a sea voyage, comfort is paramount. We have calculated the winds and tides. We plan to stop at Tarth for rest when the journey is halfway done. It is a good harbor with calm waters, perfect for Princess Elia and little Princess Rhaenys to go ashore, stretch their legs, and get away from the rocking of the ship. We will also take the opportunity to replenish fresh water and food, ensuring the second half of the journey to Sunspear is as comfortable and swift as possible."
Rhaegar nodded absently.
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In the Throne Room of the Red Keep, shadows twisted and writhed between the pillars of light cast from high windows.
Beneath the countless entangled, jagged black blades of the Iron Throne, the gaunt figure of Aerys II was sunken deep within. His fingers unconsciously scratched against a rusted blade, making faint but ear-piercing sounds.
Prince Rhaegar stood quietly below, silver hair and purple eyes, his figure straight as a spear, yet seeming to bear the weight of the entire hall alone.
"You're back." King Aerys II's voice was hoarse, like friction from deep within a crypt. "Good. Go see your mother, and your... brother." He paused subtly on the word "brother," wrapping it in undisguised disgust. Then he pivoted, paranoid flames dancing in his eyes. "The Tourney at Harrenhal. You know of it? Are you going?"
"The Tourney at Harrenhal is known to everyone in Westeros, Father. It is a rare grand event for the Seven Kingdoms; naturally, I will not miss it." Rhaegar's answer was watertight and calm.
"Grand event? Hmph!" Aerys II hissed. "Where did Whent get so many gold dragons? Eh? Where did his money come from? Tell me!"
"Presumably, Lord Whent has his ways. It is reported that the Iron Islands will be responsible for supplying all the wine during the tourney." Rhaegar responded indifferently, stating known information plainly.
"The Iron Islands!" The Mad King's eyes narrowed sharply, like a venomous snake scenting blood. "I heard that little Kraken is on your Dragonstone! Why is he on your Dragonstone? What does he want?"
"He will also participate in the tourney. Furthermore, he is the future brother-in-law of Ser Arthur Dayne, betrothed to Ashara Dayne. He merely went to Dragonstone to train together; there is no other important matter." Rhaegar's explanation was concise and clear, trying to rationalize Euron's presence.
Aerys II let out a sharp, cold laugh. "Do you know what he did on his way to Dragonstone? Just because a few Frey knights 'teased' his handmaiden—" He exaggeratedly mimicked the word, spittle flying. "—he killed over a dozen Freys! Left no one alive! What a barbaric act!"
"There is already a public verdict on this matter, Your Grace. Lord Whent of Harrenhal has written to Lord Walder Frey, ruling that the fault lay with House Frey. Euron Greyjoy's actions are viewed as defending his honor." Rhaegar's voice remained steady, but a trace of very faint exhaustion passed over his brow.
"Honor? An Ironborn?! A pirate?! Never heard such a funny joke!" Aerys II roared, laughing madly, his voice echoing in the empty hall. "What honor does an Ironborn have? Reaving is their honor! Murder is their creed!"
"The Iron Islands are also part of the Seven Kingdoms. Perhaps Father should not call them Ironborn or pirates."
Rhaegar spoke no more, only nodding slightly, maintaining silent etiquette. He knew arguing was meaningless.
After Rhaegar's figure completely disappeared behind the heavy doors of the Throne Room, Aerys II's twisted rage did not subside; instead, it turned into an even colder, poisonous scheme. He crooked a finger. From the shadows, Varys slid out silently like a ghost, his fleshy face wearing an eternal, unsettling smile.
"Go," the Mad King's voice lowered, filled with malice. "Send a letter to Walder Frey at the Twins. Tell him the route that little Kraken is taking after leaving Dragonstone. be detailed."
Varys bowed deeply, his expression inscrutable. "As Your Grace commands. However... traveling with the little Kraken are Princess Elia Martell and her daughter..."
The Mad King waved his hand impatiently, as if shooing away a fly, interrupting him. His eyes held only hatred for the "little Kraken" and the thrill of revenge. As for the safety of the Dornish Princess and the Targaryen bloodline, he mentioned not a word, as if they didn't exist at all.
Varys asked no more. He bowed again and retreated silently into the shadows, as if he had never appeared.
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