"Brother."
As soon as she spoke, Helena pouted, looking at Rhaegar with a grievance in her eyes.
"What happened? Come here."
Seeing Helena's tear-streaked little face, Rhaegar quickly gestured for her to come over.
Helena broke free from her grandfather Otto's grasp and ran into her brother's arms.
Rhaegar glanced at the Four Storms, gently stroking Helena's cheek, and frowned. "What happened?"
"A fight."
Helena lifted her little face, sniffled pitifully, and complained, "Aegon hit Cassandra. They went to fight Aegon, and Aemond and I tried to break it up, but we got dragged in too."
She was only thirteen, and Aemond was two years younger than her—he took the worst of it.
Hearing this, Rhaegar smacked his forehead and sighed, "Seven Hells!"
So it was just a childish scuffle.
By now, Viserys had also realized what was happening and asked Rhaenys about it.
True to her reputation as the Uncrowned Queen, Rhaenys remained impartial and recounted the events objectively.
**Bang!**
Viserys slammed his goblet down in anger, his face flushed with shame. "Damn it! He hit a woman and then ran away!"
He was, of course, talking about Aegon.
After striking Cassandra, Aegon had panicked—afraid of punishment and desperate to escape the arranged marriage—so he stole a horse from the stables and fled the camp.
Borros' face turned red with fury as he held his second daughter, Maris, in his arms. Gritting his teeth, he said, "Your Majesty, it was you who proposed this marriage alliance in your letter. That's why I brought my four daughters here. Prince Aegon's behavior is far too arrogant."
He had just been reprimanded by the king and forced to behead five of his loyal vassals.
He had hoped this would smooth things over, but now, his own daughter had been beaten by a Targaryen brat.
Fearing that the king might use this as an excuse to further humiliate him, he turned to his cousin Rhaenys for support.
Viserys frowned deeply and said in a solemn tone, "Borros, I assure you this was not done with my approval. I will bring Aegon back and give you a proper explanation."
Striking a potential betrothed was indeed disgraceful.
Borros clenched his jaw, wanting to demand justice, but the words got stuck in his throat.
Rhaenys, ever mindful of the bigger picture, glanced around at the watching nobles and lowered her voice. "Viserys, Aegon must apologize to the Four Storms. House Baratheon also needs to maintain its dignity."
"No problem. I will not shield him."
Viserys was fuming, but he forced a smile and turned to the Four Storms, speaking gently. "And as for you lovely ladies, Aegon has shown poor manners. I will choose another suitor to host you."
Even at this moment, he had not given up on the marriage alliance.
Without such a bond, he could never feel at ease with Borros ruling the Stormlands.
Cassandra's eyes lit up, despite the bruise on the corner of her eye. She glanced at Rhaegar expectantly and asked, "Who will be our host?"
Of course, by "host," she meant the new potential fiancé.
Viserys immediately saw through her intentions and smiled warmly. "One of my two younger sons will be chosen."
Then, he gestured toward Rhaegar and instructed, "The soldiers failed in their patrol duties. Take a squad and bring Aegon back."
His eldest son was already betrothed—he could not offer him to the Baratheon girls.
Rhaegar understood the meaning behind his father's words. He patted Helena on the back and said, "Father, Helena and Aemond were also caught up in this. Don't forget to comfort them."
Helena, her little face still scrunched in frustration, walked toward her father with a sorrowful expression.
She wasn't the only one who had been hit—she had been shoved around several times as well.
Leaving Viserys looking troubled, Rhaegar cast a glance at the silent Otto before stepping out of the tent.
As soon as he exited, he nearly collided with Alicent, who had just rushed over.
But Alicent had no time for minor details. She stormed into the tent, her voice anxious and sharp. "Where is Aegon? What happened to Helena and Aemond?"
Rhaegar shrugged and kept walking.
With Alicent there, Helena and Aemond would certainly not be neglected.
---
Night fell. Stars dotted the sky, though thick clouds obscured the moon's gentle glow.
A winding path stretched through the King's Wood, several miles from the camp.
**Clip-clop…**
A white horse galloped through the darkness. Rhaegar rode atop it, while Aegon was tied to a rope behind, forced to run to keep up.
"Rhaegar, stop! I can't run anymore!"
Aegon was exhausted, his vision spinning, his legs weak and unsteady—he was on the verge of collapsing.
Rhaegar ignored him. Instead, he cracked the whip against the horse's flank, making it run even faster.
"Hey! Are you even listening to me? I really can't go on!"
Aegon gasped for breath, his legs stumbling as he tried to keep up, tears of frustration welling in his eyes.
After over a mile of relentless running, Aegon finally collapsed with a desperate wail, landing flat on his back and being dragged several feet through the dirt.
"Whoa—"
Rhaegar pulled the reins, halting his horse. He tossed the whip aside and dismounted.
Aegon lay sprawled on the ground, his clothes torn and his back covered in scrapes and bruises.
"I was wrong! I swear, I know I was wrong!"
Seeing Rhaegar approaching step by step, Aegon panicked. Despite his bound hands, he frantically kicked his legs, trying to wriggle away.
Rhaegar grabbed him by the collar and chuckled. "Why didn't you just fly away on your dragon?"
Aegon's face crumpled with despair, too terrified to move. He groaned miserably, "Your gluttonous beast is out hunting Sunfyre. Sunfyre got scared and won't come near me."
He also wanted to ride a dragon and escape far away, but reality dealt him a harsh blow.
Rhaegar laughed outright and asked, "Do you know what this means?"
