Chapter 211: Otto’s Provocation

Three days later.

King's Landing, Mud Gate.

Several large ships docked at the harbor, and soldiers carried down one wounded comrade after another. Rhaegar stepped off the ship and immediately spotted a familiar figure.

"Rhaegar!" Rhaenyra called out, waving enthusiastically as she stood surrounded by guards, a bright smile lighting up her face.

Rhaegar's stern expression softened and he hurried toward her. Rhaenyra trotted to meet him, and through the crowd the two siblings embraced.

Rhaenyra wrapped her arms around his waist and looked up at him in admiration. "Rhaegar, you did it! You won a great battle."

"It's nothing," Rhaegar replied with a soft laugh, lowering his head to bury his face in her hair. Feeling the warmth of her embrace, his tense nerves finally began to relax.

Rhaenyra, her head resting against his cheek, patted his back gently. During his absence, she had worried incessantly, and now, she relished the relief of his safe return.

As they stood there, locked in a loving embrace, their guards formed a protective circle around them. Nearby, Alicent and Jeyne watched the reunion. Jeyne, hands behind her back, smiled warmly at the scene, showing no sign of jealousy or desire to interfere. Alicent, on the other hand, seemed anxious, her gaze fixed intently on Rhaegar.

After a while, Rhaegar pulled back slightly and acknowledged the onlookers. "What are you doing here?" he asked, his brows furrowed and his tone cold.

Jeyne stepped forward with a gracious smile. "Congratulations on your triumph, Rhaegar," she said, opening her arms to embrace both siblings.

Rhaegar sighed, a look of helplessness in his eyes. Rhaenyra, caught off guard by Jeyne's boldness, hesitated.

"You..." Rhaenyra began, but Alicent quickly intervened. "Rhaenyra, your father has prepared a banquet to celebrate. Let's return to the Red Keep."

"Alright," Rhaegar agreed, squeezing Rhaenyra's hand to calm her. Jeyne released her hold and gestured invitingly.

Rhaenyra shot Jeyne a glare but led Rhaegar towards the waiting carriage. The vehicle was prepared to take them back to the Red Keep, where a grand celebration awaited.

...

Noon.

The Red Keep hosted a grand banquet to celebrate the victory in the Stepstones Islands. Viserys drank heavily and couldn't stop smiling as he praised his eldest son's achievements.

Rhaegar ate some pastries before quietly slipping away from the festivities.

In the bathhouse, Rhaegar soaked in a steaming hot bath, enjoying the feel of gentle hands massaging him. After days spent on Bloodstone Island, strategizing and fighting, he was utterly exhausted.

As the warmth of the bath eased his fatigue, Rhaegar spoke drowsily, "Did Alicent ask you to send me a letter?"

Rhaenyra, sitting nearby, her voice tinged with regret, replied, "I didn't want to distract you."

"It doesn't matter," Rhaegar said, catching her hand as it moved across his chest. "I was already wary of the Dornish anyway."

He turned to the girl attending him. "Fetch more hot water, Skylar."

"Yes, Prince," she replied. The girl, with long curly brown hair and wheat-colored skin, stood and left to fill a kettle.

Rhaenyra, shifting from her perch, asked, "Is she the spy you planted in Riverrun?"

Rhaegar splashed the water and chuckled, "Don't be jealous. Skylar has been with me since I was six. She's loyal and hardworking."

"Who's jealous?" Rhaenyra blushed, quickly changing the subject. "Why is she back?"

"Old Tully's sons have resolved their conflict. There's no need to monitor them anymore," Rhaegar explained, a glint in his eyes. "The winds are changing, and I need all the loyal people I can gather."

Rhaenyra didn't grasp all the details, but she understood the kingdom was at war. As the heir, Rhaegar's preparations were necessary.

Skylar returned with the kettle, pouring the steaming water into the tub. Rhaegar moaned in comfort, leaning his head back against the edge.

"Hmph, you wash yourself. I'm going to my room," Rhaenyra said, flustered by Rhaegar's contented sounds. She fled, closing the door with a bang, as if venting her frustration.

Once she left, Skylar resumed massaging Rhaegar, her hands skilled and firm. "Princesses are very sensitive," she commented with a light smile.

"Yeah, not as thick-skinned as you," Rhaegar teased, relaxing further into her touch.

Skylar ignored the jab and reported, "I've settled all the advisers' families you asked me to bring back in the Dragonpit."

"Good," Rhaegar murmured, his eyes closing as sleepiness overtook him.

Skylar's hands moved skillfully from his head to his shoulders, chest, and stomach. Her touch brought a final wave of relaxation as Rhaegar groaned in satisfaction, his body finally at ease.

...

Nightfall.

Rhaegar woke from his deep sleep, refreshed, and changed into his long-prepared clothes. Exiting the bathroom, he hesitated for a moment in the hallway before deciding to head to his own bedroom. Skylar's skilled hands had rejuvenated him, and he didn't want to disturb Rhaenyra's rest.

