"Clubfoot" Larys

Many people were in heavy spirits that day.

Alicent felt uneasy, hoping Aemon was not truly angry.

Of all the people she knew, he was her only remaining friend.

Rhaenyra was filled with rage, sickened by Duke Jason's arrogant declaration.

She hated that she had not been born a boy. Perhaps then her father and everyone else would have faith in her.

Instead of treating her as a burden, a juicy prize everyone coveted.

Viserys was undoubtedly the most furious.

He spent the entire afternoon gulping down wine, feeling as though everyone was mocking and humiliating him.

During this Kingswood Hunt hosted by the royal family, every member of the royal family was troubled.

There was only one exception!

King's Wood, a clearing.

"Don't run! Stop, big rabbit!"

Aemon's little face was flushed with excitement as he drew his bow with both hands and chased after a rabbit fleeing wildly.

Startled, the rabbit bolted at astonishing speed.

Whoosh!

Aemon released the arrow. It grazed the rabbit's tail and missed.

The frightened rabbit sprang up and zigzagged away.

"Stop! Don't run!"

Like a little hunter, Aemon fired a second arrow.

Whoosh!

The arrow flew over the rabbit's head and embedded itself a step ahead.

The rabbit's eyes went wide as it fled even more desperately.

Pfft!

The third arrow came down close behind the second, swift and accurate, striking the rabbit and piercing through its fur and belly.

Aemon still held his bow drawn as he cheered excitedly, "Great! I hit it!"

He slung his wooden bow over his shoulder with practiced flair, then trotted over on his short little legs to pick up the rabbit.

It was surprisingly heavy.

"Prince, you really caught something?"

Ser Steve hurried over from afar, utterly astonished.

Aemon put his hands on his hips and laughed proudly. "Of course. Aren't I amazing?"

The little fellow could not have looked prouder.

Three arrows in a row—he really was a genius.

Ser Steve took the rabbit, which had already breathed its last, and handed him a handful of red berries instead. Admiringly, he said, "That's right. The prince is exceptionally gifted. It seems you inherited Lady Rhea's skills."

"Not really."

Aemon waved a hand, pretending to be modest.

Yet his chin was nearly raised to the sky, his fair little neck stretching back with all its might.

He had not expected his talent to be so great.

Ser Steve did not dare laugh at him. He now had a direct appreciation for the prince's talent.

"Ser, let's take another look around."

After showing off, Aemon gnawed on berries while his eyes darted everywhere.

He was like a little hamster that loved hoarding food, eating from the bowl while eyeing the pot.

Ser Steve did not object and planned to take the prince back to join the main group.

Squeak, squeak!

Suddenly, a burst of noisy sounds came from the nearby bushes.

Aemon's face lit up as he followed the sound.

A furry Gold-Nosed Rat poked its head out, wiggled its rump, and slipped into the grass.

"What good thing did Mousie bring me?"

Aemon crouched down and held out his little hand.

Squeak, squeak.

The Gold-Nosed Rat's tiny eyes were lively as it climbed up his palm and onto its master's shoulder.

Aemon rubbed it, and a strand of silky white fur appeared in his hand.

"Huh, what's this?"

Aemon examined it carefully. It seemed to be the fur of some animal.

Squeak, squeak!

The Gold-Nosed Rat was incredibly clever. One forepaw tugged at its master's silver-gold hair while the other jabbed fiercely in a certain direction.

Aemon only half understood and guessed, "You mean it's over there?"

Squeak, squeak.

The Gold-Nosed Rat nodded its tiny head repeatedly, as clever as a human child.

Seeing this, Ser Steve marveled, "Prince, your little rat is truly extraordinary."

"Mousie is very good. It can even find things to feed me."

Aemon giggled and decided, "Let's go take a look."

Ser Steve had no objection and led the White Horse across the clearing.

Before long, they arrived beside a small stream.

Squeak, squeak.

The Gold-Nosed Rat climbed down his clothes to the ground and ran to a fresh pile of dung, sniffing around it.

