Sneaking Out

After leaving Rhaegar's room, Rhaenyra's mood grew even heavier.

All she wanted was to return to her room, take a hot bath, curl up in her warm bed, and sleep.

Today had been far too oppressive.

Once she woke, it would be a new day.

Cole was standing guard outside her door. Rhaenyra greeted him and went into her room.

As she removed her earrings and jewelry, she habitually poured herself a cup of sake from the table.

Suddenly, out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a package sitting conspicuously on the table.

The unexpected package caught Rhaenyra's attention, and she looked around the room.

After confirming that no one else was there, she pinched one corner of the package and tipped it upside down.

A shabby set of hemp clothes fell out.

Along with a sheet of white paper bearing a simple map.

Picking up the paper to examine it, Rhaenyra was surprised to discover that it showed the way through a secret passage in the Red Keep.

The map pointed to a spot in her room.

She went to the marked location. It was a wall carved with a mural.

She pushed hard, and the wall swung outward, revealing the night beyond the Red Keep.

Outside the wall, a staircase enclosed by iron railings led to an unknown destination.

Rhaenyra's lips curled into a smile. She was intrigued.

She loved exploring, just as she loved the thrill of riding a dragon through the sky.

Returning to the table, she took off her splendid dress and pulled on the patched hemp clothes.

She sniffed them lightly. They didn't smell strange.

Disguised, Rhaenyra followed the secret passage out of her room.

She made her way along the dark tunnel, passing the shrine that housed Balerion's skull...

At last, she reached a corner of the Red Keep.

A figure in black robes had been waiting there for some time.

As Rhaenyra studied the figure, the black-robed person turned around, revealing a familiar face.

"Daemon?"

Rhaenyra let out a surprised whisper.

Daemon smiled and suggested, "Want to go for a walk? See some sights you've never seen before?"

Rhaenyra glanced back and hesitated.

She didn't think sneaking out with her uncle in the middle of the night was a good idea.

Daemon saw her reluctance and deliberately provoked her. "What, are you afraid to go out? Want to go back to being a little princess?"

His words immediately struck a nerve. Gritting her teeth, she said, "I'm not going back. Let's go, then."

"Good."

Daemon pulled up his hood and turned to lead her out of the Red Keep.

Rhaenyra followed close behind, her heart uneasy but filled with excitement.

Daemon led her to the famous Silk Street.

Unlike the freewheeling trade during the day, Silk Street was bustling at night, full of all sorts of people.

The uncle and niece made their way through the crowded alleys, past every kind of vendor and street performer.

Some men and women were even coupling right there in the street, without the slightest concern for onlookers.

Their positions were quite varied.

Rhaenyra, who had been raised according to royal etiquette, was utterly shocked.

Her sense of propriety made her raise a hand to shield her face, lest the filthy scene sully her eyes.

But curiosity urged her to spread her fingers and sneak a peek through the gaps.

When had she ever seen anything like this?

They wandered on and off until they came to a performing stage surrounded by a large crowd.

The actors onstage were putting on a play about the Targaryen royal family.

The performance had reached an exciting part.

Two men played children, while a clown played a princess in a white dress.

The lead actor moved in a ridiculous fashion and delivered the narration in a bizarre tone.

"Now let's talk about the mighty Iron Throne, and whose backside will sit upon it?"

"Our merciful king named his own daughter, a girl, as his heir."

"The former Queen gave birth to a son, who spends all day dozing."

"The new Queen gave birth to a child too—a healthy boy!"

"So which heir will take the throne?"

"The king's brother? His daughter? Or his two sons, born of different mothers?"

At this point, the two actors playing children shoved each other and shouted their names.

"I'm Aegon, named after the Conqueror, with all the vigor of a man!"

"I'm the Sleeping Whelp! The king is my father. Taste the Fury of the Sleeping Dragon!"

The play reached its climax. The audience cheered and applauded the farcical performance.

Rhaenyra's smile gradually faded as she watched, baffled.

Soon, the actor playing Rhaegar shoved his opponent to the ground, then clambered on top of him and rocked back and forth.

He shouted, "I'm the king's eldest son! No one can rival me..."

The actor underneath him struggled and begged for mercy, rolling around on the ground.

The audience grew even more excited, cheering again and again.

Rhaenyra could no longer smile. She glared at Daemon, indignant. "What a stupid joke. Is this all you brought me out to see?"

Daemon replied calmly, "It is a joke, but many commoners believe that, as male heirs, Rhaegar and Aegon should inherit the throne."

"What they think doesn't matter," Rhaenyra retorted. She didn't want to watch the boring performance any longer.

Daemon followed behind her and said casually, "If you intend to rule the realm one day, then what they think matters a great deal."

"Honestly, sometimes I wish I could put down the burden of being heir."

Rhaenyra's tone was self-mocking.

"Heh. If you gave up that position, it would only benefit someone else."

Daemon's words carried an implication.

Rhaenyra glared at him and said crossly, "That includes you!"

Daemon's lips curled up, but he didn't deny it.

Seeing that he was shamelessly unbothered, Rhaenyra snatched some candied fruit from a nearby vendor, tossed it at him, and took off running.

The noisy din couldn't drown out the girl's triumphant whoop.

Daemon's expression didn't change. He pushed past the vendor trying to stop him and hurried after her.

The Red Keep.

As the night grew late, Helaena grew tired of playing and went back to bed. Rhaegar also put out the lights and went to sleep alone.

He fell asleep face-down and once again slipped into a dream.

He dreamed that he wore a white cloak and held a sword.

As far as the eye could see, the land was strewn with broken limbs and corpses, soaked in blood.

Rhaegar was utterly confused. The stench of blood merely made him feel sick.

He lowered his head to vomit. His white cloak draped softly around his sides, and a speck of blood appeared out of nowhere.

Rhaegar happened to notice it.

Before he could examine it, the tiny spot of blood began to spread. More and more appeared.

In the blink of an eye, half the white cloak was covered, and drops of filthy blood dripped down.

A gust of eerie wind swept past, billowing the cloak until it covered Rhaegar's head.

At the sight, Rhaegar was seized by an inexplicable fear.

"When the wind stops, the bloody cloak will fall on me. The filthy blood will get all over my head and face."

The thought flashed through Rhaegar's mind. He took off running, trying to leave the cloak behind.

That way, when it fell, it wouldn't get on him.

But the half-white, half-red cloak seemed to have its sights set on him.

No matter where he ran, or how fast,

it hovered above his head on the raging wind, waiting for the moment it died down.

Helplessness filled his heart. Rhaegar couldn't run anymore.

The cloak was about to fall.

"No!"

A startled cry rang through the room. Rhaegar's eyes flew open as he jolted awake from the nightmare.

He tried to sit up, but the scabs on his back pulled tight, and a sharp pain instantly dragged him back to reality.

"Hiss... Another nightmare!"

Tears squeezed from the corners of his eyes. Rhaegar pounded the pillow in pain.

It hurt so much!

Cuckoo, cuckoo...

Just as the pain began to ease, a cuckoo called from outside the window.

Rhaegar listened, perplexed. "I usually hear cicadas. Where did that cuckoo come from?"

Cuckoo, cuckoo...

The bird kept calling, its rhythm perfectly steady.

Rhaegar realized something was wrong.

There weren't any cuckoos in the Red Keep. That pack of useless, stupid cats had eaten them all.

I've thought it over, and I think I should review the earlier chapters and reconsider the relationship between the protagonist and his sister.

Give me a little time. You can leave your hopes for the protagonist and Rhaenyra in the comments.

Will they follow the tradition of close-kin marriage?