Chapter 220: Prelude to the Massacre

The Next Day

Early the next morning, Rhaegar returned to the Red Keep to meet his father, who had just woken up. Rhaegar had arrived in King's Landing too late the previous night and had stayed at the Dragonpit.

At this time, Viserys was enjoying breakfast in his loose pajamas, while Grand Maester Mellos stood by, reading a letter aloud.

"If the Seven Kingdoms want to attack Essos, they will surely meet fierce resistance..."

Rhaegar arrived just in time to hear these words.

He knocked twice on the door and called out, "Father, I have urgent business to discuss."

"Come in, Rhaegar," Viserys responded, his voice tense.

Pushing the door open, Rhaegar saw his father holding a knife and fork, looking deeply troubled. The moment he saw Rhaegar, Viserys immediately questioned, "Who told you to declare war on Essos? Do you want to start a world war between the continents?"

Rhaegar sighed and explained, "Not Essos, Father. I declared war on the Triarchy, intending to strike Tyrosh directly."

"In the eyes of the world, it's all the same," Viserys snapped. "Invading Tyrosh will make all the Free Cities hostile to the Targaryens."

"I explained our reasons in my letter. The Triarchy started this chaos," Rhaegar argued. "They're using poison to threaten us. Is that not in the letter?"

He is not afraid of getting poisoned, but he would not tolerate such an underhanded threat.

"Poisoning?" Viserys was taken aback and looked to Mellos for confirmation.

Mellos skimmed through the letter and replied, "It's not mentioned. The letter focuses on the public opinion attack by the Triarchy."

Viserys put down his utensils and, with a mix of concern and anger, asked, "Rhaegar, has the Triarchy tried to poison you?"

Rhaegar, feeling his father's worry, replied, "Not yet. But I intend to eliminate the threat before it can harm us."

Viserys sighed with relief, then returned to the contents of the letter with renewed frustration. "The Battle of the Stepstones was costly. I cannot support expanding this conflict."

"Father, I've already sent the letters to the nine Free Cities," Rhaegar stated firmly. "If the Triarchy doesn't withdraw from the Stepstones by the deadline, I will counterattack."

The Stepstones had long been a thorn in the Targaryen Dynasty's side. Rhaegar's determination was not just for himself, but for the future stability of the realm.

Seeing the resolve in his son's eyes, Viserys felt a wave of helplessness. "This is my final warning: do not invade Essos, or I will strip you of your military command."

"Father, we have dragons and a capable army. There's no need to worry," Rhaegar countered, his voice rising with conviction. "We can end this conflict."

"I said no!" Viserys slammed his hand on the dining table, causing his silverware to clatter to the ground.

Rhaegar tilted his head back and closed his eyes, struggling to contain his frustration. After a moment, he shook his head and forced a smile. "Fine, I'll handle it myself."

He turned and walked out.

"Rhaegar, did you hear what I said?" Viserys shouted after him.

"Loud and clear," Rhaegar replied, his voice laced with disappointment, as he quickened his pace.

Viserys was about to yell again, but Rhaegar was already gone.

...

Rhaegar walked out of the room, sighing deeply, his hand running through his hair in frustration as he descended the stairs.

"Rhaegar, when did you get back?" came Jeyne's surprised voice from behind him.

He glanced back briefly. "Just now."

"Have the Stepstones stabilized?" Jeyne asked, her smile bright.

Rhaegar, in no mood for conversation, replied curtly, "I still have something to do. I'll leave now."

Before Jeyne could say more, Rhaegar turned and walked away, not looking back.

Watching his retreating figure, Jeyne tilted her head, murmuring to herself, "Why does he seem so troubled?"

Her keen senses picked up on Rhaegar's unease.

...

The Back Garden

Unconsciously, Rhaegar found himself among the thick beams of the fishwood. He muttered to himself, "I need to rally an armed force quickly." His mind raced, pondering potential supporters.

"Prince, good to see you again," a familiar voice interrupted his thoughts.

Rhaegar turned to see Larys sitting on a nearby pavilion fence, a fake smile playing at the corner of his mouth. "Larys, what do you want?" Rhaegar asked directly.

Larys, leaning on his scepter, approached with a limp. "As you know, those who have difficulty walking often hear the most interesting things," he said cryptically.

Rhaegar regarded him warily, aware of Larys's knack for gathering intelligence and weaving schemes. "Perhaps I can help with your problem," Larys offered, bowing humbly.

"Go on," Rhaegar prompted, his eyes narrowing with interest.

"The King abhors war and will never support your plans," Larys began. "To win a battle, you need both dragons and soldiers."

"I have only one dragon and very few soldiers," Rhaegar admitted. The forces stationed at the Stepstones were minimal, insufficient for a full-scale assault on the Triarchy.

