Daeren left the King's bedchamber and headed toward his sister Shaeyane's room.
He had not visited her in a long time.
As for asking Lord Owen for funds, he planned to deal with that tomorrow.
It would give his teacher some time to prepare.
As he walked down the corridor, a burst of clear, girlish laughter drifted over.
"Prince?"
Ser Jon remained alert.
The Kingsguard had its own independent chain of command, with a meeting table and resting quarters in the White Sword Tower. Only the King and the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard were qualified to issue orders.
The King had ordered him to protect the prince, so he would carry out that duty without leaving Daeren's side.
Daeren waved a hand, signaling him not to be so sensitive.
The next second.
A slender figure with flowing golden hair darted out from around the corner and "accidentally" crashed into Daeren's arms. Her feet slipped, and she cried out in pain.
"It hurts."
The golden-haired girl nearly fell, half her body pressed against the solid chest of a strange man.
Daeren: ...
Girl, were you trying to scam him?
"Cersei, you fell..."
"Are you all right..."
Soon, several fashionably dressed noble girls ran out from around the corner in succession. Seeing that the golden-haired girl called Cersei had twisted her ankle, they immediately began asking after her.
Fashionably dressed was not meant as an insult here.
Every one of the girls was beautiful. They wore colorful floral dresses far ahead of the continent's aesthetic standards, carrying the scent of expensive perfumes from Essos across the Narrow Sea. It was as though all the flowers of spring had gathered together.
"I'm fine. I think I twisted my ankle."
Cersei Lannister lightly furrowed her brows and lifted her bright red skirt, revealing a section of fair, smooth calf and a delicate bare foot painted with nail polish.
The beautiful girls immediately fussed over her, quietly revealing her dominant position among them.
Daeren remained impassive as he glanced at the reddened ankle beneath her calf.
"She was ruthless enough to herself. She really did twist it."
No wonder she was a famous master of turning over the table.
Seeing that the silver-haired prince did not react, Cersei raised her lovely face. Her emerald-like eyes shone brilliantly, and her clear voice, distinctive to The Westerlands, said, "Your Highness, you saved me."
"Did I?" Daeren asked in confusion. When had that happened?
Cersei's soft body remained pressed tightly against him as she said directly, "Of course. Otherwise, I would have suffered more than just a twisted ankle."
Anyone could see that this chance encounter was not as simple as it appeared.
Daeren's mind turned, and he played along. "I'm truly sorry. I think I startled you."
"No!"
Cersei hurriedly denied it. Her ten fingers, tender as scallions, gripped Daeren's arms separately. She lightly squeezed, feeling the firm muscles beneath, and said with some urgency, "It wasn't your fault, handsome prince."
The way she spoke, it was practically written across her face what she wanted.
Daeren did not expose her and instead studied her with interest.
Cersei showed none of a young girl's shyness. Instead, she proudly lifted her head, revealing delicate collarbones beneath her swanlike neck and a hint of snowy white skin at her neckline.
It had to be said that she truly deserved her future reputation as "the most beautiful woman in the Seven Kingdoms."
From what Daeren knew, she was fourteen this year. She was still an inexperienced girl, yet she already possessed a woman's full charm.
When you gazed into the abyss, the abyss gazed back at you.
Cersei's rosy lips curled as she admired the young, accomplished, and extraordinarily handsome silver-haired prince from close range.
For a girl, she was quite tall, standing a full 168 centimeters.
Yet in Daeren's arms, she had to tilt her head up to see his face clearly.
She had thought Prince Rhaegar was handsome enough already.
His silver-haired purple-eyed appearance, different from that of the Andals, his handsome face, his violet eyes filled with melancholy, and the heartbreakingly beautiful music he played on the harp drew girls' hearts at every moment.
Compared with him, Jaime, the brother she had been inseparable from since childhood, was like a cowherd.
When the Mad King refused her father's proposal to marry her to Rhaegar, she had spent many nights grieving over it.
Who would have thought that she would encounter another "Silver Prince" in the Red Keep?
