Helena was his sister, the one who had spent the most time with him among his siblings.
Aegon scoffed, dismissively saying, "We have nothing in common."
"She tamed Dreamfyre. She's a true Targaryen," Aemond replied in an even tone, laced with a hint of admiration.
Aegon glanced sideways at him and said indifferently, "Then you should marry her."
Having grown up in the shadow of his eldest brother, Rhaegar, he had never harbored any ambition for power.
He wasn't done indulging himself yet—his pursuit was a life of reckless pleasure.
Aemond fell silent for a moment, his hands clenched into fists beneath his green cloak.
He gazed down at Helena, whose silver-gold curls swayed with her movements as she meticulously swung a wooden sword.
He knew Helena wasn't a fool—she just sometimes got lost in her own world.
She had overheard their mother arguing with Aegon, which was why she had come to the godswood to vent her frustration through sword practice.
Aegon continued his mocking remarks beside him, constantly provoking his emotions.
Lifting his head, Aemond spoke calmly, "I would be willing to fulfill my duty if Mother decided to betroth us."
He didn't yet understand the complexities of love, but he felt a certain kinship with Helena, a sense of shared solitude.
If he were asked to carry out the family tradition, he wouldn't reject it like Aegon did.
"If? Ha..." Aegon smirked.
Their mother wanted to force Helena onto him, expecting him to take care of their "unusual" sibling.
For now, Aemond wasn't in a position to take his place.
Having revealed part of his inner thoughts, Aemond no longer hid his true nature beneath a facade of mediocrity. He spoke with composed determination, "It would strengthen the family and maintain the purity of Valyrian blood."
Aegon was startled by his words and retorted in disgust, "She's an idiot."
"She could very well be your future wife," Aemond countered seriously, locking eyes with him.
"Tsk, tsk."
Aegon clicked his tongue, as if seeing his younger brother in a new light.
So, he had grown bold—bold enough to talk back.
That thought sparked irritation within him, making him want to mock Aemond further.
Lowering himself slightly, Aegon brought his face level with Aemond's, his expression playful. "You know, we do have one thing in common—we both like long-legged beauties."
He leaned in close, his lips nearly brushing Aemond's ear as he smirked wickedly. "Remember? Make sure to get it nice and wet."
It was a crude lesson from the time Aegon had taken Aemond to a brothel on a whim.
Aemond recognized the taunting undertone but remained silent, lowering his head.
"Tch, how boring."
Disappointed by the lack of reaction, Aegon scowled and turned to leave on his own.
His brother was just as dull-witted as Helena.
Aemond watched his retreating figure, disappointment flickering in his eyes as he murmured, "Aegon..."
In his untested heart, he had believed that he, Aegon, Helena, and Daeron should be the closest of kin—
Just like their half-sister Rhaenyra and half-brother Rhaegar, who shared a deep bond.
That was the idea their mother, Alicent, had instilled in him. And he had truly believed it.
But Aegon's vile nature and irresponsible attitude filled him with disillusionment.
After a brief silence, a commotion stirred within the godswood.
Helena had knocked the wooden sword out of the fool Mushroom's hands and, panting, walked out of sight beyond the open-air corridor.
Watching her retreating figure, Aemond remained expressionless, his mind occupied with their mother's words about family.
But no one cared about him.
Then, he thought of the one thing that set him apart from his siblings.
Lowering his head, he muttered to himself, "I have no dragon."
…
After finishing her sparring match, Helena was utterly exhausted, struggling to carry her wooden sword as she made her way back.
She was too tired. She just wanted to drink a chilled sweet wine and collapse onto her bed, never to get up again.
"Helena."
The girl, her head lowered as she passed by the weirwood, was startled when Rhaegar's voice called out to her.
"Hm? Brother?"
Helena's head shot up in surprise, her eyes scanning the area until she spotted the handsome young man beneath the weirwood.
"Brother, I thought I wouldn't see you until dinner."
Her previous gloom disappeared, and she looked up at him in delight.
Just as she finished speaking, she paused slightly, as if noticing something unusual, and carefully examined Rhaegar, who was clad in black.
Pale skin, sharply defined features, and an air of cold melancholy…
Finally, her slender fingers pointed at his silver-gold hair, her eyes widening in curiosity.
Her brother's long hair was gone, replaced by a short, neatly cut style.
Rhaegar beckoned her closer with a relaxed gesture. "I saw you practicing your swordplay earlier."
"Oh, just fooling around."
Embarrassed that her playful sword training had been discovered, Helena stammered a denial, as if her secret had been exposed.
Her eyes darted away and landed on Rhaenyra, who was sitting on the other side of the weirwood, cradling a green dragon egg.
In a small voice, she greeted, "Sister."
Rhaenyra nodded, reclining against a cushion.
Not wanting Helena to feel awkward, Rhaegar changed the subject. "Are you upset because of Aegon?"
Helena had always been quiet, never as lively as other girls.
For her to pick up a wooden sword and train today, something must have been bothering her.
"No," she said unconvincingly, shaking her head.
Seeing her looking so much like a dejected child, Rhaegar sighed inwardly and took her small hand in his.
Helena let go of the wooden sword and allowed him to lead her closer.
"Do you want to talk to me about it?"
Rhaegar knelt slightly so they were at eye level.
Because of her earlier training, Helena's cheeks were flushed, a light sweat forming on her forehead. Her slightly curled hair was tied into a bun.
