Leonno's Proposal

"You don't need to apologize. Every Targaryen is obsessed with dragons. It's hardly unusual to make a poor judgment in a moment of impulse."

Looking at Rhaegar lying in bed and enduring the pain, Illyric had no right to be angry.

At the mention of dragons, anger welled up in Rhaegar's eyes. He gritted his teeth. "I was already close to taming Dreamfyre."

"Did something go wrong?"

Illyric realized there was more to it than met the eye. He frowned as he asked.

Rhaegar's voice was thick with fury. "Dreamfyre was just about to accept me, but a chain was holding it captive, so it couldn't even stand up."

"The chain forcibly interrupted my bonding ceremony with Dreamfyre!"

By the end, Rhaegar was practically roaring from deep in his throat.

Blood vessels stood out in his eyes, connecting with his purple irises to form an eerie contrast.

Failure wasn't frightening.

Having success snatched away was an unforgivable crime.

Illyric hadn't expected this. He grabbed Menas roughly and threatened him. "You're responsible for inspecting the Dragonpit regularly. What's the story with that chain?"

Even though he hadn't had much to do with dragons, he knew that the chains used to restrain them were usually long enough not to restrict their movement.

As Rhaegar had said, there was clearly something unusual about Dreamfyre's situation.

Illyric had reason to suspect this bastard Maester was trying to murder the prince.

Menas was hauled up by the collar and panicked, blurting out:

"It wasn't me! I'm only responsible for cleaning up bones and dragon dung. Those are filthy, exhausting jobs no one else wants to do. How would I dare go near a dragon?"

"If it wasn't you, then who was it? A dragon trainer? Or that Maester Pycelle you mentioned?"

Illyric clearly had no intention of letting him go. He punched Menas twice in the face, leaving blood streaming from his nose.

Menas screamed and hurriedly explained, "It really wasn't me! Only the Dragon Trainers can change a dragon's chains. They're the ones who can calm the dragons!"

He cried out desperately, trying to clear his name.

The noise made Rhaegar's burns hurt even more. Irritated, he said, "Tie him up first. We're returning to the Red Keep at once. I have to tell my father about this."

The pain in his wounds made it impossible to think clearly. Right now, there were only two things he wanted to do.

First, go home and find his father.

Second, find out who had changed Dreamfyre's chains without permission, then feed him to a dragon.

Illyric had no objections. "Yes, Prince."

He tossed Menas to the ground, took off his belt, and tied his hands behind his back.

After subduing the bastard Maester, who couldn't fight his way out of a paper bag, Illyric carefully carried Rhaegar outside.

The carriage was right outside the Dragonpit's entrance. Illyric moved quickly and steadily.

Ignoring the coachman's horrified expression, he laid Rhaegar flat on the carriage's spacious seat.

He kicked Menas into the coachman's arms and instructed him, "Tie him to the back of the carriage and make him run after us."

Then he added, "The prince is injured. The carriage can go fast, but don't jostle him."

"Yes, Ser."

The coachman had never seen anything like this. He obediently tied Menas to the back of the carriage and stuffed a filthy rag into his mouth.

With the task done, he drove the carriage back to the Red Keep.

The Red Keep, the king's bedchamber.

Viserys returned to his room, exhausted after watching the tournament all morning. He lamented that he didn't have the stamina he used to.

"Bring the Prime Minister here. Tell him the king has something to discuss."

Viserys rubbed his lower back and called out toward the door.

A servant outside answered him.

In less than ten minutes, Prime Minister Lyonel pushed open the door and entered.

"Your Grace, what did you wish to discuss?"

Lyonel stood beside the desk, his corpulent figure bowed respectfully as he asked.

Viserys waited until a servant had poured them both a glass of wine, then signaled for him to leave.

Once they were alone, Viserys swirled his wine and said gloomily, "The letters from people asking for Rhaenyra's hand have piled up like a mountain. I've been hesitating over what kind of husband to choose for her."

Lyonel looked hesitant. After a moment, he said, "Your Grace, I think there's something even more important than choosing a husband for the Princess that you need to decide."

"Oh? Is there anything more important than Rhaenyra's marriage right now?"

Viserys asked with a laugh.

Lyonel didn't laugh. From the moment he entered, his eyes hadn't left the king's face.

A lifetime of experience had made him taciturn, but it had also given him a keen eye for people's thoughts.

Lyonel knew the king was playing dumb, as he habitually did whenever he wanted to avoid a difficult question.

He drained his glass of red wine in one go, then spoke boldly.

"Your Grace, Prince Rhaegar is your eldest son. According to the laws of primogeniture on the Westeros Continent, he should be heir to the Iron Throne."

Viserys's expression changed at once. He said darkly, "But Rhaenyra is the heir now. I chose her myself, and she's older than Rhaegar."

Now that the issue had been laid bare, Lyonel had no reason to back down.

"Prince Rhaegar is male. A male heir with a legitimate claim would be more likely to win the lords' loyalty."

"Rhaenyra has been the heir for years. She traveled across the continent not long ago, and the lords accepted her."

Viserys was indignant.

In this, he and Rhaenyra were truly alike.

They were willing to hear other people's opinions, but treated them as nothing more than opinions.

In the end, they did whatever they pleased.

Lyonel said, "That's because they had no better choice. If Prince Rhaegar were put forward, they would certainly be more willing to support a male heir."

After years together, Lyonel understood Viserys even better than the king understood himself.

He knew what to say and do to persuade the king.

Unfortunately, Viserys was firm on the question of the heir and refused to yield.

He shook his head in displeasure. "No! Rhaenyra hasn't done anything wrong. No one can strip her of her position as heir."

"Then what is to become of Prince Rhaegar?"

Lyonel didn't dwell on whether Rhaenyra had done anything wrong. He said calmly, "Prince Rhaegar was born to be the heir."

"He was held back by frailty before, but now he's in good health. Are you really going to abandon such an outstanding eldest son?"

"Of course not!"

Viserys denied it at once, then explained his plan. "Rhaegar is a good boy. He loves his father, and he loves his sister."

"I'll hire the best tutors to teach him and help him grow into a strong, honorable man."

"When Rhaenyra takes the throne, he can serve as Hand of the King, regent, or even take on the burden of Protector of the Realm."

Lyonel stared at him in disbelief. "Your Grace, do you truly mean that?"

That was only a polite way of putting it.

Lyonel's thoughts were in turmoil.

If Rhaegar was the eldest son, as the king himself had said, shouldn't he be the heir?

Besides, would such an outstanding prince really be content to live in someone else's shadow and quietly devote himself to them?

Even brothers in a minor noble family would fight to the death over their inheritance.

And that was nothing compared to the temptation of an entire kingdom.

Even a brother and sister wouldn't stand a chance!

Viserys was undeterred. He insisted, "I believe in Rhaegar. He'll help his sister manage the affairs of state and protect the kingdom from harm."

Lyonel opened his mouth, then didn't know what to say.

He picked up the wine jug, poured himself another glass, and downed it in one go.

"Very well. I trust your judgment."