"What does it mean?" Aegon scooted backward, trembling as he asked.
Rhaegar's smile faded, and he said coldly, "It means you're out of luck."
With that, he grabbed the dodging Aegon and slapped him hard across the face.
When his hand started to hurt from slapping, he switched to punching. When he got tired of punching, he resorted to kicking.
As he beat him, Rhaegar scolded, "Are you even a man? Hitting a woman is bad enough, but why did you run? Did you think Father would cut you to pieces?"
They had chased him for half the day before finally catching up with the drunken Aegon by a small creek.
Rhaegar had to let out his anger first.
"Stop hitting me! I was wrong…"
Aegon couldn't dodge, so he curled up, covering his head, and cried out, "I wasn't even interested in them! Why do I have to marry them?"
"That's a political marriage. Do you think you can just do whatever you want?"
Rhaegar was furious at his incompetence. He grabbed the shivering Aegon and demanded, "If you won't marry a Baratheon daughter, do you want to be betrothed to Helaena?"
"No! That idiot is even worse than the Four Storms."
Aegon shook his head frantically, his bloodied lips pulling into a grimace. He pleaded, "I want to marry a great beauty, even if her status is lower. Just let Aemond and Daeron have the Four Storms."
Rhaegar was livid. "How could someone as stupid as you exist? You've completely wasted our grandfather's careful planning."
Finally exhausted from beating him, Rhaegar untied the rope binding Aegon to his horse's tail, threw him over the saddle, and climbed onto his own white horse.
He didn't bother checking if Aegon was securely in place before riding back to camp.
In less than fifteen minutes, the camp gates came into view.
Upon entering, Rhaegar dragged Aegon into the main tent and handed him over to their father for punishment.
"Aegon!"
Alicent was in the tent as well. Seeing Aegon's bruised and swollen face, she cried out in distress.
"Alicent, leave us," Viserys said sternly, his face dark. He didn't want his wife interfering to shield their son.
Alicent glared at him unwillingly and said, heartbroken, "Look at how badly Aegon has been beaten! Call the Grand Maester to treat him at once."
The first sentence was directed at her husband, while the second was an order to Ser Arryk, the Kingsguard stationed at the tent entrance.
Viserys waved his hand wearily and dismissed her. "Go. Aegon will apologize to the Four Storms and receive a fair punishment."
"Don't forget, Aegon is your son too."
Alicent's face was filled with sorrow, but she didn't dare go against her husband's decision. Seething with resentment, she turned to leave.
As she passed by Rhaegar, a flash of anger flickered in her eyes, though she hid it well.
She knew for certain that Aegon's injuries were Rhaegar's doing.
Rhaegar remained expressionless, ignoring her completely.
Aegon had been spoiled rotten, with no sense of responsibility—only concern for his own pleasure.
To Rhaegar, it wasn't necessarily a bad thing that his half-brother was useless.
But he couldn't let him create trouble, running wild just because he was royalty.
If he couldn't even accept an arranged marriage, what else could be expected of him?
Once Alicent was gone, the tension in the tent eased slightly.
With no outsiders present, Viserys forced Aegon to apologize to Cassandra and then to each of the other three sisters.
Since Rhaenys vouched for him, Borros didn't dare press the matter further. Instead, he ordered his four daughters to apologize to Helaena and Aemond in return.
The siblings felt utterly wronged—they had only tried to break up the fight but got dragged into the mess.
Finally, Viserys assumed his regal demeanor and said with a pleasant smile, "Borros, we will discuss the marriage arrangement further. In the meantime, the children should get to know each other better."
Borros' expression was grim. He looked past the defiant Aegon and scrutinized the unremarkable Aemond.
The king's third son—educated but inexperienced in both academics and combat, a prince who was barely acknowledged at court.
Most importantly, he had no dragon.
After careful consideration, wary of angering the king, Borros stiffly nodded and agreed, "The daughters of House Baratheon do not hold grudges. They will get along well."
Aemond, his head lowered, was unaware that he had just become Aegon's replacement.
In his mind, he was still brooding over the argument from earlier.
Turning the conversation over and over, he wondered—if he had a dragon of his own, could he have burned the Four Storms to ashes with one breath of dragonfire?
As he thought about it, his fists clenched unconsciously.
…
That night, the nobles held a bonfire feast in the camp.
Some had witnessed Rhaegar dragging Aegon behind his horse, while others had seen Aegon's confrontation with the Four Storms that afternoon.
They whispered in the shadows, discussing the tense relations between the royal family and House Baratheon.
Alicent stormed out of the tent, the cool night breeze reviving her last shred of reason.
"Your Grace."
Out of nowhere, a low voice filled with emotion called to her from nearby.
Alicent turned, tilting her chin up proudly as the green silk of her dress billowed in the wind.
In the dimly lit corner beyond the firelight, she saw a familiar figure.
Larys Strong leaned on his cane, sitting alone on a wooden stool, watching her with a timid smile.
Feeling the weight of her sharp gaze, Larys seemed uncomfortable. He lowered his head, avoiding her eyes, as if afraid that someone might see through his insecurities and hidden thoughts.
"What do you want?"
Alicent glanced around cautiously before gracefully approaching the shadowed corner.
The dim lighting revealed a table littered with half-eaten scraps, a spot overlooked by the revelers.
It was the perfect place for someone like Larys, who preferred to stay out of sight.
Larys smiled. "Your Grace, it seems you are in need of a reliable ally."
(End of Chapter)