At dawn the next day, the sky was still dim.
The campfire had burned out, and most of the camp remained immersed in the revelry of the previous night.
A luxurious, snow-white carriage slowly rolled out of the camp, escorted by the silver-armored Kingsguard, making its way back to King's Landing.
The royal hunt had come to an end, and the king and his family were the first to depart.
Compared to their arrival, the procession now included an additional, slightly smaller yet exquisitely crafted carriage.
Inside, the spacious carriage carried several passengers.
Aemond sat alone in the back, his head lowered, absentmindedly picking at his fingers.
To his left, the four Baratheon sisters, known as the Storm's Four, sat close together, arranged in order of age from eldest to youngest.
Cassandra, the eldest, sat closest to Aemond. As she chatted with her sisters, she occasionally stole glances at him.
In an effort to strengthen the alliance between the two houses, the king and queen had specially invited the Baratheon sisters to travel with the royal procession, providing more opportunities for interaction with Aemond, their intended match.
Opposite the Storm's Four, Rhaenyra, dressed in a black gown, sat next to Laena, who wore a simple white dress. Each held a little girl with dark skin close to their side.
After some discussion, Daemon's family had also decided to return to King's Landing with the royal party.
Once they arrived, they would board a ship at Blackwater Bay to Dragonstone, while Daemon's family would continue on to Driftmark.
Rhaenys did not accompany them.
She had been persuaded by her cousin Borros to visit Storm's End as a guest.
As the carriage rattled noisily over the uneven road, the atmosphere inside grew stiflingly heavy.
Rhaenyra glanced at Laena and sighed, finding the journey increasingly dull.
This carriage ride was meant to foster interactions between Aemond and the Storm's Four, while she and Laena were tasked with supervising, ensuring that no further conflicts arose.
However, Aemond was naturally reserved and spoke little, his personality far from outgoing.
Meanwhile, the Storm's Four, having learned from their previous encounter with Aegon, no longer eagerly sought to engage with Aemond, making the atmosphere even more awkward.
Perhaps unable to bear the oppressive silence any longer, Baela, who was resting against Rhaenyra, tilted her head up and asked in a crisp voice, "Princess, when will my little dragon hatch?"
At last, someone had spoken, immediately drawing everyone's attention.
Baela and Rhaena were still just three-year-old girls, their hair braided neatly, their delicate features having inherited Laena's beauty.
Cassandra turned her gaze toward them, her eyes filled with envy as she stared at the dragon egg in Baela's arms.
Baela was clutching a green dragon egg, while Rhaena held a black-and-red speckled egg carefully on her lap.
Rhaenyra thought for a moment before offering encouragement. "Be patient. Your little dragon will come out of its egg eventually."
"Mhm!" Baela nodded eagerly, reassured.
"Mother, what about mine?"
Rhaena, shy by nature, asked her mother the same question while cradling her own dragon egg.
Laena leaned down and kissed Rhaena's forehead gently. "Patience brings rewards, sweet one. Your egg will hatch into a beautiful dragon."
Receiving this affirmation, Rhaena blushed and hugged her dragon egg tightly.
Seeing this, the Storm's Four exchanged glances, each recognizing the envy in the other's eyes.
A dragon egg…
Cassandra straightened her dress, folding her hands neatly on her lap as she stared intently at Aemond.
Her younger sister, Maris, did the same, pulling out a handful of colorful candies and offering them to Aemond as though coaxing a child.
The two youngest sisters, still too young to fully understand, simply sat there, overwhelmed and unsure how to act.
They didn't look at Aemond, who had grown visibly annoyed, but instead kept their eyes fixed on the dragon eggs in Baela and Rhaena's laps.
The four girls were all of a similar age, their thoughts simple—they purely longed for a dragon egg of their own.
---
### The Next Day
**King's Landing, Mud Gate**
Beyond the docks, a three-masted royal ship flying the Targaryen sigil—three red dragon heads—sailed into Blackwater Bay.
"Catch me if you can!"
A peal of laughter, as clear as a silver bell, rang out, accompanied by the sound of hurried footsteps.
On the wide deck, a group of children were playing and chasing one another.
