Signs of Black and Green

Signs of Black and Green

Not until dusk did the White Carriage Palace slowly pass through the gates of the Red Keep.

Thud!

Rhaenyra hopped down lightly, turned, and opened her arms with a beaming smile. "Come on, I'll catch you."

After a whole day of fun, the clouds in his mood had finally cleared.

"Are you sure?"

Aemon stood at the edge of the carriage, his eyes full of distrust.

Rhaenyra said breezily, "Just come."

As if she couldn't carry one short, pudgy little thing.

Aemon glanced down at the distance to the ground and gave it serious thought. "Then here I come."

With that, he shut his eyes and tipped forward.

Brimming with confidence, Rhaenyra spread her arms and caught him around his chubby little waist.

Then an unbearable weight came crashing down on her.

Thud!

The pair staggered about. Fortunately, Ser Steve had been watching closely and rushed over to steady them, or they would have both fallen straight into the mud.

"That was close."

Aemon muttered, patting his chest to soothe himself.

Rhaenyra was such a loser!

She had said she would definitely catch him, yet she had nearly launched him flying.

Rhaenyra's mouth twitched as she clasped her slender waist behind her back.

He looked like such a tiny lump, but he was surprisingly solid.

The siblings were both still shaken. They exchanged a tacit glance.

"..."

Rhaenyra rubbed her forehead helplessly and held out her hand. "Let's go."

"Hehe, time to go home and get scolded."

Aemon grinned, expertly taking her soft little hand.

Today had been quite fruitful. He had gained both career prospects and friendship.

Hand in hand, the siblings made a striking pair—one tall and beautiful, the other fair and adorable.

The nobles and ministers they passed were drawn to the pleasing sight and all offered greetings and bows.

Aemon walked with a spring in his step. Sneaking a look at Rhaenyra's satisfied expression, his big eyes rolled.

"What are you looking at?" Rhaenyra was still basking in her joy, her worries cast far behind her.

Of course, I'm thinking about how to sweet-talk you.

Aemon held back a mischievous smile and happily announced, "Rhaenyra, we're the best friends in the whole world."

The words stirred something in Rhaenyra's heart, sending a faint ripple through her beautiful eyes.

"Enough. If we go any slower, we'll miss dinner."

Aemon ran off after teasing her.

Alicent was his good friend, and he would surely have a place in the future Green Party.

Rhaenyra appeared strong on the outside, but inwardly she craved affection and was fragile. For years, she had endured her father's doubts and the Court's criticism.

While there was still an opening, he needed to forge an unbreakable bond with her early on.

Over the next ten years, once the Black and Green Parties entered their strongest period, he could sway with the wind between both sides, quietly build himself up, and then astonish everyone.

What no one noticed was that every move the siblings made after returning to the Red Keep was being watched.

Maegor's Holdfast, the King's Bedchamber.

Alicent stood at the edge of the balcony, watching the two playful figures through the glass windows.

She had waited all day.

Alicent's eyes darkened slightly. She pressed her red lips together, bit down on her pearly teeth, and dug her fingers into each other over her flat stomach.

Before she realized it, faint streaks of blood had appeared between her fingers.

Perhaps even she had not noticed that seeing Aemon and Rhaenyra play so intimately had stirred the jealousy buried deep in her heart.

Creak!

The door opened, and Viserys entered in a fine mood. "Rhaenyra and the others are back. We should go to the feast."

But after he called out to her, his young wife in green did not immediately respond.

Viserys looked startled and was about to step forward to ask.

"I know."

Alicent lowered her head, turned, and moved as swiftly as a gust of wind.

Her behavior left Viserys utterly baffled.

Night fell, and after dinner everyone returned to their rooms to rest.

Aemon patted his round little belly and darted back to his room.

He had acquired quite a few new things and needed to admire them properly.

There was little to say about dinner, except that the Dragonpit and Dreamfyre naturally came up.

When Viserys learned that his nephew had wanted to tame Dreamfyre, the "mother dragon," his initial approval turned to regret at the failure, before finally settling into a cheerful word of advice.

"You're still young. There are more dragons on Dragonstone. Once you're a little older, you can certainly try again."

It had to be said that Viserys was a very contradictory man.

