Lord Owen blinked, then quickly broke into a pleased smile.
"Prince, are you going back?"
Lord Tytos heard this and hurried forward.
Daeren moved even faster, grabbing the pair of callused hands that had gripped a sword for years. His voice was full of reluctance. "Uncle Tytos, I've truly troubled you during this time."
The man was a strong, vigorous middle-aged nobleman. Having ridden horses and practiced swordsmanship all year round, he was a typical old-fashioned aristocrat.
"King's Landing isn't safe. You might as well stay at Stone Hedge until I knight you before leaving."
"I'll speak for you before His Majesty."
Tytos was blunt and straightforward. He said whatever was on his mind and never beat around the bush.
Daeren smiled bitterly. The two of them genuinely got along.
He called the man uncle because they did share blood ties.
His great-grandfather, Aegon V, was known as "The Unlikely," though some privately called him "Egg the King."
The nickname came from an extraordinary experience in his youth, one worthy of being remembered for generations: the tale of a wandering knight and his young retainer.
After Aegon V became king, he married Lady Beth of House Blackwood.
By seniority, Tytos had to call Beth Blackwood his grandaunt, while Aerys had to call her grandmother. They were cousins separated by a generation.
Daeren's connection to him could thus be stretched into that of nephew and distant uncle.
Whether it truly counted depended on whether both sides were willing to acknowledge it.
Aerys did not. He did not care in the slightest about House Blackwood, those former in-laws.
Daeren, however, had managed to establish ties with House Blackwood thanks to that mess.
House Blackwood and the Bracken Family were known in the Riverlands as the Bracken and Blackwood Families.
The feud between the two houses could be traced back more than a thousand years.
As for their relationship, even if they did not have a minor brawl every three days and a major one every week, they were still utterly irreconcilable.
The year before his elder brother Rhaegar married, the two great houses had clashed again, for whatever reason.
Fights between vassals should have been handled by the Tully Family, the "Lord of the Trident."
But the Tully Family's position as Lord of the Trident had been propped up by House Targaryen. It lacked the authority to suppress two noble houses of nearly equal strength.
Simply put, they did not command enough respect to control them.
Lord Tully reported the matter to the Iron Throne according to procedure.
Aerys listened to it in passing, then promptly cast it aside.
You cannot even manage your vassals. What use are you, you worthless fool?
After going in circles, the matter landed before Lord Hand Tywin, who investigated and determined that House Blackwood was in the right.
When the Lord Hand reported it to the king,
Aerys flew into a rage.
Everyone says you, Tywin Lannister, are fair and incorruptible. That the Lord Hand is the real king while I, the king, merely enjoy the fruits of his labor.
Fine!
You say House Blackwood is in the right? Then I will support the Bracken Family instead.
He immediately intended to send someone to the Riverlands to take sides.
In the original story, this very matter had deeply wounded House Blackwood's loyalty to the Royal Family, causing the house, long a loyal servant of the crown, to remain absent during the War of the Usurper.
If no one stopped it, events would unfold exactly as before.
At the crucial moment, Daeren stepped forward.
Was it not simply taking sides?
No one understood taking sides better than he did.
Aerys already favored his second son. Seeing him stand on his side, he happily agreed.
Daeren took the opportunity to leave King's Landing.
After arriving in the Riverlands, he first went to Riverrun and dragged out Lord Tully, who had been playing dead, then summoned both great houses to meet.
Openly, he supported the Bracken Family and fulfilled his father Aerys's absurd command.
In truth, he ordered the Bracken Family to return the pastureland it had illegally occupied from House Blackwood, as well as compensate them for the fodder and injured men.
Would the Bracken Family agree?
They would. They had agreed.
The Royal Family had already stepped in to render judgment, and Daeren had placed Lord Tully on the stage. No Riverlands noble dared object.
This naturally earned him House Blackwood's goodwill.
Daeren explained his purpose and, at the proper moment, invoked their blood ties. He was allowed to stay at Stone Hedge as a retainer.
After this incident, Lord Tytos saw the king's folly and developed a desire to protect the young prince, willing to lend him a hand.
He had no thought of hoarding a rare commodity.
At this moment, the noble lords throughout the Seven Kingdoms placed all their hopes on the renowned Crown Prince Rhaegar.
Lord Tytos, who had not paid much attention to the Iron Throne, had also become one of those hoping for Rhaegar to take the throne.
"I'll be fine, Uncle Tytos."
Daeren squeezed his hand to reassure him, then glanced behind him. "Besides, when I return this time, Father will reward me."
Lord Owen, who had been glanced at, hurriedly nodded. "That is indeed the case, Prince."
This was not his first visit. He had already conveyed the hidden condition in the prince's words to both the king and the Lord Hand.
A fief!
He could scarcely believe that the prince had dared ask for such a thing.
Lord Owen only felt that the prince had guts.
"Then I can rest easy." Lord Tytos finally felt reassured.
Early the next morning, Daeren packed his luggage and followed the main party back to King's Landing.
At their parting, Daeren held Lord Tytos's hands and repeatedly urged him to take care of himself, wear more clothes in the cold weather, and be careful with chilled food and drink.
Even a hard man like Tytos was moved. He kept a stern face and said nothing, merely nodding in silence.
Five days later, the people in the party spotted the walls of King's Landing in the distance.
Daeren rode a white horse in the middle of the procession.
