The afternoon sun was warm.
In the Sacred Grove.
*Creak—*
The small gate in the castle's backyard slowly swung open from the inside, and Rhaenyra gracefully stepped out.
She was dressed differently than in the morning.
Her long hair, loosely tied up at the back of her head, had small braids woven into the soft strands, swaying gently with her movements.
She now wore a flowing black gown, its neckline adorned with delicate embellishments that enhanced her regal elegance.
Around her fair neck, she had purposefully put on the Valyrian steel necklace with three dragon heads.
"Rhaegar, hurry up!"
Rhaenyra called out with a bright smile, walking with her hands behind her back toward the heart tree.
After so long apart, she was overjoyed to see him again.
Behind her, Rhaegar stepped through the small gate at a leisurely pace.
Under Rhaenyra's careful styling, his appearance had changed dramatically.
The most noticeable change—
His long, silver-gold hair, which had once cascaded down his back, had been ruthlessly cut into a neat, ear-length style.
All because, while they were bathing, he had casually remarked, "You're stepping on my hair."
But even with the change, Rhaegar's strikingly handsome face remained unaffected.
Dressed in a simple black robe, he exuded a cold yet noble presence.
At that moment, his face was full of resignation as he struggled to carry an armful of soft cushions.
Laboriously, he made his way to the heart tree, carefully arranging the cushions on a flat patch of ground, free of roots, until he had built a large, cozy seating area against the tree trunk.
Seeing his work completed, Rhaenyra tilted her chin up slightly. "Are you holding me, or am I holding you?"
Rhaegar: …
He obediently sat down on the cushions, shaking his head with a wry smile. "I'm not a child anymore."
Rhaenyra leaned into his embrace without hesitation and scoffed, "A spoiled little brat—I don't see how you've grown at all."
Always causing trouble in the bath.
After a brief silence, Rhaenyra lifted her head, curiosity in her eyes. "What exactly are these 'findings' you mentioned?"
Rhaegar had lost his dragon claw, yet he didn't seem to mind.
Clearly, he had found something even more valuable.
Without keeping her in suspense, Rhaegar raised his right hand, and five dusty dragon egg fossils fell to the ground.
Then, from within one of the cushions, he pulled out a green dragon egg he had carefully guarded throughout their journey.
"A dragon egg?"
Rhaenyra's interest was immediately piqued. She picked up each egg, examining them closely, her delicate brows furrowing from time to time.
She quickly recognized that the five dragon egg fossils had long since lost their vitality.
Finally, she took the green dragon egg from Rhaegar's hands. The moment she touched it, she hesitated. "This one is still viable."
She wasn't exaggerating—of all the Targaryens, she had handled the most dragon eggs.
It was easy for her to tell whether an egg was still alive.
"This egg was unearthed alongside the fossils," Rhaegar explained honestly. "It came from House Balerion."
"Balerion… One of the most powerful dragonlord families…"
Rhaenyra murmured softly, cradling the egg like a treasure before suddenly making a firm decision. "Let me keep it."
Rhaegar looked puzzled.
Sitting up from his embrace, Rhaenyra gazed at him seriously. "I want to save it for our future child—to hatch a dragon descended from House Balerion."
"You've already set aside a bronze-colored egg."
Rhaegar wasn't keen on placing this dragon egg, dug up from the Smoking Sea, into a child's cradle.
It should be entrusted to the dragonkeepers of the Dragonpit.
Rhaenyra shook her head, clutching the egg tightly. "I won't have just one child. This one will be for the second."
Afraid he would refuse, she leaned in closer, her cheeks flushing as she whispered against his ear, "I love riding dragons… and I love riding *someone* else too. Who knows? I might end up with a whole army."
As soon as the words left her lips, her face turned bright red, and she used the green dragon egg to hide it.
Rhaegar froze for a moment, his ears turning pink, his voice lowering. "That was Grandmother's line to Grandfather. You're not allowed to copy it."
His grandmother, Alyssa Targaryen, had not been a traditionally beautiful woman, but she was bold and spirited.
Her wedding night with his grandfather, Baelon, had once been the subject of bawdy jokes that spread like wildfire.
That night, the sounds of their passionate union echoed throughout the Red Keep, giving the wedding guests quite the spectacle.
The next morning, Alyssa had boldly declared:
"I was on top of him, riding him over and over. And tonight, I'll enjoy it again—I love riding him."
The "him" in question was, of course, Baelon Targaryen.
They had been deeply in love, spending almost every waking moment together—except when riding dragons.
Most of their time, however, had been spent in their bedchamber.
Alyssa had even tamed the mighty *Red Queen*, Meleys, who had never been ridden before. She once soared through the skies on the dragon's back with her nine-day-old firstborn, Viserys, strapped to her chest.
Unfortunately, she never fulfilled her promise to bear Baelon twenty sons and create an army.
She died of childbirth fever six months after losing their third child.
Rhaegar took Rhaenyra's hand, his grip firm.
He despised the saying that the birthing bed was a woman's battlefield.
To him, *all* battlefields were places he wanted to keep Rhaenyra away from.
"I understand what you mean, but this isn't something anyone can control."
Rhaenyra smiled slightly, her expression turning solemn.
The shadow of her mother's death in childbirth had loomed over her all her life.
But this was a woman's fate—sooner or later, she would have to face it.
And if it was for someone she truly loved, she would summon the courage to endure it.
Sensing her determination, Rhaegar tightened his grip on her hand.
After a moment of silence, he pulled out the Valyrian steel sword *Brightroar* and drove it into the ground beneath the heart tree.
"Valyrian steel?"
