White Hart

Chapter 8: White Hart

"How is my sister now?"

With a sigh, Rhaegar was somewhat worried about Rhaenyra.

Illyric did not hide anything. "The Princess ran out of the camp before me. The guards said she went into the Kingswood."

"Alone?"

"Sir Criston Cole gave chase right after her."

Rhaegar nodded, then asked abruptly, "Sir Illyric, what were your father's exact words when he sent you to find me?"

Illyric seemed a little confused and honestly replied, "His Majesty ordered me to bring the Prince back and ensure your safety."

"Very well."

Rhaegar smiled. "Then, I'll trouble you with my protection from now on."

Under Illyric's bewildered gaze, Rhaegar jogged to the nearest tethering fence and ducked inside.

"Your Highness, I don't understand what you mean?"

Illyric followed closely, not understanding.

Rhaegar picked out a tall black horse and asked, "How about this horse? It looks sturdy?"

"Your Highness, don't tell me you're going to the Kingswood?"

Illyric was smart and immediately realized Rhaegar's intention, trying to dissuade him.

Rhaegar touched the black horse's front leg and said seriously, "No, we're going to the Kingswood together."

"His Majesty won't agree to you running off!"

"With a White Knight escort, it's not considered running off."

Rhaegar didn't give Illyric a chance to refuse. He gently pulled a handful of horsehair and said softly, "Sir, I don't think you want me to get hurt, do you?"

As he spoke, he slowly tightened his grip.

The black horse felt the pain, restlessly pawed its hooves, and neighed.

Rhaegar stood by the horse's leg, quietly watching Illyric.

"What is your choice, Sir?"

Illyric stared at Prince Rhaegar, who was using his own safety to coerce him, finding it hard to accept.

At this moment, he mourned for the King.

Having such a pair of mischievous children must be a constant headache.

At the same time, he mourned for himself.

He knew he couldn't stop someone who intended to harm themselves.

Illyric swallowed and lowered his head. "I will take you to the Princess, but you must follow my instructions throughout the process."

"No problem, Sir."

Rhaegar's pale face broke into a slight smile, and he let go, spreading his arms.

Illyric stepped forward, picked up Rhaegar's small body, and placed him on the horse's back.

He untied the reins and led the horse out of the enclosure.

The White Knight stepped into the stirrups and mounted the horse, one arm around the young prince, the other holding the reins.

He squeezed the horse's belly with his legs and, with a depressed tone, gave the command.

"Giddy up~"

Before long, the black horse left the camp and galloped along the small path in the Kingswood.

"Sir, do you know where my sister went?"

His short hair danced in the wind, Rhaegar asked.

Illyric's face was solemn as he replied, "Cole is a vigilant fellow. He left markers along the way."

Hearing this, Rhaegar felt relieved.

None of those qualified to be Kingsguard were simple; leaving information was a small matter for them.

Time passed quickly.

The sun was high when they left the camp, and in the blink of an eye, it was setting in the west.

In the glow of the setting sun, Illyric led the black horse, walking slowly on the Kingswood path densely covered with pine and cypress trees.

"Sir, I have reason to suspect my luck is simply not suited for searching."

Lying on the horse's back, Rhaegar's lips were pale, a slight sweat on his forehead, and he spoke weakly.

Illyric sighed. "Perhaps. The markers Cole left disappeared halfway through. We've become headless chickens."

"Heh heh, it must have been Rhaenyra. She didn't want anyone to find her."

Rhaegar shook his head and gave a wry smile.

Illyric didn't respond, trying to discern their surroundings and find the way back to the camp.

The Kingswood was vast, and under Rhaegar's haphazard command, they had wandered too far.

Rustle... rustle...

Suddenly, a faint sound of footsteps on dry grass came from their flank and rear.

As expected of a member of the kingdom's strongest bodyguard unit, Illyric instantly sensed something was wrong and cast a wary glance.

Rhaegar, already frail, was utterly exhausted and didn't know what was happening.

Illyric slowly pulled his horse back, one hand reaching for the longsword at his waist, and whispered, "Your Highness, something is coming from that direction. It's quite large."

"Will it be dangerous?"

Rhaegar immediately adjusted his posture.

"I don't know. It depends on its temperament. A poacher or a wild boar?"

Rhaegar whispered, "Should we ride away quickly to avoid conflict?"

Illyric's voice held a hint of pride, "Don't be afraid, Your Highness. I will stand in front of you."

As they spoke, the rustling grew closer.

A magnificent, snow-white stag emerged from the woods, appearing before them.

"A White Hart!?"

Rhaegar looked at the elegant White Hart in astonishment.

He enjoyed reading history books and naturally knew many customs and traditions.

Before King Aegon the Conqueror unified the Westeros Continent, in the era before dragons.

The kings of the continent regarded the White Hart as an auspicious omen, a symbol of kingship.

More than a hundred years had passed, and the White Hart had long since disappeared from the eyes of the world.

He never expected there to be one still in the Kingswood.

"Your Highness, now is not the time for curiosity. The White Hart is huge, and a charge would be powerful."

Illyric's expression changed slightly. He stared intently at the White Hart, his longsword drawn a fraction of an inch.

Hearing him say that, Rhaegar finally noticed the White Hart's size.

Excluding its massive antlers, the White Hart's shoulder height was an estimated two meters, and its body length was no less than five meters.

Beneath its silky, satin-like white fur, coiled muscles were hidden, making it possible to imagine the power this auspicious creature could unleash.

"Can we win?"

Rhaegar was a little worried.

Illyric: "If it's one-on-one, I have a fifty percent chance."

"What about with me?"

"Let's pray it doesn't attack us first."

Illyric's words were filled with helplessness.

Rhaegar put a hand to his forehead, feeling powerless about his own small arms and legs.

"Yoo-hoo~"

Perhaps heaven still favored him.

The White Hart did not attack. It let out a soft call towards them, its amber eyes full of curiosity and innocence.

"It doesn't seem to have the ferocity of a wild beast?"

Noticing this, Rhaegar's pounding heart eased slightly, feeling the thrill of surviving a close call.

"Yoo-hoo~"

Seeing that they made no move, the White Hart slowly approached, its nostrils twitching as it sniffed the air.

"Sir, please help me down."

The more Rhaegar looked into the White Hart's eyes, the more he felt it was extraordinary. He asked Illyric for help.

"Your Highness, it is very dangerous..."

"The White Hart is an auspicious omen. I believe it is not a wild beast."

Interrupting Illyric's caution, Rhaegar smiled at the White Hart and beckoned to it.

"Come here, my friend."

The White Hart slightly bowed its head, assuming an offensive stance, and blankly regarded the human cub on the horse.

"Quickly, help me down, Sir."

"Be careful, Your Highness. This is no joke."

At Rhaegar's repeated urging, Illyric dismounted, his expression resigned.

As soon as his feet touched the ground, Rhaegar unfastened the small pouch at his waist, took out a few stored red grapes, and called out softly:

"My friend, would you like to try some?"

Seeing the red berries in the human child's hand, the White Hart's eyes lit up, and it involuntarily took a step forward.

When the two were less than three meters apart, Illyric's sharp eyes, like an eagle's, drew his longsword slowly.

Rhaegar immediately stopped him: "Put away your weapon, don't scare my friend."

"Your Highness..."

"That's an order, Sir!"

Under the White Hart's wary gaze, Illyric reluctantly sheathed his sword and followed closely behind Rhaegar.

If there were any real danger, he would protect him immediately.