Viserys's Attention

Viserys's Attention

Cole froze as a child scolded him in the tone of an adult.

Annoyed, he opened his mouth, intending to defend his actions.

Bang!

A fan-sized hand shoved against his chest, and a towering figure loomed over him.

Gonsal had appeared at some point, his face dark as he said, "White Cloak, you're blocking our prince's path!"

As he spoke, he stepped forward arrogantly and forcefully drove the pretty boy back.

Cole was startled, his steel-needle stubble nearly poking Gonsal in the face.

The Castle Forecourt was crowded, and this scene naturally caught the eyes of foreign dignitaries and guests.

A show to watch!

People nearby immediately swarmed over, eagerly gathering around to watch and gossip.

Aemon looked up in surprise. "Gonsal, you're here?"

"Mm."

Gonsal replied blandly, his gaze fixed on the White Knight, who still looked unconvinced.

It turned out that the three-man guard team had been left in the outer courtyard. The other two had gone to tidy up the rooms and wait.

The big man had wandered around alone, taking the chance to mooch some of the Red Keep's food and drink.

By chance, he saw someone picking on his prince again.

"Ptooey!"

Right in front of the White Knight, Gonsal curled his thick lips and arrogantly spat on the ground.

He was already in a bad mood from working for someone else, so this was the perfect chance to vent on an easy target.

Faced with such blatant humiliation, Cole's face turned livid, and he immediately gripped the sword at his waist.

"You can try me," Gonsal said with a grin.

His life was worthless anyway. If someone refused to submit, he fought.

Cole looked around, trembling with rage.

If not for the onlookers surrounding them, he would have loved to kill this brute on the spot.

Caught between the two, Aemon looked at Gonsal with delighted eyes.

Look at that world-weary face. Even though it was written all over with a worker's resentment toward life, he still chose to defend his duty.

Then he looked at Gonsal and Cole standing face-to-face. Gonsal was more than a head taller than the tall, valiant Cole, his burly body like a fortress.

Is this the sense of security that comes with the "Bronze Giant"? Aemon nearly clapped in applause.

"Cole, what are you doing!?"

Just as the conflict was about to escalate, a vigorous roar suddenly rang out.

Aemon turned around and quickly sized up the newcomer.

A tall, middle-aged man nearing fifty strode in through the Red Keep's gate, his presence imposing. He wore the same silver armor and white cloak that symbolized honor.

Ser Harold Westerling, Lord Commander of the Kingsguard.

Seeing his superior, Cole's expression turned strange as he lowered his head in greeting. "Lord Commander."

"I asked what is going on, Cole."

Harold's face was stern, showing no mercy whatsoever.

Cole lowered his head even further and instinctively took a step back.

By now, he knew he had run into someone he could not afford to provoke.

Aemon watched as though nothing had happened, curious to see how the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard would handle this.

"Prince, he didn't delay your valuable time, did he?"

Harold turned to him, his expression becoming kindly as he asked.

Cole was a newly appointed Kingsguard. Queen Aemma had already passed away by the time he donned the white cloak, so it was normal that he had never seen Prince Aemon and caused this conflict.

Still, he needed to be corrected in time.

"It's nothing serious."

Aemon nodded lightly and greeted him. "It's been a long time, Ser."

Harold removed his helmet and secretly breathed a sigh of relief.

It was good that he was not holding it against him.

Just then, another graceful figure entered through the Red Keep's gate, curiously watching the scene.

Aemon spotted her, and his expression flickered in surprise.

She was a young silver-haired girl wearing a black Dragon Riding Suit. As she walked, she pulled off her gloves with her long legs.

She was stunningly beautiful, with delicate, lovely features and skin so fair it seemed ready to break at a touch.

She had perfectly inherited the inhuman beauty of the Targaryen Family, with almost no flaws.

Rhaenyra Targaryen tilted her head, also studying the Little One who was looking at her.

The same silver hair and violet eyes—their blood drew them toward one another.

After waiting a moment, Aemon was still the first to recognize her. "Rhaenyra."

At that, Rhaenyra's beautiful eyes lit up. Startled and delighted, she said, "Aemon, it really is you!"