Rhaenyra blinked in surprise, reaching out to measure the broad width of the blade. Her sharp eyes landed on the lion-headed pommel.
A thought struck her, but she hesitated to believe it. "Is this… Lannister's *Brightroar*?"
Jason and Tylan Lannister had once pursued her, often boasting about their house's glorious history.
Rhaegar chuckled. "It belongs to House Targaryen now."
Rhaenyra blinked and turned to leave. "I'm sending a raven to the blacksmiths in Qohor to have this sword reforged."
**Lightwhisper** was unearthed from the ruins of the Smoking Sea—no one knew about it except Rhaegar.
Those mercenaries were ignorant and had no recognition of its origin.
Rhaenyra's plan was simple.
**Lightwhisper** must not be exposed; otherwise, House Lannister would undoubtedly demand its return.
While no one knew about it, she would secretly have the sword reforged.
By then, it would simply be Rhaegar's new weapon—no longer House Lannister's **Lightwhisper**.
"Wait, I already sent word to the blacksmiths in Qohor as soon as I left the Smoking Sea."
Rhaegar grabbed the swift-footed Rhaenyra by the wrist.
With a flick of his palm, he conjured a small bunch of fruit as if by magic, shaking it before her eyes.
Rhaenyra examined it curiously but couldn't discern anything special about it.
The fruit resembled cherries but was about the size of lychees, bright red, with two pieces hanging from a single stem.
"I took these as spoils from a sea monster's lair," Rhaegar said seriously as he handed her the fruit. "Eating them will bring you good fortune."
Days had passed since **Lightwhisper** and the sea monster's corpse had been discovered and fully explored.
Checking his system panel, Rhaegar found the exploration logs still intact.
**[Lightwhisper]**
**Exploration progress: 100%**
**"Exploration complete. Please collect the lost treasure."**
**"Collection successful. You have obtained..."**
**[The Lion's Treasure]**
**Rarity: Epic (Purple)**
**Trigger phrase: 'The blood of a king.'**
Rhaegar had tested it with his own blood, but the trigger hadn't activated—likely because he had yet to claim the Iron Throne.
**[Cursed Sea Monster]**
**Exploration progress: 100%**
**"Exploration complete. Please collect the lost treasure."**
**"Collection successful. You have obtained..."**
**[The Sea Monster's Gift]**
**Rarity: Rare (Blue)**
**Trigger phrase: 'A poor sea monster grants a trivial wish.'**
The fruit in Rhaegar's hand was none other than the relic **[The Sea Monster's Gift]**.
It reminded him of the white stag that had once granted him the relic **[Blessing of the Auspicious Beast]**.
Perhaps magical creatures had an affinity for fruit.
Rhaenyra took the fruit hesitantly and brought it to her lips. "I just eat it?"
"That's right," Rhaegar affirmed.
Rhaenyra shot him a glance before popping both pieces into her mouth, one after the other.
She chewed slowly, savoring the taste.
As soon as the fruit settled in her stomach, Rhaegar heard a system notification.
**"Congratulations, relic successfully activated. You have obtained..."**
**[Eternal Beauty]**
**Rarity: Common (White)**
**Effect: 'Preserves appearance, slows aging.'**
**Evaluation: 'Nothing special.'**
A faint white glow seeped into Rhaenyra's abdomen, and Rhaegar fell into silence.
It was rare for him to acquire a **common** relic.
**[The Sea Monster's Gift]** was at least of rare quality—was Rhaenyra just unlucky?
She didn't seem to notice anything unusual and instead asked curiously, "It's sweet and tangy. What does it do?"
Rhaegar glanced at the description and smirked. "It makes you more beautiful."
Since she had consumed the relic, its effects naturally applied to her.
Perhaps the relic's properties had been influenced by Rhaenyra's innermost desires.
**Pop!**
Rhaenyra leaned in and kissed him lightly on the cheek, smiling mischievously. "Always so mysterious."
Suddenly, a familiar girl's voice rang out.
"Ha!…"
Rhaenyra turned her head toward the sound and hushed her voice. "That sounded like Helaena."
Rhaegar put away the dragon egg fossil and **Lightwhisper**, then rose and walked to the side of the large weirwood tree.
On the other side of the godswood, two figures were engaged in a mock swordfight.
Helaena had pursed lips, red-rimmed eyes, and was swinging her wooden sword in frustration.
With every strike, she let out a forceful shout, as if trying to bolster her own confidence.
Opposite her stood Mushroom, the court jester, dressed in his usual ridiculous attire, holding a short and stubby wooden sword. He laughed and played along, matching her strikes with exaggerated movements.
At the sight of the dwarf, Rhaegar instinctively frowned.
Rhaenyra whispered, "Boros Baratheon has been making moves in secret. Otto suggested a marriage alliance between Aegon and Boros's daughter. Alicent, on the other hand, wants Helaena to marry Aegon."
Rhaegar had only just returned and was unaware of recent developments in King's Landing, so Rhaenyra briefly explained.
He listened patiently, then furrowed his brow even deeper. "Baratheon…" he muttered.
The issue lay with Boros Baratheon's disloyalty.
But Aegon and Helaena's marriage was another challenge.
Otto wanted a political marriage, while Alicent leaned toward maintaining family tradition.
It had to be settled soon!
---
Elsewhere, in an open-air corridor…
From this vantage point, one could look out over the godswood.
Aegon and Aemond stood side by side—one tall, one short—watching Helaena wield her wooden sword.
"Mother actually wants me to marry her," Aegon scoffed, then sneered. "She's just an idiot."
"Aegon, she's our sister!" Aemond's tone sharpened in disapproval.
(End of Chapter)