"Sskree!"
Coraxes circled once, tucked its small hind legs and wing membranes, flapped its broad wings, and descended almost in a straight line.
Boom—!
Daeron turned his head aside, avoiding the gust of wind from the young dragon's landing.
Coraxes stretched its neck, propped its broad wings on the ground as tall as a man, and nuzzled its head against its father's chest.
"In another year or so, I'll be able to ride you and soar through the sky."
Daeron moved gently, lightly scratching Coraxes under the jaw.
The young dragon was growing quickly.
The once smooth scales covering its jaw now sprouted some sharp spines, making it impossible to pet recklessly.
"Sskree!"
Coraxes let out a soft hiss, its voice clear and melodious, just as its body was agile and nimble.
Barristan strode over and said gravely, "Prince, Maester Harvy says a raven has arrived from Dragonstone."
"Oh?"
Daeron paused in his movements.
By his reckoning, his eldest brother Rhaegar had been at sea for nearly two months and should be returning soon.
"Let's discuss this back inside."
Daeron patted Coraxes on the neck and prepared to return to the Red Keep.
Coraxes hissed once, flapped its broad wings twice, pushed off with its small hind legs, and its slender body took off again almost vertically.
This was an innate advantage due to its unique physiological structure.
Daeron took one last look at the young dragons play-fighting in the sky and headed back with Barristan.
The three young dragons had already passed their fragile infancy.
They could fly and wield Dragonfire.
Anyone who tried to harm them would first taste the Dragonfire.
...
Red Keep.
As he walked, Daeron listened to suggestions.
"Prince, if Prince Rhaegar returns, he might ask you for one of the young dragons."
Barristan expressed his concern.
Dragons represent power!
In the Targaryen family, where dragons had been extinct for over a hundred and fifty years, everyone dreamed of having a dragon.
Just look at the king, who pestered that black young dragon all day, even getting burned by Dragonfire or scratched by sharp claws, yet he never tired of it.
Rhaegar would surely be tempted.
Daeron said calmly, "No one can make me give up my children."
If someone wants a dragon.
Then they should replicate his experience—go find a dragon egg and hatch one.
Expecting a dragon for free.
That's not possible!
"As long as you're mentally prepared."
Barristan felt relieved.
Halfway there, they heard the sound of chasing and play-fighting.
Daeron glanced back.
His two younger brothers were chasing each other in the front courtyard, waving "little wooden swords" and "little wooden tridents" back and forth.
"Be careful!
Those two wooden weapons aren't simple."
"Second brother!"
Little Jaehaerys and Viserys, hearing his voice, put down their weapons and happily ran over.
Daeron ruffled the heads of the two little ones: "Be careful, don't swing weapons around recklessly."
"We know."
Jaehaerys grinned.
Viserius nodded obediently too.
Daeron frowned, not believing a word they said.
Ever since he got dragons, his two foolish younger brothers had been pestering him to get them dragons too.
Not his three dragons, but to hatch one each for them separately.
As if it were that simple?
Daeron made each of them skip a meal.
He had dragon eggs on hand, but they were three petrified, lifeless ones.
He had hatched three dragons by collecting various rare materials and, in the end, a life-risking blood sacrifice.
He couldn't hatch three more petrified dragon eggs.
But he still gave his younger brothers a little reward.
Daeron looked at the wooden weapons in their hands.
Forest Sword (Level 3): "Damage 8-18, Speed +2, Defense +1."
broken trident (Level 5 Dagger): "Attack 15-26, +1 Critical Damage, +1 Critical Chance."
One was a beginner's weapon dropped from smashing wooden crates in a mine, the other a transitional weapon from a fishing treasure chest.
The two little brothers each had one and were having a great time.
Seeing his brothers sticking around, Daeron asked, "Do you two have something to say?"
"Mhm."
Jaehaerys nodded, looking troubled: "Mother is going to Dragonstone, and we have to go too."
Viserius chimed in: "Don't want to go."
Daeron asked for details and pieced together the whole story.
His sister-in-law Elia was five months pregnant and would give birth in less than half a year.
Queen Rhaella took her daughter-in-law's first pregnancy very seriously and wanted to go to Dragonstone personally to care for her.
"Mother still loves Rhaegar more."
Daeron felt a bit uneasy.
Anyone could see that Daeron's sudden rise had created a subtle rivalry with the highly esteemed Rhaegar.
During such a sensitive time, any small change could shift the balance.
Yet Rhaella was still going to Dragonstone.
This move was tantamount to publicly supporting her eldest son.
Daeron waved his hand: "Forget it, you two go play."
"Okay, we're off."
Jaehaerys was sensible; after saying his piece, he pulled his brother away to play.
Daeron watched them walk away and instructed Barristan: "Later, find Alliser. When Mother leaves, arrange for a team of Gold Cloaks to provide thorough protection."
"Yes, Prince."
Barristan nodded solemnly.
But in his mind, he thought Queen Rhaella's departure was ill-timed.
It happened just as Prince Rhaegar was about to return to Dragonstone, and just as Prince Daeron's young dragons hadn't fully grown.
Currently, nobles across the Seven Kingdoms were coveting the newborn young dragons.
Regardless of whether going to Dragonstone would affect Prince Daeron's reputation, what if the Dornish detained her?
"The Prince is thoughtful as always."
Barristan sighed helplessly.
...
Not long after.
Daeron learned the news from Maester Harvy.
They had guessed correctly.
Three days ago, Rhaegar returned to Dragonstone.
But what Daeron truly cared about was another piece of news concerning the Riverlands.
"Prince, look at this."
Maester Harvy handed over a letter and said cautiously: "Lord Haran of Harrenhal has spread word that he will host a tourney in the fourth month of spring next year."
Tourney at Harrenhal!
Daeron's gaze sharpened, thinking to himself that what was coming had finally arrived.
Rhaegar was still funding Lord Haran to host the tourney, planning to use it to rally the lords and execute his scheme to usurp the throne or secure a "regent" position.
Traditionally, he probably wouldn't dare to usurp directly.
Most likely, he'd gather the lords for a great council vote or something similar, sidelining their father Aerys to make himself "Prince Regent" and control the government.
But none of that mattered.
Daeron was puzzled: "Why did you kidnap Lyanna?"
Lusting after beauty?
Lyanna was the same age as Shae, which didn't fit Rhaegar's usual preferences.
Given the Stark Family's typically long faces, even if Lyanna was famously beautiful, she wouldn't be a stunning beauty.
Besides, Elia was considered a great beauty.
For political reasons?
Kidnapping Lyanna directly angered the Stark and Baratheon families and indirectly provoked the Arryn and Tully families.
The reason the Targaryen family declined.
On one hand, it was the lack of dragons; on the other, their father Aerys's madness.
The nobles of the Seven Kingdoms were counting on you, Rhaegar, to be a good prince.
Not necessarily brilliant, but at least free from Aerys's shadow.
But then you pull this stunt, making it hard to believe you're sane.
"It can't really be for some damn prophecy, can it?"
Daeron deeply doubted it.
The prophecy was "the dragon has three heads," but I already have three real dragons.
If Rhaegar was truly obsessed with prophecies, he should hurry over and pay homage to me.
Truly baffling!
Seeing the prince deep in thought, Maester Harvy took out a separate letter and said:
"Prince, this is a letter from Lord Haran addressed specifically to you, inviting you to meet at Harrenhal."