The newcomer was none other than Count Tytos Blackwood of Ravenswood.
As soon as the Count dismounted, the two hundred Raven Guards behind him reined in their horses and stopped, demonstrating absolute discipline.
"Lord Tytos."
The heir of Haran stepped forward to greet him.
Count Tytos removed his helmet, his resolute expression unchanged, and said directly, "Take me to see Prince Daeron."
"This way, please!"
Ignoring his uncle Oswell and his party for the moment, he first welcomed the distinguished guest into Harrenhal.
"Oswell, what is going on?"
Clinton's eyes widened.
Why would members of Blackwood family appear here?
And what did he mean by going to see Prince Daeron?
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Mysaria was also dumbfounded; if she didn't trust Oswell, she would have suspected he was setting a trap for them.
Oswell:...The front courtyard.
Count Tytos walked along the cobblestone path and immediately saw the young prince standing between two young dragons, one red and one blue.
Fifty-six Dragon Guards were fully armed, providing layers of protection.
Daeron had been waiting; one hand stroked Tessaerion's dragon head, while the other held down the restless red dragon.
"Prince!"
Count Tytos approached with long strides.
As he neared, two Dragon Guards formed a human wall.
Seeing this, Daeron said, "Wait a moment, Uncle Tytos."
"Screee!"
Tessaerion rubbed against Daeron's slender waist, her well-proportioned cobalt-blue body shining like an exquisite gemstone.
"Hungry, aren't you?"
Daeron ordered the Dragon Guards to bring a mountain goat and pushed it in front of the famished young dragon.
Tessaerion sniffed it; it wasn't a fish rich in Life Force, but it would barely suffice to fill her stomach.
The young dragons were very picky eaters.
Daeron had no more fish, so he commanded in High valyrian, "Dracarys!"
"Screee!"
Tessaerion obeyed the command, breathing out a stream of cobalt-blue Dragonflame.
The goat, caught unawares, was charred to a crisp by the ink-like Dragonflame.
"Crunch, crunch!"
Tessaerion bared her fangs and began to feast greedily.
Daeron had a helpless expression.
He had intended to only bring Corakshiu, but he hadn't expected Tessaerion to follow him secretly.
Early this morning, the frolicking sounds of the two young dragons had disturbed all of Harrenhal.
Waving the Dragon Guards aside, Daeron walked toward Count Tytos.
Seeing the two young dragons with his own eyes, especially the scene of one breathing Dragonflame to feed...
Count Tytos's breath hitched, and he said in a low voice, "Prince, are these your dragons?"
Truly, hearing about them was nothing compared to seeing them.
"Yes."
Daeron took a towel to wipe his hands and said calmly, "Toothless didn't come; he was likely kept back by my father."
His father had become nearly obsessed with taming Toothless, coming up with all sorts of whimsical ideas and showing no fear of hardship or fatigue.
Unfortunately, Toothless's wild nature was hard to break.
Even Daeron's commands were only followed depending on the situation.
Count Tytos was no fool and said respectfully, "It is only right and proper for His Majesty to want a dragon."
Seeing two of the Prince's dragons was already shocking enough.
Daeron said, "I'm sorry to have troubled you to make the trip."
"It is my honor."
Count Tytos's voice was sonorous and powerful.
In the Riverlands, Blackwood family was one of the premier Great Houses.
When Daeron headed for Harrenhal, he had immediately notified them to provide support.
The two of them, one following the other, walked toward the Firespike Tower.
Oswell and his party were completely neglected.
As they walked and saw the two young dragons, they were immediately warned by the Dragon Guards.
"Back off!"
Jacaerys Velaryon, holding a flail, blocked them at a distance of twenty meters.
Clinton's face darkened, but he suppressed his anger.
Mysaria, young and aggressive, shouted, "Boy, do you know whose orders we are following?"
"You want to compare backgrounds with me?"
Jacaerys sneered.
His uncle was the master of ships, Count Luthor, and his direct superior was Prince Daeron.
He would smash the head of anyone who dared approach the young dragons.
Clang!
Mysaria suddenly drew her sword.
In the next second, dozens of Dragon Guards surrounded them, each drawing their weapons like hungry wolves or tigers.
In Westeros...
One could never imagine how excellent the treatment Daeron gave his Dragon Guards was, enough to make them follow him unto death.
"Calm down, Mysaria."
Clinton held back his friend.
Only when Oswell revealed his identity as a member of the Kingsguard did the Dragon Guards back down, and he quickly pulled his two friends away.
As a top-tier knight who had mastered Life Force, he was confident he could take on ten men alone.
But dozens of Dragon Guards in heavy armor, armed with morning stars and flails...
They could literally pound him into meat paste... The Hall of a Hundred Hearths.
Count Walder warmly entertained Count Tytos.
But when he heard that his brother Oswell had returned, the smile on his face froze instantly.
"Why did he have to come back at such an inopportune time!"
Walder cursed furiously in his heart.
With both parties meeting, wouldn't he be caught in the middle, pleasing no one?
Daeron smiled and said, "Lord, it seems you have a problem."
Being caught acting like a 'fence-sitter' would lead to being called a chameleon.
Count Walder said nothing, his mind racing through a storm of thoughts.
Soon, he made a decision.
Count Walder reached out and said solemnly, "Prince, please take a seat first. I will give you a satisfactory answer."
Daeron or Rhaegar?
If his brother Oswell chose the older brother, then he, as the older brother, would choose the younger brother.
In an instant, his stance became firm.
"Don't make it difficult for yourself,"
Daeron said as he sat on the lord's seat.
A short while later...
Oswell and his party entered the hall.
At a glance, they saw Daeron sitting prominently.
Barristan, in silver armor and a white cloak, stood at the young prince's left hand.
Count Tytos, still in his armor and clutching a greatsword, stood at the young prince's right hand.
"Brother?"
Oswell's heart sank, an ominous feeling rushing to his head.
Count Walder stood up and said with a cold face, "Oswell, you are a member of the Kingsguard. Why are you back with your family instead of serving before the King?"
These words were a direct accusation of disloyalty.
Oswell's expression changed drastically, and he subconsciously touched the white cloak on his back.
Count Walder pressed on, questioning, "Are these your friends?"
He was naturally referring to Clinton and the others.
Oswell was speechless.
Prince Rhaegar's rival was sitting right there, and his elder brother's dismissive attitude toward him made the situation very clear.
House Rivers had changed sides.
Clinton stood in front of Oswell and said, "Lord Riverrun, we are just visiting while passing through; we mean no ill will."
In terms of status, he was the Count of Griffins Roost.
A fellow high noble.
Count Walder didn't give him any face and said coldly, "If you are guests, then I welcome you."
"But since Oswell has neglected his duties, I shall ask His Majesty for forgiveness on his behalf."
With that, he waved his hand, issuing an order to see the guests out.
Oswell's face turned pale; he was utterly mortified.
And Count Walder's words truly ignited Clinton's fury.
He stepped forward and said, "Lord Riverrun, do you know how much disaster your actions today will bring!?"
Before this, House Rivers had been a staunch supporter of Prince Rhaegar.
With the Tourney at Harrenhal imminent, how did Walder dare to turn his back on them?
"And what are you here for?"
Daeron knew it was time for him to speak.
Clinton turned his target and said righteously, "I am here on the orders of Prince Rhaegar to consult with Lord Riverrun on the proceedings of the Tourney."
By now, there was no point in hiding it.
House Rivers was a supporter of Prince Rhaegar.
They were in the past, they would be in the future, and they should be even more so now!