Ser Steve stepped forward to inspect it. Finding the same silky white fur beside the dung, he said in surprise, "It doesn't look like a horse. It looks more like a deer."

As a Kingsguard, such skills were nothing difficult.

Aemon had a flash of inspiration and asked softly, "Can we find it?"

He knew there truly was a White Hart in the King's Wood.

An Auspicious Beast symbolizing kingship ought to have some kind of magical bonus, right?

Ser Steve looked around and shook his head. "No. Though the dung is fresh, its owner left no tracks."

"Oh." Aemon accepted the analysis.

Ser Steve was no fool. He lifted the prince back onto the horse and said warily, "Prince, it's getting late. It isn't safe outside."

Aemon did not refuse. He merely tied the rabbit around his waist with a grass rope.

Nothing else to it. He just wanted to show it off when they returned.

At dusk.

Aemon returned to camp with a wooden bow on his back and a rabbit in hand, looking proud as a hunter returning from the field.

The incident from that morning, when he had hit someone, had been suppressed, so few people knew about it.

Seeing a cute boy with silver-gold hair draped over his shoulders carrying a rabbit, everyone laughed and asked which adult in his family had caught it.

Whenever that happened, Aemon would raise his head and declare, "I caught it myself!"

Ser Steve went back to tie up the horse, leaving the Little Prince to show off his achievements alone.

Aemon made a half-circle around the camp before returning to the King's great tent.

The moment he reached the entrance, someone stopped him.

"Please wait. Might I invite Your Highness to chat for a while?"

Leaning on his cane, Larys smiled and bent at the waist.

He seemed to have been waiting here specifically.

Aemon immediately became wary. Folding his arms across his chest, he said arrogantly, "What is it?"

This fellow did not look like a good person.

Throughout the Dance of the Dragons, he might not have been as clever as Sea Snake Corlys or Otto, but he was certainly the most ruthless, scheming bastard.

He would even kill his own father for you to see.

Larys coughed lightly and spoke mysteriously. "The King went out of camp to hunt. While you were away, some interesting things happened."

As he spoke, he shifted his clumsy clubfoot, habitually making himself appear weak.

Aemon was not buying it. Openly, he said, "Let's hear it."

There was no use avoiding people like this.

There was no need to beat around the bush with him. Just go at him directly.

A certain table-flipping lady from the future had once spoken a profound truth: Wisdom is not power. Power is power.

Larys discreetly looked him over. Feeling a trace of pressure from an eight-year-old child, he revealed, "As far as I know, it concerns the princess's marriage."

As he spoke, his manner grew ever humbler, as though he were a purely kind and good man.

Aemon rolled his eyes and said bluntly, "Did Rhaenyra quarrel with my uncle?"

Rhaenyra's marriage was difficult enough, with low-quality men proposing everywhere.

It would have been strange if they had not quarreled.

"No. Lady Laena invited the princess out for a stroll."

Larys shook his head.

"So?" Aemon did not want to hear nonsense.

Larys bent even lower and said quietly, "In my view, Otto and Duke Jason were unwise to anger the King."

"My uncle is going to make a move?"

Aemon asked directly.

Larys answered ambiguously, "The King is benevolent and courteous. Who can say?"

He truly had not misjudged him. The Little Prince before him was promising material.

Quick, ruthless, and precise, with a powerful family background and a mind that knew how to think.

Under the current circumstances, he was truly a dark horse.

The Hand was too eager for success and had repeatedly crossed the King's bottom line.

The Queen and the princess lacked political sense and could not escape the fate of being manipulated.

This Little Prince from the Vale would become a stepping stone on his path to advancement.

Aemon looked him over from head to toe. Beneath that humble, kindly exterior, he saw restraint and shrewdness.

"Prince, I know many interesting little stories."

Having made up his mind, Larys extended an invitation. "Would Your Highness honor me by showing some tolerance for this frail body of mine and changing to another place to sit and talk?"

Aemon's eyes gleamed slyly. "Lead the way."