Song of Ice and Fire

Eager to save his brother, Illyric didn't keep the King waiting.

In just over ten minutes, he brought a large group to the main tent.

Viserys spoke to reassure the uneasy Maesters and physicians, ordering them to examine Rhaegar.

A full body check from head to toe, not missing a single strand of hair.

The Maesters familiar with Rhaegar were no strangers to this.

Some among them occasionally assisted the Grand Maester in examining the frail Prince's body.

After preparing the necessary equipment, the Maesters took the lead.

The examination process was simple and crude.

First, they drew blood to observe its color and viscosity.

They even let a leech taste the blood to check for toxins.

The rest performed all sorts of other checks.

Large hands massaged the entire body, examining the skin, teeth, and roots of hair...

There was nothing these medical students couldn't do, if you could imagine it.

One particularly gaunt old man even proposed removing Rhaegar's pants and spreading his buttocks to examine his anus.

As his father, Viserys tacitly approved of such actions.

Rhaegar was terrified, regretting his rash decision to allow himself to be examined.

Fortunately, Rhaegar's strong resistance...

Illyric intervened.

He broke the gaunt old man's nose with a single punch and pleaded with the King not to let the Prince's spirit be violated.

"You can hang me, but you shouldn't let the Prince be humiliated!"

Rhaegar nearly wet himself, trembling behind Illyric.

Viserys did not scold Illyric for acting on his own, waving for the less skilled physicians to leave.

He kept only a few competent-looking Maesters to report on Rhaegar's condition.

A Royal Maester spoke first, his surprise evident, "Your Majesty, the Prince's condition has indeed improved greatly. His blood activity is far beyond normal."

The other Maesters chimed in.

"The Prince suffered from difficulty breathing. This deep breathing test was perfect, with no internal sounds."

"Urine color is normal, a pale yellow but not cloudy, with a slightly gamey odor. His kidneys are recovering quickly..."

"..."

Viserys listened to the favorable reports, stunned.

He ordered the guards to escort the Maesters away, rewarding them all with gold coins.

In an instant, only Viserys, his son, and the Cagell brothers remained in the tent.

Rhaegar spoke first, "As the Maesters said, my illness is cured, thanks to Sir Illyric's help."

"He helped you, so I will deal with him leniently."

Viserys was genuinely happy for his eldest son, lamenting, "I am glad you have regained your health. When I see your mother in heaven, I will not be speechless."

"Father, I cannot offer words of comfort on behalf of Mother, I only hope you can look forward."

Mentioning his mother, who died in childbirth, Rhaegar felt a pang of unease.

Rumors were like the bitter cold of the twelfth lunar month.

They were not only sharp and hurtful like knives but also seeped in everywhere.

Always reaching the ears of those they intended to reach.

Viserys felt guilt for forcing his wife to conceive for years, leading to her death.

As a newborn born during a difficult labor, Rhaegar was also partly responsible for his mother's death.

He, who was so young, also harbored guilt in his heart upon hearing the embellished rumors.

Seeing his eldest son's dejected expression, Viserys's heart ached, knowing he had stirred his son's sadness.

"Illyric, I need to have a heart-to-heart talk with my son. You and your brother should leave and ensure no one approaches the tent."

Viserys instructed the Cagell brothers to leave.

"Please rest assured!"

Illyric's face was solemn as he pulled his brother away and stood guard outside the main tent.

With no outsiders to disturb them, Viserys rose and went to Rhaegar's side, affectionately stroking his head.

"You were quite frightened just now?"

"What?"

Rhaegar looked bewildered.

Viserys chuckled wickedly, "Doctor Borus, that old man who wanted to pull down your pants."

Rhaegar's face turned green. "I've noted his name."

"Heh, those in high positions must have broad minds, especially towards the physician who prepares their medicine."

Viserys lectured, half-seriously and half-jokingly.

"That's just your grown-ups' scheming. I just want to smash his dog head in."

Rhaegar wouldn't listen to any talk of magnanimity.

That was easy to say when it wasn't the King being held down and having his pants pulled.

"Regarding the White Hart, let's assume it's true. Did you really recover your health from eating a magical fruit?"

Viserys changed the subject, recalling the fruit his eldest son had mentioned.

He had been wounded by the Iron Throne, and the wound had never healed, no matter what method was used.

For nearly ten years, his body had been covered in scars, many of them festering and rotting.

The pain constantly gnawed at his nerves.

If...

If the White Hart truly possessed such a magical fruit, perhaps it could heal his body.

Rhaegar naturally knew why his father was asking.

"I wasn't lying. The White Hart was willing to get close to me and fed me a fruit that restored my health."

Viserys's face lit up. "Can you still find the White Hart?"

Rhaegar stated directly, "That magical fruit is no ordinary thing, and it's very difficult to get a second one. It would be useless even if I found the White Hart."

"How do you know if you don't try?"

Viserys was unwilling to give up hope for treatment.

Rhaegar, unwilling to betray his friend, insisted, "The White Hart is an auspicious omen. Those it draws close to receive blessings."

"Conversely, those who dare to harm it will suffer a curse."

Viserys stared at Rhaegar suspiciously, trying to find a clue in his expression.

Rhaegar's expression remained unchanged, and he met his gaze calmly.

After a long while, Viserys gave up.

He sighed. "You're right. I went hunting for the White Hart yesterday and didn't even see a shadow."

Rhaegar was very surprised; he hadn't known about this.

Viserys stroked his head. "You were luckier than I was to gain the White Hart's friendship."

Rhaegar remained silent.

He didn't know what to say.

The White Hart was his friend, and he couldn't betray it.

Besides, the fruit was a reward released by an Explorer, not something the White Hart possessed.

Even if he helped his father capture the White Hart, there wouldn't be a second fruit to cure his illness.

Viserys felt gratified, but another thought lingered in his mind.

The White Hart was a symbol of royal authority, yet he, the King, had never had the chance to meet it.

Rhaegar being able to see it was more than just luck.

Despite the myriad thoughts in his heart, Viserys admonished himself.

It was a rare and wonderful thing for his son to have encountered such a marvel!

With this thought, a notion arose in Viserys's heart.

He took Rhaegar's hand and walked to the brazier inside the tent.

Under Rhaegar's confused gaze, he drew the dragonbone dagger from his waist and placed the blade into the fire.

Once the Valyrian steel blade was heated to a glowing red, he grasped the dragonbone hilt and withdrew it.

He placed it before Rhaegar.

"Observe carefully. What do you see?"

Viserys prompted encouragingly.

Rhaegar looked at the red-hot dagger and noticed that under the scorching flames, many tiny characters appeared.

"Is this Valyrian?"

Possessing a mastery of Valyrian, he quickly discerned the meaning.

Considering he hadn't learned Valyrian yet, Rhaegar dared not reveal too much.

He stumbled through the reading, "Prophecy... bloodline, a song of ice and fire..."

Beyond that, Rhaegar feigned speechlessness and looked helplessly at Viserys.

Viserys was not surprised; instead, he was delighted that he could recognize some of the Valyrian.

It seemed the information he had received was correct; Rhaegar was indeed a child who loved to read.