Escalating Conflict

Viserys spoke with genuine emotion, pouring out his heart.

As his words fell, he gazed at his daughter with anticipation.

He hoped his words could move her.

And steer her back from her willful path.

Rhaenyra's eyes reddened, and her gaze back at her father held only sorrow and resolve.

Clearly, she hadn't taken his words to heart.

Tears welled up, and Rhaenyra choked out, "I never thought... I just want someone who can protect me, someone who truly cares about me."

It was the first time she'd revealed her true feelings, though somewhat indirectly.

Ever since losing her mother, Rhaenyra's heart had been filled with emptiness and fear.

She didn't want to marry a man she didn't love and become a tool for childbirth.

Her father loved her mother dearly, yet during her mother's difficult labor, he had chosen to save his brother, cutting open her mother's belly.

She would never forget the day she ordered Syrax to unleash Dragonflame and cremate her mother's body.

Rhaenyra feared that day would be repeated for her.

The husband she envisioned should be tall, handsome, and a gentle man who cherished her above all else.

It was precisely because of this that she harbored a vague affection for the always gentle Cole.

Viserys did not understand his daughter's heart; he only responded to her surface words.

Believing he understood, he said, "You can spend time together, and marry when he comes of age. You are both young, with plenty of time to fall in love."

"Never! You don't understand anything about him, and we can't decide his fate for him."

Rhaenyra shook her head repeatedly. Though she mentioned Rhaegar's fate, she was truly lamenting her own.

Viserys wanted to continue persuading her, but Rhaenyra covered her ears and fled the bedroom as if escaping.

She didn't want to hear any more.

Because her father always found a way to force her to yield.

Watching Rhaenyra's disheveled retreating figure, Viserys slammed his goblet down heavily, angrily thinking her unfilial.

Everything he had done was for his daughter's future.

Time flew by, and three days later.

The bustling tournament grounds.

Viserys sat at the head seat with a smile, listening to Hand Lyonel's report.

"Your Grace, the Dragonpit has been thoroughly investigated. Through the testimony of an old dragonkeeper, it has been confirmed that Maester Pycelle of Oldtown personally replaced Dreamfyre's chains."

"His reason was that Dreamfyre has a violent temper and often displayed aggressive behavior when the dragonkeeper delivered livestock."

"To ensure the safety of the dragonkeepers, shorter chains were used to restrict Dreamfyre's movements."

Viserys turned his head upon hearing this, raising an eyebrow. "Do you believe such a flimsy excuse?"

Lyonel shook his head. "No, the explanation is too far-fetched."

"Does that bastard imprisoned in the dungeon have any connection to this matter?"

Viserys suddenly remembered Menas, whom Rhaegar had pleaded to spare.

"As it stands, this individual has no motive to harm Prince Rhaegar, and Maester Pycelle also expressed disdain for his background."

Lyonel spoke the truth.

Viserys pondered for a moment, then waved his hand. "Since there's no connection, release him."

"It's thanks to that young man's timely intervention that Rhaegar's burns were treated so quickly."

Lyonel chuckled softly. "The Prince's self-healing ability is indeed astonishing. I hear his injuries are recovering rapidly. Truly a Targaryen blessed by the Seven Gods."

He paused, then whispered, "Maester Pycelle is very suspicious. What should be our decision?"

A cold glint flashed in Viserys's eyes, and he said unkindly, "The Maesters of Oldtown are servants of the people. And when a servant meddles with their master's belongings, how should they be judged?"

"Enough to have his hands cut off?"

Lyonel answered at the opportune moment.

"So be it. If he wishes to go to the Wall and join the Night's Watch, do not stop him."

Viserys approved.

Lyonel followed the command and bowed, taking his leave.

He still had many state affairs to attend to and could not linger.

With the Hand gone, only Daemon and Rhaenyra remained by Viserys's side.

Today was the final day of the tournament, and most of the royal family would be in attendance.

Rhaenyra, who had been eavesdropping from below, turned her head and said displeasedly, "That damned Maester almost killed Rhaegar, and you plan to forgive him so easily?"

Viserys frowned, "Maesters belong to Oldtown. No one can judge them on a whim. Cutting off his hands or sending him to the Night's Watch is already a lenient punishment."

"Rhaegar almost died because of him, so he should repay with his life."

Rhaenyra stated her wish.

"It cannot be this way. Power is not a butcher's knife to take lives at will. Proper legal proceedings are what a King should do."

Viserys did not want to dwell on the issue and stopped Rhaenyra's retort with a look.

"Hmph~"

Her suggestions were always ignored, so Rhaenyra snorted coldly and adjusted her posture to sit properly.

Daemon, standing beside them, silently watched this father-daughter argument, a self-deprecating sneer curling at the corner of his lips.

He had long understood his brother's weak character and indecisive methods.

Viserys, completely unaware of his brother's disdain, was engrossed in admiring the tournament below.

He did not believe his handling of the situation was wrong.

A King should restrain his desires.

He should not set an example by breaking the law for his own selfish reasons.

The battles in the tournament grounds were fierce.

The joust, melee, and archery events had already concluded.

Only the most important event, the duel, was being contested for the championship.

Under the gaze of thousands of spectators, the two contestants in the dueling arena began their final match.

One was a tall warrior from Casterly Rock, clad in heavy armor and wielding a broadsword.

The other was the dark horse of this tournament.

The Water Dancer—Shiryu. Freer.

Shiryu's swordsmanship was as superb as ever. His body was as flexible as a snake, and he moved as nimbly as a rabbit.

Each strike he made avoided his opponent's slashes, aiming directly for the weak points in their armor.

His sword tip drew streaks of bright red blood.

In less than half an hour, the duel concluded.

As expected, Shiryu defeated his opponent, winning the championship of the duel.

Amidst the cheers of nobles and commoners in the audience, it was time for the King to present the awards.

The winners of the previous events stepped forward to receive their prize money and the King's praise.

Soon, it was Shiryu's turn at the end.

Looking down at Shiryu, who was kneeling on one knee, Viserys smiled sincerely, "I remember you. You boasted you would win the championship, and it seems you weren't bragging."

Shiryu replied respectfully, "Your Majesty, Shiryu would not dare to boast to the Kingdom."

"Very good. I said I would grant you one wish. You may state it now."

Viserys took his word seriously.

Shiryu did not hesitate and said directly, "I come from distant Braavos. Here, I have no family, no kin, no honor..."

"I wish to beg you, to allow me to serve in the Red Keep, even if it's just as a dance instructor."

"Why do you wish to stay in the Red Keep? I thought you would want to become a knight?"

Viserys was greatly perplexed and secretly wary of this man.

A skilled swordsman adept at assassination was not someone he could carelessly allow near his person.

Shiryu replied without hesitation, "Because of your eldest son, Prince Rhaegar!"

"Rhaegar?"

Viserys was completely bewildered.

Shiryu said, "Prince Rhaegar, as your eldest son, is unmatched in character and wisdom in all my life."

"A kingdom is fortunate to have such an excellent prince."

"I wish to remain in the Red Keep and, in my spare time, teach the Prince swordsmanship, ensuring he possesses formidable martial skills before he comes of age and becomes a valiant and formidable knight."