Among them were Helaena, Aemond, and Daeron of House Targaryen, along with Baela, Rhaena, and the four Baratheon sisters.
At seventeen, Cassandra was the eldest of the group.
She stood protectively in front of her younger sisters, doing her best to take part in the game.
Maris, sixteen, stuck close to Aemond, cleverly maneuvering to stay involved.
"Aemond, let's have a sword duel later," she suggested.
Helaena remained quietly to the side, looking after the youngest—Baela and Rhaena.
"Sure." Aemond, already exasperated by the Storm's Four, agreed without a second thought.
He understood his duty in arranging a political marriage, but such matters did not yet interest him.
What he truly wanted was to claim a dragon—he wanted to go to Dragonstone and tame one of his own.
His response, however, visibly displeased the Storm's Four.
Cassandra's smile faded as she exchanged a look with Maris.
Maris furrowed her brows, pressing her lips together in silent reluctance.
"Go!" Cassandra shot her a warning glare.
Maris dared not defy her eldest sister. Reluctantly, she turned her attention to Helaena, who was sitting on the deck with a blanket draped over her lap.
Gritting her teeth, she seized the moment, pretending to chase Daeron while deliberately running toward Helaena.
Squeezing her eyes shut, she braced herself and charged forward.
**Thud!**
Caught off guard, Helaena was knocked over, her forehead hitting the wooden deck.
"Ah! That hurt!"
Fortunately, the blanket beneath her softened the fall, so she only ended up with a reddened forehead rather than a serious injury.
Seeing this, Aemond immediately lost his temper. He strode forward and snapped, "What are you doing? You just knocked over my sister!"
Force met force.
Maris had collided with Helaena, but the impact sent her reeling as well.
Unlike Helaena, she had fallen on bare wood—her exposed elbows and knees scraped against the rough deck, leaving small abrasions.
Aemond grabbed her by the arm and pulled her aside, checking on Helaena first.
Tears welled in Helaena's eyes as she clutched her sore forehead.
"Sister, are you alright?"
**Aemond's eyes were full of anxiety as he worriedly reached out to touch her.**
The next second—
Helena's body stiffened, the mist in her eyes faded, and she quickly blurted out, "The deer's corpse is being devoured!"
As soon as she spoke, she climbed off the blanket, hugged her trembling body, and walked toward the cabin.
Aemond was momentarily stunned and asked in confusion, "The deer's corpse?"
He wanted to step forward and call his sister back, but seeing how tense she looked, he hesitated and withdrew his hand.
---
**Not long after, on a dirt road in Stormlands.**
Several Storm Knights carrying banners adorned with a golden stag led the way, followed closely by a luxurious carriage.
Inside the carriage, the hearty laughter of the lord echoed from time to time.
There were three people inside: Borros, Elenna, and the invited guest, Rhaenys.
Borros sat on the inner side of the carriage, while the two ladies sat opposite each other on the left and right.
"Cousin, try this dish. The foie gras is as tender as cotton," Borros said, devouring his meal with a knife and fork, gulping down large mouthfuls of wine without a shred of decorum.
Rhaenys remained expressionless, showing no appetite whatsoever.
Elenna noticed her cousin's lack of interest and attempted to strike up a friendly conversation to pass the time on the journey.
As they chatted, an unexpected incident occurred.
**Clang!**
Borros' face suddenly stiffened. His knife and fork slipped from his hands, clattering onto the floor. Clutching his stomach, he groaned in pain.
"Agh! My stomach—it feels like it's going to burst!"
Elenna jumped in fright and hurriedly supported her husband. "What's wrong? I told you to eat less. You've been bloated for the past two days."
Borros was a valiant warrior, but he was also a man with an insatiable appetite.
"No! It hurts! My stomach—it's like it's about to explode!"
The pain escalated rapidly. Borros trembled violently before collapsing with a thud, his body convulsing uncontrollably.
"Borros! Are you okay?!"
Rhaenys also sensed that something was terribly wrong and shouted toward the outside, "Someone, come quickly! The lord is ill! Fetch the maester at once!"
"Aaahhh—"
Within just a few breaths, Borros could no longer speak. His face turned a deep shade of purple, and blood vessels burst beneath his eyes, forming a dense web of red lines.