When he reached his bedroom door, he pushed it open. The room was as neat as ever under the warm glow of candlelight. Closing the door behind him, Rhaegar turned and was startled by what he saw.

By the fireplace, a little girl in a white dress was crouching. He recognized her immediately.

"Helaena?" he asked in surprise.

The girl looked up, her face streaked with tears, and softly exclaimed, "Brother~~"

Rhaegar walked over and sat beside her. "Who made you cry? Why are you hiding in my room?"

"No one made me cry," Helaena replied, shaking her head. She hugged her legs, making herself as small as possible.

Rhaegar added two logs to the fireplace. "What did you hear?" he asked gently, knowing how fragile her heart was. She often found a place to hide when she was sad, but this was the first time she had come to his room.

"I heard Father and Mother arguing, very violently," Helaena whispered, her voice barely audible.

It was true; she had heard Viserys and Alicent arguing. Knowing her brother was coming back today, she had sought refuge in his room.

Rhaegar sighed and rubbed her hair. "Don't be afraid. It's normal for couples to quarrel."

"Will I marry the Prince of Dorne?" Helaena asked timidly, leaning her head against him. She knew what marriage meant and had heard stories about the Dornish people that scared her.

"No," Rhaegar reassured her gently. "Targaryens don't need to make such commitments. I will dismiss the Dornish emissary tomorrow."

"Really?" Helaena's eyes sparkled with hope as she looked up at her brother adoringly.

"Really," Rhaegar affirmed, cuddling her in his arms. "Brother is a big umbrella that will help you shelter from the wind and rain."

"Uh-huh," Helaena murmured, overwhelmed with emotion. She grabbed the corner of his coat and buried her head in his chest.

Rhaegar smiled and let her hold him. Soon, he felt the wetness of her tears soaking through his shirt.

He glanced down to comfort her, but to his surprise, she had fallen asleep. "She can really eat and sleep; no wonder she's so plump," Rhaegar thought with a smile.

Carefully, he carried Helaena to the bed and tucked her in. Her delicate features resembled Alicent's, but unlike her mother's slim figure, Helaena had a softness beneath her clothes.

After settling Helaena, Rhaegar shrugged and left the bedroom. He still needed to find his dear sister for some company tonight.

...

The next day.

After breakfast, Rhaenyra and Rhaegar emerged from their room together. At the door, they found Erryk waiting.

"Is Helaena up yet?" Rhaegar asked.

Erryk respectfully replied, "The little princess left early in the morning."

"To the Dragonpit?" Rhaegar guessed, knowing Helaena's reclusive nature.

Erryk shrugged, indicating he was unsure.

"Let's go," Rhaenyra said, taking Rhaegar's hand and raising an eyebrow.

Rhaegar nodded. His father wanted to discuss a marriage alliance and planned to have him meet the Dornish envoy. It felt like he was being used as a pawn.

...

The Throne Room.

Viserys sat on the Iron Throne with a smile on his face. Despite a hangover from the previous night, he woke up in good spirits.

In the center of the hall, a group of performers in elaborate costumes were putting on a show. Two rotund men pretended to be Triarchy pirates, while a tall, skinny man played the role of a Dornishman. In front of them were two comedic dwarfs.

One dwarf, dressed in a black dragon costume, crawled around on the floor. Mushroom, wearing a silver wig and holding a short, stubby wooden sword made to look like Dragon Claw, rode on the other dwarf's back, shouting, "Cannibal, charge!"

The dwarf beneath him yelped and crawled toward the thin man. Viserys watched in amusement, saying, "Mushroom, despite his simple mind, always manages to entertain."

"Yes, it's the jester's duty to amuse the king," Otto agreed with a smile, standing beneath the Iron Throne.

"Arrogant Dornish fool, taste my sword," Mushroom declared, as he swung his wooden sword at the performers, who squealed and fell to the ground, rolling around in mock pain.

"Haha, I, Rhaegar Targaryen, am the strongest. Rhaegar Targaryen is the strongest Dragon Rider," Mushroom proclaimed, raising his wooden sword high.

The performers knelt, kowtowing vigorously and begging, "Young Dragonlord, forgive us!"

"Do you still dare to violate our borders?" Mushroom demanded.

"Never, never," they cried.

"Get lost!" Mushroom commanded.

"Long live the Dragonlord! Long live the Dragonlord!" they chanted as Mushroom continued to ride the crawling dwarf.

Amid their shouts, Viserys suddenly paused. "Does the Young Dragonlord mean Rhaegar?" he asked.

Otto, watching the show, casually responded, "Yes, the prince defeated the Triarchy, earning the title from the troops."

"Young Dragonlord," Viserys mused, a gleam of pride in his eyes.

Realizing the king's mood had shifted, Mushroom quickly dismounted the dwarf and knelt. The other performers followed suit.

"Your Grace, even a mere title signifies the prince's extraordinary bravery," Otto said, waving off the performers.

"You're right, it's only a title," Viserys muttered. Then, smiling again, he added, "But Rhaegar is my eldest son. He deserves this title!"

(Word count: 1,668)