At that moment, she gazed at him with large, watery eyes.
As their eyes met, Rhaegar saw the sorrow she was trying to hide. He spoke softly, "If something is troubling you, you must tell me."
He already knew the cause of her distress.
The Baratheon family's disrespect had led to Aegon's proposed betrothal.
Alicent had, in turn, imposed her control over the fates of both her son and daughter.
He would address the Baratheon issue at the small council meeting.
A political marriage wasn't the only way to secure stability.
Most importantly, no one should have to be sacrificed for it.
Rhaegar ruffled Helena's hair gently, emphasizing, "The dragonlords should never have to sacrifice one of their own."
---
The family now has more than a dozen dragons and several dragonriders capable of going into battle.
The journey across the Smoky Sea led to the discovery of the Balerion family's "Forbidden Curse," which will once again strengthen the Targaryens.
What he needed to do was protect his siblings, unite them, and forge all the Targaryens into a single, unbreakable force.
Among Alicent's children, Helaena was the first to grow close to him, making her an essential part of this bond.
He didn't want Helaena to suffer.
"Brother..."
Sensing the confidence radiating from Rhaegar, Helaena was deeply moved. Her voice was low as she murmured, "Mother wants me to marry Aegon. They had a big argument over it."
Rhaegar's eyes flickered, detecting the underlying implications.
Aegon was unwilling to follow the family's traditions and marry Helaena.
It made sense—Aegon had never thought much of Helaena since childhood, and Rhaegar had often had to discipline him for it.
After a brief pause, Rhaegar didn't bother asking the foolish question, "Do you want to marry Aegon?" Instead, he pulled her small head into his embrace and gently probed, "Did they argue in front of you?"
"Mhm~" Helaena nodded vigorously, burying her face in her brother's chest.
"They should have asked for your opinion."
Rhaegar stroked Helaena's silver hair with care. "Good girl, I knew you must have felt wronged."
"Mhm~"
Helaena let out a soft whimper, her eyes quickly welling up with tears as she bit her lip to keep from crying.
She wasn't entirely detached from the world—she was just lost in her own thoughts.
Her mother and Aegon's argument had reached her ears, piercing straight into her heart.
"Shh! Don't cry."
Rhaegar cupped Helaena's face, gently wiping away the tears at the corners of her eyes. With a serious tone, he said, "If you want to escape this predicament, you have to be brave first."
He could intervene in House Baratheon's proposed marriage alliance with Aegon.
But it would be difficult to change Alicent's plans for her children's marriages.
Since Aegon and Helaena already despised each other, the best course was to encourage Helaena to find her own path and let things unfold naturally.
Helaena stared blankly, her thoughts adrift. "Brave..."
Curled up in her brother's arms, she tightened her grip on her wooden sword, contemplating what bravery truly meant.
...
That evening, in celebration of Rhaegar's return, the Red Keep hosted a grand banquet.
Viserys made a grand gesture, inviting numerous guests with plans for a night of revelry.
After just a few drinks, he couldn't suppress his coughing, his face turning red from the effort.
"Drink slower," Alicent said softly, dabbing the corners of his mouth with a handkerchief.
Viserys forced a wry smile, still stubbornly insisting, "I can drink anyone under the table."
Sitting just below the high seat, Rhaegar frowned, watching the scene with concern.
As his father aged, his once-sturdy body was deteriorating.
The wounds inflicted by the Iron Throne refused to heal, leaving him in constant pain.
Excessive drinking and indulgence had only worsened his condition.
"Cheer up. This banquet is for you," Rhaenyra whispered, leaning in close beside him.
Rhaegar smoothed his furrowed brow and clinked his cup against hers.
"The Small Council is meeting tomorrow—don't drink too much."
Rhaenyra's eyes gleamed as she placed a few of his favorite dishes on his plate.
Rhaegar sighed with a helpless smile. "Of course."
After eating a little, the banquet moved into the dancing segment.
Taking advantage of the distraction, Rhaegar discreetly retrieved a parchment from his space ring—a relic left behind by the Shadowbinders—flipping to the page containing ancient knowledge of House Balerion.
The inscriptions on the stone wall didn't just document the "Forbidden Curse," but also included insights about dragons that even the Targaryens lacked.
He vaguely recalled a passage mentioning the coexistence between dragons and their riders.
Riders influenced their dragons' emotions, and dragons, in turn, affected their riders' will.
Over prolonged contact, they could even alter each other's physical states.
Rhaegar found this theory credible.
His own bloodline had been influenced by his bond with the Devourer, gradually strengthening over time.
Perhaps his father could benefit from exposure to the family's dragons.
It might even help him recover.
...
The next morning.
Council Chamber.
Sunlight streamed through the stained-glass windows, casting brilliant patterns onto the Small Council's long table.
*Clang—*
A black stone with green dragon markings was dropped into the voting urn.
Today, Rhaegar wore a white inner tunic paired with a striking red-striped coat. His calm gaze swept across the room.
As the Crown Prince, his seat at the Small Council was always at his father's left hand.
Across from him sat the Hand of the King, Lyonel Strong.
Rhaegar offered a subtle smile, nodding in acknowledgment to each of the Small Council members before settling his eyes on the two women at the table.
Rhaenyra, dressed in an off-shoulder red gown, sat beside him.
Alicent, her expression composed, sat at her husband's side, deliberately keeping her distance from the council members.
(End of Chapter)