Her long legs moved even faster, and her previously gloomy mood was swept away.

She had not seen this Little One in a long time.

When he recognized her, Aemon smiled and stepped forward to meet her. "Yeah. You rode out on your dragon this morning. You looked so impressive."

Rhaenyra's expression changed slightly, and she hesitated. "I didn't... run into your ship, did I?"

"Mm-hm."

Aemon rolled his eyes. So you knew!

"Sorry. I was in a bad mood then. I didn't know you were there too."

Rhaenyra hurriedly apologized, reaching out to rub his little head.

Soft and fluffy. The feel was pretty nice.

"I forgive you. Make it up to me later." Aemon was very generous, making it clear that he did not hold grudges.

As the two chatted enthusiastically, the onlookers gradually dispersed.

Harold's expression did not change as he quietly gave Cole a look. Cole silently left.

The princess had arrived, so the matter was more or less over.

Aemon noticed it keenly but could not be bothered to pursue it further.

It was not a big deal anyway. Cole was the one who had suffered, and no amount of fuss would get anyone's head chopped off.

"Rhaenyra, did you just come back from the Dragonpit?"

Aemon still had important business to attend to. Taking Rhaenyra's soft little hand, he looked at her with a face full of admiration. "I just got back. Can you take me to the Dragonpit for a look?"

Even a skull from Balerion, the Black Dread, could yield a hundred points of essence. Even if living dragons could not compare to it, their bodies should still absorb quite a bit of magic power, right?

He was going to make a killing.

Rhaenyra naturally held his little claw and led him toward Maegor's Holdfast. "No problem, but it's already quite late today."

"Then another day. Take me with you."

Aemon was never picky. He had plenty of patience and methods.

Inside the King's Bedchamber, candlelight flickered.

After a tiring day, Viserys Targaryen reclined comfortably in his chair and began chatting. "Do you think what I said is feasible?"

He was the fifth King of the Iron Throne, Viserys I of the Targaryen Family.

His silver-gold hair hung messily over his shoulders, fine stubble covered his chin, and though his features were ordinary, he looked exceptionally kind.

At first glance, he seemed more like a wealthy gentleman.

"You mean Aemon's matter?"

Alicent sat beside him, lost in thought. Hearing him, she asked in return.

"Yes, he's a good candidate."

Viserys was all smiles, his bandaged ring finger raised as he spoke. He seemed to be in an excellent mood. "The Small Council has differing opinions, but at least it's a good start."

He had recently been so worried about his daughter's marriage that he could hardly sleep. At last, there was some progress.

Rhaenyra was twelve this year. In another two years, she would be considered an adult. Nobles across the realm had already begun sending marriage proposals in advance.

The letters stacked higher than the table.

Alicent frowned slightly and asked cautiously, "My father agrees as well?"

"Of course." Viserys answered at once, his smile growing wider.

Otto Hightower's support had come as a surprise.

Alicent silently lowered her head, concealing the doubt in her eyes. She suggested, "Aemon is still young. Perhaps there are better candidates."

Stepmothers and stepdaughters had never gotten along well.

Aemon was an innocent child. She did not want to drag the Little One entrusted to her care by King Jaehaerys into this.

Viserys sat up straight. Though puzzled, he feigned calm and smiled. "Before the Small Council, Ser Laenor of the Velaryon Family was also discussed. He is a possible candidate as well."

Though he said so, his deeply furrowed brows showed that the person he mentioned was not the candidate he truly favored.

Aemon had Runestone's support behind him, and he also represented his younger brother, Daemon.

Choosing him would not only strengthen the royal family's power, but also mend the relationship between the brothers.

By comparison, Laenor was the son of Sea Snake Corlys.

The Velaryon Family of Driftmark was undoubtedly a mountain weighing heavily on his heart.

I just received the notification that the new book has been added to the library. Qidian's process is so complicated now!

Zhou Zhou just wants to write quietly and ignore everything outside.

All I ask for is peaceful days.

--

This is a lighthearted book, so the plot will be simpler and more cheerful. There will not be any complicated stuff.

If you do not like it, go read the fantasy section. Do not stir up trouble.

Some readers really have no sense of boundaries.