Ahead of him was Ser Gerold, the White Bull, wearing a horned helmet. Ser Jon and Lord Owen rode on either side.
"Prince, we're almost there."
Lord Owen offered him a waterskin, pulling him out of his reverie.
Daeren gently shook his head and declined the kindness.
Seeing no one nearby, Lord Owen's eyes shifted as he asked quietly, "Prince, His Majesty values you greatly. Why ask for a fief?"
For House Targaryen, being named Prince of Dragonstone was the true symbol of the heir apparent.
He did not understand.
The prince had actually given up Dragonstone, which he could have fought for, and asked for another fief instead.
Daeren gave him a sidelong glance. "Dragonstone is Rhaegar's fief now. Would he give it to me?"
"Uh..."
Lord Owen was left speechless.
Too lazy to deal with him, Daeren urged his horse forward and widened the distance.
When he reached the front, Ser Gerold, whose bearing remained as immovable as a mountain, turned and gave him a slight nod in greeting.
Daeren returned the gesture without making conversation.
Why ask for a fief instead of fighting for Dragonstone? First, he did not want to fight for it. Second, he could not win that fight.
But the true reason was—
Daeren's vision flickered, and a plain, monochrome panel abruptly appeared before him. Five large words stood in its center: [Stardew Valley Panel]
A system panel, his personal golden finger.
The words "Stardew Valley" inevitably reminded him of a certain leisurely game involving farming, gathering... and all sorts of other things.
It began by freeing you from the urban grind of 007, only to throw you into the wonderful 267 life of rural farmwork.
Just thinking about it made him feel the blissful sensation of being completely drained.
And the condition for activating this panel was owning a farm of his own.
That was the real reason he had asked for a fief.
"Prince, we've reached the Red Keep."
Ser Gerold, traveling with him, spoke in a deep voice.
Daeren looked up. A weathered black iron gate came into view, with vivid Three-Headed Red Dragon banners flying on either side.
They had arrived at the Red Keep.
"Second Brother! Second Brother, I'm here!"
Atop the Red Keep's towering, heavy battlements, a silver-haired little boy of six or seven leaped high into the air, waving and cheering excitedly.
Daeren laughed, dismounted, and entered the castle's forecourt.
"Second Brother!!"
Soon, a warm little one came running and shouting, crashing into his arms like a tiny cannonball.
Daeren caught him steadily and held him in his arms, a smile spreading across his face.
His third brother, Jaehaerys Targaryen, whom he had watched grow up.
With his long-absent brother finally home, Jaehaerys was overjoyed. His little mouth chattered nonstop. "Second Brother, you're finally back. Is the Riverlands beautiful?"
"Beautiful. Green mountains and clear waters everywhere."
"..."
The brothers got along well as they walked into Maegor's Holdfast beneath the gathered gazes around them.
"Second Brother, Father hasn't been in a very good mood lately."
As they walked down the corridor, Jaehaerys furrowed his little brows and shared what he had seen and heard.
Daeren's eyes shifted slightly. "It's fine. He's angry at Rhaegar. It has nothing to do with us."
Jaehaerys seemed thoughtful. He lay against his brother's chest and said no more.
"Heehee..."
"Come on, catch me if you can..."
A burst of girlish laughter and playful shouting drew the brothers' attention.
Daeren lowered his head and looked through the colored glass window of Maegor's Holdfast. In the rear garden, three lovely young girls were chasing one another and playing.
The girls were all striking in appearance, their graceful figures already developing nicely. Their exquisite skirts made them radiate youthful vitality.
Especially the blonde girl being chased. Her skin was white as milk, and she was astonishingly beautiful. Her green eyes carried a faintly seductive charm, as though they could speak.
"Second Brother." Jaehaerys glanced at them, then tugged at his brother's sleeve.
Daeren withdrew his gaze and smiled. "Ignore them. Let's go."
"Mm."
Jaehaerys nodded repeatedly, instantly regaining his spirits.
Throne Room.
A thousand swords taken from defeated foes had been forged by dragonfire into the Iron Throne. Blades layered across its surface, while its towering stairs twisted upward, threatening anyone careless enough to lose their footing.
Its base was even more savage, countless swords forming a forest of blades that drove everyone away while isolating the monarch above.
Daeren came here alone to meet his father.
Upon the Iron Throne sat a tall, gaunt man with long silver-gold hair cascading over him. His head was deeply bowed, hiding his face, and his lips moved as he muttered to himself.
Daeren could not hear him clearly. Used to it, he walked closer to listen.
Shing! Shing!
As he reached the edge of the blades before the Iron Throne, two Kingsguard half-drew their swords and blocked his path.
They were Ser Gerold and Ser Jon.
Daeren stopped and surveyed those present.
On the steps of the Iron Throne stood another broad, powerful Kingsguard, one hand resting on his sword as he guarded the king.
There were no other figures in white cloaks.
At one side of the hall, two men stood side by side, though two or three meters separated their shoulders.
One was a hunched old man with graying hair, dressed in a gray maester's robe.
Grand Maester Pycelle.
The other was a slightly plump man with a shaved head, dressed in fine clothes of black, his face powdered like rouge.
The man wore a gentle smile, his hands tucked into his sleeves. Meeting Daeren's gaze, he gave a slight bow, appearing humble and courteous.
The Master of Whisperers, Varys the Spider.
Before you continue