Viserys knew his family's wealth: the Targaryen royal family was quite rich, it was only the useless Robert who would run into debt. King Aerys's entourage was proof of the royal family's wealth. Leading the procession were two hundred cavalrymen, holding high the banners of the Red-Black Three-Headed Dragon. They all wore gleaming armor, the metal flashing a dazzling light in the sun, as if about to burn across the plains. Then came a disciplined Gold Cloaks contingent of three hundred men, armed with iron hammers and black iron spears. This group of capable guards had already surpassed the number of any of the Seven Kingdoms lords who came with a cavalry guard, and Aerys's sense of self-importance was not satisfied with just that.
Behind the guards were a large number of mule-drawn luggage carts and a long line of courtiers and nobles accompanying the king in splendid carriages. And one hundred and fifty royal servants wearing uniform gold and silver brocade jackets. Viserys stared intently at the procession, and finally, he saw the figures of the four white-robed Kingsguard! And then... ah! His heart was about to burst with joy! Brother! Brother Rhaegar!!
In that instant, everyone else who was bright and beautiful automatically became the background in his eyes, only highlighting the focal core: the Crown Prince was wearing the famous three-headed dragon ruby black armor, gleaming like a crow's wing. He was riding a tall white horse, without a helmet, his dazzling, breathtaking silver hair tied at the ends with a blue linen ribbon, cascading over one shoulder! He pursed his lips, his purple eyes deep, but his appearance was dazzling and unparalleled! Viserys used all his strength to stop himself from running over and throwing himself into his brother's arms, shouting with joy!!
His hand, which was holding the reins, trembled with joy, and he stared greedily at his brother, whom he had been separated from for four years: why was his brother even more handsome and elegant than he had remembered countless times? He looked at his brother's face, smiling unconsciously, his heart pounding, full of excitement for the upcoming reunion, which he had carefully planned!
At the same time, the Crown Prince Rhaegar in the procession also felt a strange palpitation—his heart was pounding like it was on a galloping horse. Who was it? Rhaegar sensed that there was a burning gaze, clinging tightly to him! Since he was a child, he had been accustomed to being watched by nobles and favored by ladies, but this time the feeling seemed a little different! Out of a warrior's keen instinct, Rhaegar caught the direction of that gaze, and he turned his head to look.
He saw that under the gray direwolf banner on a white background, stood the Stark Duke of The North and his entourage. The Duke was staring intently at him, and so were his children. Rhaegar's purple eyes coldly swept over the long-faced girl in a linen pale green riding outfit, thinking that this was the Winter Rose that his brother, Viserys, had mentioned? His brother was still young when he arrived at Winterfell as a page, and Rhaegar thought his aesthetic judgment and taste still needed to mature—his brother would definitely not fall in love too early, liking a girl who was five years older than him.
Rhaegar, as the Crown Prince and the only son currently accompanying the king, rode ahead of the king's luxurious carriage. The wheels rumbled over the King's Road, and when the royal family passed in front of them, the great nobles who were greeting them on the roadside bowed and saluted—
Lyanna watched the Crown Prince ride away—she thought, he did look as Viserys had boasted, but he felt a little cold. Not as lively and warm and cute as Viserys.
"Hey! Sister!" Benjen whispered in her ear. "The Crown Prince was just looking at you. I'm sure of it, maybe that fortune-telling witch was right!"
Lyanna shrugged indifferently.
Meanwhile, Viserys, disguised as a Northern servant and leading a horse, was squeezed in among the other servants behind Lyanna and her companions, still gazing at his brother's back with infatuated admiration.
The entire tournament would last seven days and nights. As the opening ceremony of the celebration, a grand banquet would be held that night in the huge castle hall of Harrenhal. However, as a disguised servant knight, Viserys was not qualified to enter. Hmph, he didn't care anyway. He would be able to reunite with his brother tomorrow or the day after. Viserys thought, silently watching the historical process of another matter.
