I Thought You Would Die Young

Chapter 9: I Thought You Would Die Young

He waved to the guard squad and scampered off.

Lady Rhea gave him a once-over, then silently led her son into the cabin.

As it happened, the sky was gradually darkening.

Aemon had been full of anticipation, thinking his mother had some special instructions for him.

Instead, she merely told him to rest well and not show up before the King's family with dark circles under his eyes.

"Okay!"

Aemon stood there blankly for a moment before returning to his room, unable to hide his disappointment.

Before leaving, he leaned against the doorframe and glanced around the room.

Was everything really all right?

Lady Rhea pretended not to notice and made the bed, preparing to sleep.

"Good night."

Aemon waved his little hand and shut the door tightly behind him.

The moment he turned around, he was utterly speechless.

He knew it. His mother was a little unreliable.

And she did not have much maternal affection, either.

"Whatever. A child does not hold a grudge against an adult."

With his hands clasped behind his back, Aemon quickly talked himself into feeling better.

So what if he had nightmares when sleeping alone? He was a kid with a system panel backing him now.

Later that evening, Aemon returned to his room.

"Come take a look. I used the extra grass to make you a pillow."

Old Martha let out a breath and rose to pound her aching lower back.

"Okay!" Aemon called loudly.

He ran to the bed and saw that the Sweetgrass from the basket had disappeared, replaced by a grass mat and a small pillow.

The grass mat was a meter wide and a meter and a half long, while the plump little pillow was stuffed with grass leaves.

Aemon kicked off his little boots, lay on the blue-backed mat, and rolled around. Then he hugged the pillow to his chest and took a deep sniff.

It carried the fresh scent of green grass, along with a cloying sweetness reminiscent of mint.

"Martha, you're amazing at this."

Aemon beamed, rolling back and forth like a mouse that had stolen lamp oil, utterly delighted.

Old Martha was so tired her vision blurred. Seeing this, she got up to leave. "As long as you like it. Go to sleep first."

"Bye-bye!"

Aemon did not try to keep her. His childish voice gave her a sweet farewell.

Bang!

The cabin door closed, and the room immediately dimmed.

"Hehe, let's hope I have a good dream tonight."

Contentedly, Aemon lay down properly, resting his head on the Sweetgrass Pillow while waving his arms and legs across the mat.

Gradually, sleepiness washed over him.

Before he knew it, his eyes had closed, and he began breathing steadily with soft snores.

In the blink of an eye, two days passed.

Prince Aemon cut through the waves under full sail, passing around the Strait Sea and entering The Gullet leading into Blackwater Bay.

Splash! Splash!

The seawater surged and crashed while briny gusts of sea wind blew across the deck.

Wrapped up tightly, Aemon leaned against the deck railing and watched the sea.

Compared to two days ago, the Little One looked even more energetic, his cheeks rosy and fair.

Every so often, he would shout at the ocean, then giggle to himself.

"Martha told me you haven't woken from dreams these past two nights?"

Footsteps sounded behind him. Lady Rhea, clad in leather armor, approached and showed rare concern for her son.

Aemon turned around and obediently replied, "That's right. I slept very soundly."

He reached back and patted the basket on his back.

Though surprised, Rhea did not ask further.

The boy had developed a strange habit, carrying a basket as tall as himself wherever he went.

She had ordered the old septa to inspect it. It contained only a rolled-up grass mat and pillow, neither too heavy nor too light.

Noticing his mother's gaze, Aemon looked up at the sky and whistled, silently turning his back to her.

Whether he could sleep well depended on it. Everything he owned was in that basket.

His dark circles had finally been cured. He had to cherish it while it lasted.

Lady Rhea rested both hands on the railing and gazed into the distance at Blackwater Bay. "We're almost at King's Landing. Are you nervous?"

"Not nervous." Aemon answered without hesitation.

King's Landing was his first home. He had been born there and grown up safely until the age of three.

Why would anyone be nervous about going home?

Lady Rhea lowered her head and stared at her son, her expression serious. "In your heart, you should consider yourself a Targaryen."

Aemon was stumped.

He looked himself over. Black clothes and little black boots, with the Three-Headed Red Dragon Sigil of House Targaryen at his collar.

Together with his silver-gold shoulder-length hair and purple eyes.

