The Prince of Dragonstone

Inside a small tent in the wilderness sat a handful of the most powerful people in the court.

The king sat high above them, with Queen Cersei and Crown Prince Joffrey seated at his sides. Below them were Ser Barristan, Ser Jaime the Kingslayer, and other prominent courtiers.

The king had brought half the court with him on this journey, but perhaps by coincidence, most of them were on good terms with the Lannisters.

Everyone was looking at the king.

King Robert unfolded the letter, and in the next moment his face flushed red from his neck to his forehead.

The letter in his hand was nearly crushed.

"Damn it! To the Seven Hells with them all! I've only been gone a few days—just a few days—and something this big has happened in King's Landing!"

"This is my kingdom, my court!"

No one else in the tent dared to speak. After all, the king had just learned of his younger brother's death.

Although the two brothers had not been close, whether out of the king's dignity or his responsibility as an elder brother, no one doubted that King Robert's anger was genuine.

The king's fury did not subside on its own.

"The laws and blood ties of the Seven Kingdoms leave me no room for leniency. The murderer must be punished severely!"

"He must understand what it means when Ours is the Fury!"

"I'll smash his head with my own hands! I'll trample his family into the dirt and hang him from the ruins of his castle!"

"My warhammer hasn't rusted yet!!"

The king paced back and forth, venting for quite some time before finally calming down a little.

"How do we find the murderer? The real murderer, not that foolish beggar! What do you all think?"

The others exchanged glances.

The old but still vigorous Ser Barristan pointed out several suspicious details.

"By rights, even if the guards failed in their duty, they were at least prepared. With Lord Stannis's skill, he should never have been injured by an ordinary child."

The king did not quite understand the reason either.

"The smuggler beside Stannis thought it was some kind of sorcery, that it made the beggar impervious to swords and knives and made armor as soft as cloth. But he can't produce any evidence. It's absurd."

Joffrey knew exactly why.

The magic energy of the Solid Rune made people immune to injury and made the knife tough and sharp enough to pierce armor. Fire Magic Energy ensured that Stannis had absolutely no chance of survival.

To be safe, he had deliberately attached a mirrored copy of the Solid Rune to the knife as well. Once he sensed that the assassination was over, he immediately destroyed the copy, and the knife returned to its original, ordinary state, leaving behind not the slightest evidence.

That caution was paying off now. No one believed Stannis had died from some mysterious power.

For a while, no one could think of a good idea, so they could only remain silent.

After a long while, Tyrion stepped forward.

"Your Grace, I fear it will be difficult for us to see the truth clearly from here. Why not order Petyr and Lord Varys to investigate carefully in King's Landing?"

"Given Lord Stannis's unyielding nature, identifying the murderer will clearly require a great deal of effort."

"That is precisely what the two of them excel at."

The king looked at the others. "Does anyone have another opinion?"

Tyrion's suggestion was reasonable and would do no harm to anyone present. Who would go looking for trouble for themselves?

Besides, it might truly have been nothing more than a beggar's revenge.

That would not have been strange where Stannis was concerned.

The king waved irritably. "All of you, leave. Handle it as he suggested."

Everyone hurried out.

The tent immediately seemed spacious again, its atmosphere cold and deserted.

Joffrey walked up to King Robert and, unusually, showed a little understanding.

"Father, don't grieve too much. Even if we don't find the murderer, Uncle Stannis will see all your efforts from heaven. He certainly won't blame you."

"You still have us, Father. You still have Uncle Renly, and Lord Eddard."

Robert patted his son's shoulder with relief.

"I'm fine. I know that. Stannis won't blame me."

"Good, my son. You've grown up. That's good, that's good..."

The king's gaze gradually became distant and unfocused, as if he were remembering something.

Flap flap flap.

A great flock of Message Ravens rose from the king's caravan and flew toward every corner of the Seven Kingdoms.

The king sent the lords of the Seven Kingdoms news of Stannis's tragic death and his own profound mourning, along with the announcement that his eldest son, Joffrey Baratheon, had been made Prince of Dragonstone.

The king's decree quickly spread among the caravan's hundreds of knights and soldiers.

Whenever Joffrey passed through the camp, everyone he encountered offered their greetings with even greater respect.

"Good day, Your Highness, the Crown Prince."

"Good day, Your Highness. I await the Prince of Dragonstone's orders at any time."

"Your servant Tyrion Lannister offers his highest respects to our most beloved Crown Prince, the Prince of Dragonstone!"

Joffrey brought Tyrion to the lion's cage.

"Why are you suddenly being so polite, Uncle Tyrion? It's only one additional title. It's nothing special."

Joffrey appeared perfectly calm, but Tyrion did not believe him for a moment.

Although Dragonstone was barren, it was the first fief House Targaryen had possessed in Westeros. For more than two centuries, Targaryen kings had granted it to the heir to the throne. That heir was known as the "Prince of Dragonstone."

With this title, Joffrey's position as heir to the Iron Throne had become even more unshakable.

From a military perspective alone, whoever controlled Dragonstone held a critical advantage.

Any intelligent person should know that Dragonstone and its territories commanded the vast Blackwater Bay. A single fleet would be enough to blockade King's Landing's maritime supply routes.

Its castle was also said to have been built with Valyrian magic, making it sturdy and easy to defend. That was not particularly important, however.

"Your Highness, you truly don't want Dragonstone?"

Tyrion had personally handled Stannis's affairs, so of course he understood Joffrey's thoughts.

"Enough about that, Uncle. Would you like to ride this big fellow around?"

Joffrey leisurely stroked the Giant Lion's mane and gestured for the soldiers beside him to open the cage door.

He had already tamed the beast.

Power fascinated every living creature, and losing power was even harder to accept.

The Giant Lion understood that as well.

It accepted a powerful master and accepted its new name—Rainwater.

The moment he heard the name, Tyrion immediately understood Joffrey's intentions.

Unable to help himself, he began chanting the song in the manner of an aria:

"Oh, he said it, he said it,

The lord of Castamere, he said it.

But now the rains weep o'er his hall,

With no one there to hear.

But now the rains weep o'er his hall,

And not a soul to hear."

Joffrey's enthusiasm did not diminish.

"Seriously, Harrenhal is nearby. We can ride Rainwater there for a visit. Ha-ha, it'll certainly give those people one hell of a shock!"

Rainwater emerged from the cage. It stretched its body, shook out its mane, and threw back its head, roaring without end.

The soldiers in the camp instantly felt wide awake and tireless. They watched the beast's movements in terror, praying that they would not become its first target.

Rainwater lowered its body slightly.

Joffrey climbed into the specially made seat on Rainwater's back, while Tyrion sat behind him.

Roar~

Rainwater sprang forward several yards in a single bound and vanished from everyone's sight within a few breaths.

The soldiers watched this legendary scene with awe.

No one who saw the Stag Crown Prince riding the mythical Giant Lion would dare forget it. No one wanted to forget it. No one could forget it.

They decided to tell this epic tale to their brothers, wives, daughters, sons, and grandchildren—to tell it in taverns, in inns, and beside campfires, until they carried it with them into their graves.