Sure enough, Howland Reed, dressed like a wildling, was bullied while drawing water outside the camp. Three servants, no older than fifteen, loudly mocked the Crannogman in his leaf-covered clothes, saying he was a bumpkin and had no right to be at this gathering of knights.
They threw Howland's water bag onto the grass, stomped on it, snatched his frog spear, and laughed at him for eating frogs—
Viserys hid to the side, a little angry. So what if he ate frogs? Just you wait, if this plot wasn't his main stage... He would have told his brother that he was being mocked, and those bullies would be finished. How tall were the trees on the grave of the last one who dared to bully him, The Mountain?
Howland was pushed down and kicked. He couldn't stand up, only curling up to protect himself—those guys with longswords were going to attack him!!
Viserys anxiously peered from behind a tree – Good! Reinforcements have arrived!!
A roar like a lioness, "How dare you kick my father!!" It was the fiery Lyanna! She rushed over, her skirts swirling, and drew the small silver sword she wore – Heh heh! Viserys recognized it at a glance; it was the one he had given her!!
"Come on!!" the she-wolf roared.
The three attendants exchanged glances. They didn't think this pretty girl with gray eyes and brown hair could do anything to them; they were knights!! So, they casually drew their swords, wanting to fight her off.
Viserys continued to peek, nodding. Lyanna's swordplay, learned from watching her brothers practice, wasn't about brute force; she understood technique and footwork, using leverage to her advantage!
Just as he predicted, Lyanna beat the weaklings, who then fled in a sorry state. She then helped the injured Reed and led him to the Stark camp – Actually, she was very interested in the huge, deep ancient castle and wanted to live there and explore. But Lord Rickard judged that the best rooms would definitely be reserved for the Crown Prince and his noble attendants, so they chose to camp outside.
Lyanna and her second brother, Ned, helped Howland bandage his wounds. Facing the gloomy little man, Lyanna encouraged him, "Cheer up, Howland, you're also of noble Northern birth! Of course, you have the right to come here, and you also have the right to attend tonight's banquet! I guarantee your seat will be more prominent and important than those three vulgar lads!"
"Benjen! Don't just stand there like an idiot!" Lyanna ordered her younger brother. "Get some of your clothes out! Let me see which one is most suitable for our handsome and lovely Howland Reed!"
The Crannogman couldn't argue with the gray-eyed girl's stubbornness. As night fell, he followed the Stark family into the hall of Harrenhal. Good gods, he thought, it's as big as a forest in here.
The main hall was called the Hall of a Hundred Hearths, and it truly could accommodate an army. The smooth stone floor now reflected a kaleidoscope of colors: jewels, embroidery, and brocade. Both men and women were dressed in dazzling and luxurious attire. The best among them were the Lannisters and the Highgardeners. Look, Cersei and Jaime, the twin siblings, wore deep green velvet gowns with gold stripes, the cuffs and skirts adorned with gold and green vine patterns. Upon closer inspection, it wasn't pure embroidery thread, but tiny green gems and gold leaves sewn in. Both had golden hair; Cersei wore an emerald tiara, and Jaime had a matching brooch, each the size of a pigeon's egg. In addition, golden necklaces, rings, and bracelets served as casual secondary accessories, shimmering on them.
Only the Highgarden family could rival the proud Cersei in flamboyant attire. They used sapphires to create the blue forget-me-nots on their robes, and the women wore belts made of linked golden roses. Olenna, the one who had refused the marriage to the Targaryen prince, was now an old woman with silver hair. She wore a black silk gown with an emerald leaf brooch paired with a golden Highgarden rose. She sat to the side, looking after her pregnant daughter-in-law—she'd had a very beautiful grandson a few years prior, named Loras. Now she wanted a granddaughter who was equally beautiful, so she could teach her well and make her the most dazzling rose!