Larys smiled. "King's Landing is a cauldron, full of hidden resources," he hinted, waiting for Rhaegar to inquire further. But Rhaegar simply gestured for him to continue, wary of appearing too eager.

Larys, slightly frustrated, continued, "Princess Rhaenyra commands a formidable force, rivaling your own."

"The royal fleet?" Rhaegar asked, frowning. The fleet funded by Dragonstone's taxes comprised a dozen warships and over a thousand men.

"More than that," Larys said, his smile widening. "There are two thousand Gold Cloaks in King's Landing, commanded by my brother, Harwin."

"So?" Rhaegar pressed.

"My brother has sworn unwavering loyalty to Princess Rhaenyra," Larys said, tapping his scepter rhythmically.

Rhaegar studied Larys in silence, then suddenly drew his sword, pressing the blade against Larys's neck. "I hear provocation in your words," he said icily.

King's Landing's own guardians, the Golden Cloaks, wouldn't be easily trespassed upon.

Also, Harwin, transferred to the Riverlands, he understood the actual situation from Maynard's report.

Larys's words were loaded. Was he trying to sow discord between him and Rhaenyra, or did he have a darker motive - to use a borrowed sword to eliminate Harwin?

Larys's smile faltered, his heartbeat quickening. "Prince, it's not a bad idea," he stammered.

"It's a terrible idea," Rhaegar retorted, not trusting Larys, who had ties to Alicent. He raised the sword, letting the cold flat of the blade tap Larys's cheek. "For the sake of Lord Lyonel, I'll let this slide. But next time, think before you speak."

Sheathing his sword, Rhaegar turned to leave. "Where are you going, Prince?" Larys called after him, touching his cheek.

"Dragonstone," Rhaegar replied, not looking back.

...

The sun gradually rose, casting its golden light over Dragonstone Island. A dark dragon shadow appeared in the sky, soaring above the castle.

"Land," Rhaegar commanded. The Cannibal obeyed, descending to the cliff edge by the castle.

Rhaegar dismounted and entered the castle, seeking out Rhaenyra. As he stepped inside the gates, he heard her voice.

"Rhaegar, what are you doing here?" Rhaenyra called from the handrail of the second-floor stairs, her eyes shining with surprise and delight. She had only returned to Dragonstone the previous day and was overjoyed to see her brother so soon.

...

As dusk fell, the two siblings sat together on the open-air terrace, gazing at the beautiful coastline. Rhaenyra nestled her head against Rhaegar's shoulder.

"Rhaegar, you should be more cautious," she murmured softly. "A counterattack is too dangerous."

"I have to go," Rhaegar replied, his eyes fixed on the setting sun, feeling its fading warmth.

Rhaenyra lifted her head, her voice filled with concern. "You're alone, and the royal fleet is under Father's command. I can't mobilize it."

"It's alright," Rhaegar said, shaking his head.

Determined, Rhaenyra clutched his sleeve. "I'll ride Syrax to help you."

Rhaegar gently squeezed her hand. "You have to stay here. If anything happens to me, you're the heir."

"Rhaegar! Don't talk like that," Rhaenyra said angrily. "Stop your plans and apologize to Father."

"It was just an analogy," Rhaegar replied, his forehead damp with sweat. "One of us has to stay with Father. You can't take the risk."

"I won't agree to you going into danger either!" Rhaenyra's eyes widened with defiance.

Rhaegar leaned closer, his voice softening. "Sister, you should support me."

"I just want to kick your ass," Rhaenyra retorted, her cheeks flushing slightly.

Rhaegar stood up, releasing her hand and taking a deep breath. "Don't worry, I have a complete plan, though it's a bit risky."

As he descended the stairs, he added, "I've arranged for a maid to assist you. She'll arrive shortly."

Ignoring Rhaenyra's protests, Rhaegar made his way to the east coast of Dragonstone Island. He was determined to find a strong ally for the battles ahead.

...

The sky blazed with fiery clouds as dusk settled over the land. Despite the late hour, the oppressive summer heat lingered, causing beads of sweat to form on those outside.

A dark dragon shadow flashed across the sky, stirring a cool breeze in its wake as Rhaegar returned to King's Landing. He was not there to reconsider his plans, but to mobilize his troops.

Upon reaching the Dragonpit, Rhaegar summoned Maynard. "Take all the Dragonkeepers with you. Ships are waiting in the harbor," he ordered. With no other troops available, the Dragonkeepers were his last resort.

Maynard accepted the mission, quickly rallying the Dragonkeepers. Just then, the gate of the Dragonpit creaked open.

"Rhaegar, you are really here," a familiar female voice called out.

Rhaegar turned to see Jeyne standing at the entrance, her eyes sparkling with concern.

(Word count: 1,591)