He was obviously a Targaryen at a glance!

Lady Rhea's expression was unreadable, as though words were caught in her throat and had to be spoken.

Aemon lowered his head, realizing where the issue lay.

Ever since his great-grandmother, Queen Alysanne, had arranged the marriage between her grandson Daemon and Lady Rhea, the possibility of a succession dispute had existed.

Daemon had married into the family; he had not been taken in as a son-in-law. Naturally, his children bore the Targaryen name.

But Lady Rhea was a woman. Her children took their father's name, and Runestone would inevitably change hands in the future.

When that happened, what would become of House Royce?

Aemon racked his brains but could not solve the problem for now. He softly asked, "So you arranged guards for me because you want to leave me in King's Landing, right?"

As long as he stayed away from Runestone, House Royce could choose a suitable cousin to inherit.

The guards who had suddenly appeared were a protective charm for their parting.

Lady Rhea nearly laughed in anger. Barely concealing her disdain, she said, "Don't think I'm as shameless as the Targaryens. Though I hate to admit it, you are my son."

"Really?"

Aemon's eyes lit up. He threw himself against his mother's straight leg and asked again, "You're not trying to send me away?"

"I have never said anything like that." Lady Rhea shook her head.

Who had been spreading such rumors that they had frightened the child this badly?

Regardless of what his mother thought, Aemon was delighted. "Then how do you plan to handle the inheritance? You usually don't even pay attention to me."

Since his mother had not intended to remove his inheritance rights, he could remain in Runestone in the future.

King's Landing was nice, but it ultimately belonged to someone else.

Runestone, where his mother was, was the foundation where he could settle down and build a life.

"I haven't planned anything!"

With her arms crossed, Lady Rhea bluntly said, "When you were born, you were very frail. I thought you would die young, so being attached to you would have been a waste of feeling."

"Huh?" Aemon was dumbfounded, nearly unable to keep himself together.

His mother had not been close to him because she had reached a conclusion too early?

"It's not important, so there's no need to mention it."

Lady Rhea coughed twice and changed the subject. "What I mean is, when we go to King's Landing this time, the King will definitely persuade you to stay. The choice is yours."

Aemon fell silent in thought, beginning to understand.

At present, the royal family was thin on the ground, with only two adult male heirs.

His uncle Viserys and his father Daemon.

He was eight years old now, with virtually no chance of dying young.

It was only natural for the royal family to summon him back.

A thought struck him. Combining it with their earlier conversation, Aemon asked, "So should I stay or not?"

"Up to you."

Lady Rhea's face remained expressionless, but her eyes were fixed on a certain someone's soft, fair little face.

Aemon was clever enough to state his position at once. "I won't stay! I won't stay even if it kills me."

They said the center of the grass field was the best place to grow, and if he wanted to accomplish great things, he had to develop quietly and keep a low profile.

King's Landing was a massive pit. His little body could not possibly fill it.

"Hmph!"

Lady Rhea frowned and put on a stern expression. "Even if you stayed, there would be no place for you, just like that bastard who was driven away."

Though she said that, the upward curve of her lips betrayed her.

"This time, we're only going hunting and visiting family and old friends along the way."

Aemon hugged her leg and nodded like a pecking chick.

There was no need to guess. The bastard his mother spoke of was Daemon.

As the King's brother, he had been driven away during the contest for succession. There were far too many twists and turns behind that.

At the moment, he was still catching crabs in the Stepstones.

Lady Rhea glanced at her son, surprised by his cleverness and feeling a little proud as well.

The child she had borne was smarter than that bastard.

Her son could return to King's Landing, but if he stayed, he would become an eyesore.

If seniority were counted, Aemon, as the grandson of Baelon the Brave and the Great-Grandson of King Jaehaerys I, stood ahead of Princess Rhaenyra, a woman, in the line of succession.

Yet after Queen Aemma's death, Daemon had been expelled over the "Heir for a Day" incident, while King Viserys directly named his daughter heir to the Iron Throne.

The royal family had not even notified the mother and son in Runestone of Queen Aemma's funeral.

Now that the King's daughter was firmly seated as heir, and his new queen Alicent had given birth in succession to the Little Prince Aegon and the Little Princess Helena, they finally remembered to summon back the nephew they had forgotten.

It was hardly an open and honorable way of doing things.