Chapter 312: The Beginning

He climbed onto the dragon back in front of everyone and flew out of Dragonstone Island.

At first, he wanted to return to King's Landing, discover Larrys' secrets, and cut off his deceitful head with a sword. But he held back. The timing wasn't right, and killing a son of the Hand of the King would draw unwanted attention. The murder of Borros had just occurred, and any connection to it had to be avoided.

With a thousand thoughts swirling in his mind, Rhaegar sighed softly, "This night is not meant to be peaceful."

As he gazed at the dusky scenery, the fiery sunset clouds reflected the Targaryen motto, "Fire and Blood." Rhaegar smiled, deciding to ignore the quarrel below. He turned and stepped into the attic.

"I have already left Dragonstone Island with the Cannibal, so I can't show my face again. After a letter from King's Landing, the heir hurriedly returned to King's Landing, creating an illusion of a storm, I wonder if Alicent, who is anxiously waiting for news of Borros' death, is going to jump at my feet in a hurry to ask for forgiveness?"

...

"I'm not drinking this... get it away..."

In the king's bedroom, a drunken Viserys shook his head, refusing the milk of the poppy offered to him. Alicent held her husband's shoulders and urged him, "You need to take your medicine. A little will help you sleep."

"I don't need it!" Viserys snapped, flinging his hand and knocking the cup away, spilling the thick, milky liquid all over the carpet.

Alicent, startled and disheartened, sighed, "I'll see you later." She left her drunken husband and hurried out of the bedroom, carrying her skirt.

To ease his pain, Mellos had been consulted, and an impromptu cup of poppy milk was prepared. Once outside the room, Alicent wiped the corners of her eyes and walked quickly back to her bedroom down the same hallway.

"Queen."

Inside the bedroom, her personal maid, Terra, greeted her in a low voice. Alicent waved her hand dismissively, "I'm fine, get on with your tasks."

Sitting down heavily on the chair by the round table, she held her forehead with both hands, rubbing her temples with a headache. She had just received word that Rhaegar had flown to King's Landing on his green-eyed black dragon.

"Damn it, what's happening now?" Alicent muttered, her mind in turmoil.

Dragonstone Island was Rhaenyra's territory, and Rhaegar had influence there. With Mellos held captive, all external communications would be intercepted by Dragonstone's maester and wouldn't reach her.

Wracked with anxiety, Alicent called out, "Terra, bring me paper and a pen. I need to write a letter."

She wanted to send a letter to King's Landing, questioning Larys about the success of his operation.

"Yes, my queen," Terra nodded and fetched the letter paper and quill from the drawer.

Knock knock...

A knock on the door startled Alicent. "Who's there?" she called out, tensing up.

After a moment's pause, Otto's deep voice answered, "It's me, Alicent."

"Father?" Alicent murmured, confused.

Creak—

Otto pushed open the door and calmly surveyed the room, his eyes lingering on the pen and paper in Terra's hand. Without a word, he walked straight to his daughter and sat down across from her, asking casually, "Are you writing a letter?"

Alicent bowed her head, afraid to answer.

"Mellos found me. He said you were anxious." Otto explained his visit, not pressing the issue of the letter.

Once Rhaegar had left, Mellos had been sneaked out by Alicent and had taken the opportunity to find Otto, telling him about the Queen's concerns over the raven's messages.

Alicent's heart tightened, and she picked at her nails.

"Alicent, you haven't been able to lie since you were a child," Otto sighed softly, taking her hands in his. "You have beautiful hands. It's a shame to see them ruined by your nervous habit."

Alicent looked down at her hands, ashamed. Her once pristine fingers were now gouged and bloody from her anxious picking.

Otto struck while the iron was hot, his voice gentle, "Tell your father what trouble you're in."

Mellos had taken a risk by finding him, indicating that the issue was serious. Otto felt the need to step in and ensure the well-being of his daughter and their family.

Overcome with relief, Alicent's mental defenses crumbled, and tears welled up in her eyes. "Larys has devised an evil plan, and I'm involved in it."

Facing her father, who exuded reliability and strength, Alicent let her guard down and confessed everything in detail.

For a moment, Otto took a deep breath and glanced discreetly at the brown-haired maid standing at the entrance of the room. He whispered, "Is she trustworthy?"

Alicent, her eyes red and swollen, replied, "Terra has been with me since I was a teenager. We're like sisters."

Otto nodded gently, his expression growing serious. "Don't write any letters. Stay in your room and don't go anywhere."

"But Rhaegar..." Alicent began, her voice filled with worry.

Otto shook his head, his tone firm. "Don't worry about Rhaegar. You haven't been exposed yet. Acting rashly will only draw attention to you."