On one hand, he worried about and feared the dragons' power. On the other, he had no choice but to rely on them.

Especially in worldly matters, he possessed an exceptionally "detached" state of mind.

He did not want his daughter Rhaenyra to become obsessed with riding dragons, yet he hoped every male heir in the family would become a Dragonrider.

It was exactly like how he sought to preserve Rhaenyra's position as heir while refusing to grant her any real authority.

Perhaps that was why he was so eager to find his daughter a powerful, dependable match—to make up for her lack of hard power.

The night deepened.

Aemon returned to his room to rest, and the others gradually departed.

Rhaenyra had been tired all day. Just as she was about to return for a nice, comfortable hot bath, her father stopped her.

"Father, is something the matter?"

Rhaenyra gathered up her silver-gold hair as her legs moved beneath the smooth hem of her dress.

Viserys looked hesitant, then smiled. "There is something important I need to discuss with you."

"Just a moment."

Though puzzled, Rhaenyra followed him.

To her, today had been a wonderful day.

Although no one had cared about her at Aegon's Name Day celebration, and all the nobles and ministers had been fawning over her little brother, who still needed his hands to eat porridge.

Aemon, however, was undoubtedly a clever little rascal who had made her very happy.

Especially releasing Dreamfyre—it had filled her dormant heart with the satisfying sense of accomplishment.

Her father had also been unusually gentle and had not gotten angry over the two of them releasing Dreamfyre without permission.

It should be good news.

Rhaenyra silently prayed.

With Viserys leading the way, father and daughter passed through layer after layer of corridors before arriving at the Red Keep's underground Tomb Cellar.

A ring of white candles burned around the enormous altar, illuminating Balerion's black skull.

Rhaenyra looked around, quietly puzzled.

The last time father and daughter had come here was when he apologized for her mother Aemma's death and named her heir to the Iron Throne.

Viserys gazed at Balerion's skull and said sentimentally, "Rhaenyra, you were very happy today. As your father, that makes me happy."

Rhaenyra gave a small nod, sensing that something serious was coming.

"You're nearly of marriageable age. Is there any promising young man you favor?"

Viserys looked earnest.

Rhaenyra's expression changed slightly, and she immediately denied it. "No!"

"That's good."

At her answer, Viserys secretly breathed a sigh of relief.

He had feared his daughter might have some private attachment and bring some blond-haired boy to meet him.

Rumors at Court said his daughter was quite fond of Cole of the Kingsguard.

"Father, you may as well say what you mean."

Rhaenyra's tone was unpleasant. She felt offended.

Viserys smiled with a hint of ingratiation. "You and Aemon are like true siblings when you're together. What if I decide to let him remain in King's Landing?"

"Father!"

Rhaenyra was no fool, and her emotions flared.

"Don't get worked up yet."

Viserys waved a hand and explained, "Aemon is a good child, and Daemon's son. He will be a great help to you."

"So?" Rhaenyra regarded him coldly.

"If you are willing to lower yourself and treat him well."

Viserys arranged his words, trying to be as tactful as possible. "Then he will repay you in kind."

Rhaenyra fell silent at once.

She understood. She was trying hard to suppress the urge to argue.

She saw Aemon as the little brother next door, as a good friend—never in that way.

He was still a chubby child, and when he smiled, his little face looked like a peeled boiled egg.

Her father truly would stop at nothing to secure power.

Seeing his daughter lower her head without a word, Viserys sighed. "That's enough for now. The Kingswood Hunt will proceed as planned tomorrow. Remember to rest early."

Then he turned and left.

Rhaenyra stood there alone, her curved lashes lowered deeply.

She did not want to overpower anyone, nor did she want to be overpowered by anyone.

Yet everyone and everything around her seemed to be urging her to make a choice quickly, to become a hungry dog fighting over the "cake" everyone coveted.

Suddenly, Rhaenyra felt someone watching her.

"Who's there!?"

She abruptly looked up and followed that gaze to the corner behind the altar.

"Ahem."

Grand Maester Mellos stood there. Once discovered, he coughed twice and calmly departed with measured steps.

Rhaenyra's delicate brows drew together. A trace of disbelief surfaced in her beautiful eyes as she quietly clenched her fists.