By the time the maester opened the carriage door, Borros' neck was stiff, and he let out one final, grotesque roar—
Then, he stopped breathing.
The maester's eyes widened in horror. Lifting Borros' shirt, he saw that his abdomen was grotesquely swollen. When he pressed it, it was as hard as if it had been stuffed with a rock.
**Gulp.**
The maester swallowed nervously before stammering, "The lord… is dead."
"No! How could this happen?!"
Elenna watched her husband die right before her eyes, unable to accept it. She shrieked in despair, "Borros! Wake up! You can't leave me like this!"
The maester backed away in panic, not daring to speak further.
Rhaenys sat frozen in her seat, staring in disbelief at her cousin's tragic fate.
After a long silence, she called the maester over and said heavily, "Write a letter to King's Landing. Inform them of Borros' death."
"Yes, Princess."
The maester shuddered, lowered his head, and hurried out of the carriage.
After giving the order, Rhaenys leaned back weakly against the carriage wall, wiping her now-creased forehead. She took two deep breaths.
Borros had died right before her eyes.
Turning her gaze toward his swollen belly, her pupils shrank slightly as she muttered under her breath, "Uncle Balerion…"
---
**Nightfall, Blackwater Bay.**
The sea was calm and still. The royal ship sailed steadily along the trade route.
Inside the ship's cabin, Rhaegar walked down the corridor and knocked on Helena's door.
During dinner, Helena's maid had reported that she wasn't feeling well and hadn't come to eat.
Upon asking further, he learned that Helena had been injured earlier in the day.
Worried about his sister, Rhaegar came to check on her.
**Knock, knock…**
"Helena, are you hungry?" Rhaegar asked, testing the waters.
"…"
Silence filled the room.
Rhaegar's eyes narrowed slightly. He was about to knock again.
Ever since she had tamed Dreamfyre, Helena had become much more cheerful and strong-willed.
If nothing was wrong, she wouldn't ignore him like this.
"Don't bother knocking. She won't answer you," came a sullen voice.
Rhaegar turned to see Aemond stepping out from around the corridor's corner, holding a long loaf of bread in his hand.
Upon closer inspection, the boy's expression was gloomy, and his head was lowered.
Rhaegar instantly saw through Aemond's hesitation and asked directly, "Aemond, you know what happened to Helaena, don't you?"
"More or less."
Aemond nodded and said in a low voice, "After she was hit, she started rambling about a stag's corpse and being devoured. Then she ended up like this."
"A stag's corpse?" Rhaegar pressed, his expression turning serious.
Aemond hesitated for a moment before confirming, "Yes, a stag."
Rhaegar closed his eyes slightly, his mind racing with thoughts.
Based on Aemond's description, it seemed likely that Helaena had foreseen something, which led her to withdraw into herself.
The night before, he had dreamed of a white stag's death and had assumed it referred to the one in the Kingswood.
But Helaena's prophecy was even more specific—she had spoken of a stag's corpse and being devoured.
In a flash of realization, Rhaegar's mind cleared, and he murmured in shock, "Baratheon?"
Across all of Westeros, the only family associated with a stag was House Baratheon of Storm's End.
Now that he had traced the root of the vision, it wasn't hard to deduce that someone from House Baratheon was in danger.
With that thought, he strode swiftly toward the exit, determined to take action before it was too late.
As he passed Aemond, he patted him on the shoulder and praised, "At least you remembered that Helaena hasn't eaten—acting like a true younger brother."
Before Aemond could respond, Rhaegar had already disappeared down the hall, moving with relentless urgency.
…
Before long, he returned to his chambers.
As he opened the door, he saw Rhaenyra seated at her vanity, brushing her hair, while a beautiful foreign woman stood beside her, carefully tending to the ends of her locks.
"Rhaegar?"
Rhaenyra looked up in surprise as he hurried inside.
"I have something urgent that needs handling," Rhaegar replied, his gaze locking onto the foreign woman. He spoke seriously, "Sara, take a small boat and return to King's Landing immediately. Head straight for Storm's End."
He himself still had matters to attend to on Dragonstone and couldn't leave.
(End of Chapter)