The same silver hair and purple eyes, the same extraordinary beauty, and those deep violet eyes, the complete opposite of gloom. It was as if The Seven had endowed him at birth with cheerfulness, tolerance, gentleness, and every other virtue.
He was no less beautiful than Rhaegar in his melancholy, and far surpassed her brother Jaime's frivolous, ignorant sharpness.
Best of all, her father wholeheartedly supported her pursuit of him.
"So this is why I cannot marry the prince, but I will become queen."
Cersei's heart raced, and an inexplicable tremor ran through her body.
Daeren released her and handed her over to the girls watching with infatuated eyes. Then, as if performing a magic trick, he produced a Yellow Daffodil.
"Wow, it's so beautiful."
One noble girl in a green dress with golden hair stared with sparkling eyes.
Then Cersei silently frightened her back with a cold glance.
Holding the Yellow Daffodil, Daeren gave it to the captivated Cersei and softly said, "This is for you. A Yellow Daffodil, symbolizing spring."
"It's beautiful."
Cersei was delighted and surprised. She generously accepted the Yellow Daffodil and inhaled its fragrance in front of her sisters.
It was an ordinary-quality Yellow Daffodil. Though not as precious as Silver Star quality, its fragrance was still just as intoxicating.
"Then, until next time."
Seeing that the timing was just right, Daeren bid her farewell.
"Wait..."
Cersei wanted to talk a little longer, but all that remained of him was his retreating back.
Not to mention her reluctance to part, the girls were thrilled.
They surrounded Cersei one after another, chattering excitedly. "Such a beautiful flower! The prince actually gave it to you."
"Look at this daffodil. Doesn't it look like a special plant?"
One sharp-eyed girl noticed the key detail.
"That's right, that's right. It really does seem to be."
"A flower worth a fortune. Prince Daeren is so generous."
"..."
The girls all talked at once, their eyes fixed greedily on the Yellow Daffodil. If not for their fear of Cersei, they would have already tried to snatch it.
"It's only a daffodil. Once I'm tired of playing with it, I'll give it to you."
Cersei enjoyed their starry-eyed flattery and made a promise to her companions.
A beautiful girl with black hair spoke up. "Cersei, Daeren is only eleven. He's three years younger than you."
"So what?"
Watching the silver-haired figure gradually disappear at the end of the corridor, Cersei revealed a look of absolute confidence and proudly said, "My father is the Hand of the King, the most noble and powerful man in the Seven Kingdoms besides the King."
Since childhood, there had never been anything she wanted but could not obtain.
Not long after, Daeren arrived before a sunlit room, carrying a bouquet of Yellow Daffodils. He gently knocked on the door.
Shaeyane Targaryen was in her room when soft knocking sounded outside.
The girl abruptly looked up.
Having inherited the Targaryen silver hair, purple eyes, and inhuman beauty, Shaeyane was strikingly lovely. Her honey-colored floral silk dress fit her perfectly, quietly accentuating her slender waist.
Recognizing the familiar knock, Shaeyane's expression became complicated. She slowly said, "Come in."
Creak!
Having received permission, the door was pushed open, and two little radishes rushed in like a swarm.
"Sister."
"Shayani, I came to see you."
The older one was Jaeherys. His little face was handsome, and he behaved properly.
The younger one...
"Shayani, I'm here. Why didn't you come greet me?"
Viserys was only four years old. With both hands on his hips, he looked unbearably smug and begging for a beating.
Shaeyane did not say a word and lowered her head to continue her embroidery.
That cold, distant manner made her seem somewhat abnormally withdrawn.
"Hey, I'm talking..."
Viserys was about to act up again when he received a smack to the back of his head. His tiny body staggered, and he nearly fell flat on his face.
"Behave yourself. Don't make me beat you."
Daeren used a little intimidation, making the little brat shudder.
Shaeyane looked up again and gazed at the younger brother she had not seen in a long time.
"I just came from Mother's place and brought these two over to play for a while."
Daeren sat down on the carpet as though completely at home.
Before you continue