The next day.
News spread from the Red Keep.
Once it began circulating, it quickly echoed through every street and alley of King's Landing.
Dragons!!
The King's second son, Daeron Targaryen, had hatched three Young Dragons on Dragonstone and would bring them back to King's Landing.
"Weren't dragons extinct for over a hundred years?"
"I thought dragons were just legends."
"..."
Even in the poorest parts of Flea Bottom, commoners discussed it all at once.
Meanwhile, the Red Keep at the center of the storm had already descended into madness.
Aboard The Rake Prince.
Daeren stayed in his room, planning his next move.
He was the one who had sent out the news.
The Young Dragons could not be hidden for long. Trying too hard to conceal them would only put him at a disadvantage.
Only by spreading the news could he raise his reputation to its peak and perhaps even surpass Rhaegar's years of accumulated prestige in one stroke.
"Only with fame can one attract profit."
Daeren's gaze was far-reaching. He had calculated that this opportunity far outweighed the danger.
"Screech!"
"Screech... screech..."
The Young Dragons were confined in three cages. They flapped their wings and thrashed about, hissing at Daeren in displeasure.
"Don't run around, understand?"
Daeren opened the cages and released the three Young Dragons.
"Screech!"
The Black Young Dragon shot out like black lightning, flew onto Daeren's bed, and began viciously tearing at the bedsheets.
Daeren's face darkened. "Toothless, stop!"
The red Young Dragon was equally restless. Its broad wings supported its serpentine body as it crawled onto the furnace-like incubator and let out a piercing hiss at the lid.
Seeing this, Daeren understood.
The Young Dragons were hungry.
He caught the blue Young Dragon as it tried to fly, placed it on his left