The cause of Borros' death remained a mystery, and no one could definitively identify the true culprit. As long as Alicent stayed calm and out of the way, she couldn't be implicated. Writing to King's Landing would only increase suspicion.

As for Larys....

He's a schemer with a black heart. It would be best if the Heir, having discovered his treachery, dealt with him swiftly. That would end the trouble once and for all.

...

As the sun set and night enveloped Dragonstone, the Stone Drum Tower lay in darkness.

Inside a bedroom, under the pale moonlight spilling through glazed windows, two figures lay entwined on the floor, their heavy breaths mingling in the quiet night.

Suddenly, a sharp knock interrupted the moment—two light raps followed by one heavy. Footsteps echoed briefly before fading away.

"Hmph!"

With a low growl, the activity in the room ceased. Daemon rose from the floor, wiping sweat from his brow and wrapping a shirt around his waist. He walked to the door and found a note slipped underneath.

Opening the door, he peered into the empty corridor. The messenger was long gone.

"Prince, who dares disturb us at this hour?" a husky voice called from behind. A woman pressed her warm, soft body against his back.

Daemon shrugged off her embrace, moving to the window to examine the note. His expression darkened as he read.

His most trusted informant, White Worm Mysaria, had planted spies everywhere. The message confirmed his suspicions about the new mistress.

Turning, he gazed at the voluptuous woman standing naked on the floor. Alys Rivers, his latest conquest from the Kingswood hunt, met his eyes with a sultry smile.

"Bad news?" she asked, her tone playful.

Daemon feigned sorrow, "It's my brother. His condition has worsened."

"The disease isn't terrible; it just needs the right cure," Alys said, sitting at his feet and looking up seductively.

"You mentioned a secret recipe for eternal youth and healing," Daemon mused, cupping her chin.

"No one heals better than me," she purred. "The king's injuries are from a curse. Dragon blood can cure him."

"Dragon blood is as hot as lava. My brother can't endure it," Daemon replied, testing her.

Alys seemed unfazed, resting her head on his thigh. "Not the beasts' blood. Targaryen blood."

"Targaryen blood?" Daemon's eyes flashed with cold fury. He squeezed her neck roughly.

"No! That's not what I meant..." Alys struggled, her face contorted in pain. "You can use a bastard, as long as the bloodline is pure."

Daemon pushed her away, leaping from the window's edge. "My brother won't allow such evil sorcery. Stay away from him, or I'll have your head."

He had accepted Alys as a mistress for her beauty, but her true nature was now revealed. The so-called cure was nothing more than a blood sacrifice, and Daemon wanted no part of it.

Not a single word from the forest witch could be trusted.

...

In the dimly lit corridor, a silvery blonde figure quietly slipped out.

"Strange, there's no token in father's room," Aemond muttered, his face crumpled with frustration. He was still seething from Aegon's taunts earlier that evening.

With his older brother Rhaegar's unfortunate departure, Aemond feared there would be no one to help him tame a dragon. Tossing and turning in his bed, unable to sleep, he decided to sneak off to Dragonmont and tame a dragon on his own.

Scratching his head, Aemond brightened up. "Rhaenyra is the Princess of Dragonstone. The token for commanding the Dragonkeepers must be in her hands."

Dragonstone Island's castle, the black stone gate, and Dragonmont were all patrolled by Dragonkeepers. Without the token, he couldn't sneak out.

Determined, Aemond quietly descended the stairs and reached Rhaenyra's door.

Knock knock...

Cautiously, he knocked on the door, hoping she wasn't in her room. With Rhaegar away from the island, there was a good chance Rhaenyra would be with her twin adopted daughters, putting them to bed.

After a few moments of silence, Aemond's heart leapt with joy. He tiptoed to the door and gently pushed it open.

Crunch—

The door creaked slightly as it opened, revealing a room lit by a dozen smoked candles but devoid of any human presence.

"Perfect!" Aemond cheered softly, quickly rummaging through the room with nimble hands. He searched the bed, the closet, and the dresser.

Finally, in the first drawer of the dresser, he found the dark iron token. Picking it up, he kissed it in triumph. "Dragonmont, here I come!"

Returning the room to its original state, he hurried off. His first stop was the castle entrance, where a group of patrolling Dragonkeepers intercepted him.

With a smug look, Aemond raised the token and declared, "I have the token. Send two men to escort me to Dragonmont!"

The ten-man team of Dragonkeepers exchanged puzzled glances. Their captain's eyes flickered with recognition, and he nodded. "Yes, Prince."

Just like that, Aemond slipped out of the castle, his heart pounding with excitement and anticipation.

(Word count: 1,695)