The old woman's eyes were sharp as she surveyed the women attending the banquet, secretly assessing the girls from the famous houses one by one. Elia of Dorne seemed listless, wearing a pale purple Myrish lace robe, but she looked thinner than last time, and it was clear her marriage had become a major problem. In stark contrast to her was Cersei Lannister, full of spirit and radiant, but Olenna didn't like her arrogance, shaking her head. "She's not as good as her mother, Joanna."
Then there was Lysa, unmarried of Riverrun, the red-brown-haired girl with a long string of sapphire necklaces. She had been unhappy all along, and the rumors about her falling in love with a low-born noble were probably true. Old Rose scoffed at this: marriage must bring glory to the family! Didn't the daughters of the Tullys understand this?
If Highgarden had a suitable girl now, Olenna would undoubtedly cultivate her to be the Crown Prince's wife or even the Queen. Alas, she thought, looking in the direction where everyone was moving like waves: Crown Prince Rhaegar, holding his silver harp, had arrived in the banquet hall, and the hall seemed to brighten instantly. People stared in astonishment at the Crown Prince in his purple brocade robe and silver belt. He was like moonlight from the heavens, elegant and aloof, melancholic and beautiful.
The most outstanding young man in the Seven Kingdoms, without a doubt. Compared to him, both Jaime Lannister and Robert Baratheon seemed vulgar. Olenna watched him, judging, In the future, my Loras must be cultivated with the Crown Prince as the standard. She thought to herself, Rhaegar the Crown Prince was already twenty-four years old, and the marriage could not be delayed any longer. The old lady of Highgarden didn't think the Baratheons could really find a Valyrian beauty to marry. She thought with great interest, I wonder which of the ladies present will be fortunate enough to become the Silver Prince's wife.
Rhaegar plucked the ancient silver strings of the harp, and the Hall of a Hundred Hearths fell silent. His tune even reached outside the castle—Viserys, who was squatting there, couldn't help but think, My brother's charmed everyone again, hasn't he? Including Lyanna, hehe, but what's that? Anyway, I've enjoyed countless solo performances by my brother just for me! In the godswood! I can still rest my head on his knee! Private solo! I can listen as many times as I want, hehe! So, I don't envy those people inside at all!
Not knowing that the brother he longed for was just on the other side of the wall, Rhaegar poured his unspoken emotions into a sorrowful ballad. He sang:
"My knight, have you seen my son, my knight?
His hair is the color of autumn.
He promised me he would return one day.
Our home is on the streets of the town of Wend.
My knight, have you seen my son, my knight?
His eyes are as bright as spring water.
He promised me he would fight for justice, and would return when he grew up."
Lyanna listened to The Rains of Castamere. She felt as if she truly saw a father coming to the battlefield after the battle in the early morning, searching for his only relative. But the person he loved, with bright eyes, would never open them again, having already been buried. But the man still stubbornly searched, searched----This scene made her sob with grief.
"Haha, sister, you're fascinated by the prince!" Benjen whispered.
Olenna, who was sitting opposite, noticed a girl who was different from the others: she was wearing a gray-blue velvet dress with silver threads, with a long face, brown hair, and gray eyes, and could be considered pretty. She was raising a glass of wine and fiercely splashing it on the head of the child next to her----obviously her younger brother.
Yo! Although she was rude and uneducated, she was quite energetic. Moreover, the old woman's eyes weren't dim, and she found that Robert Baratheon of the Stormlands, had no intention of listening to the music at all, and had been looking at this girl with burning eyes. Then she must be Lyanna Stark of The North.
***
...
The fully completed English PDF of this fan-fic is now available on my Patreon shop.If you want to support my work and enjoy the entire story in one go, grab the PDF and binge-read it from start to finish without any breaks.
Patreon Shop:patreon.com /InkNovels
Here are a few fan-fic titles that I've recently uploaded on my Patreon:
"Game of Thrones: Dragon Prince"
"Game of Thrones: Political Life"
"Game of Thrones: Lannister Kingdom"
"Gods' Apocalypse: What Should I Do When the Loli is a Bit Fierce?"
"My Sister And I are in The Apocalypse"
(End Chapter)