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The Seventh Day.
The final day of the Tourney at Harrenhal.
Daeron attended as promised to watch the tourney finals.
In the past few days, two things had happened.
As expected, Rhaegar met Lyanna, concealed her identity, and only brought back a Weirwood shield to report back.
However, he kept the Weirwood shield for himself, almost treating it like a token of affection.
Unexpectedly, Tywin did not expose Lyanna. He likely didn't want to offend the STAB alliance (Stark, Tully, Arryn, Baratheon) and chose to sit high in the stands and observe.
Cersei, on the other hand, became even more aggressive in her pursuit of Daeron, determined not to stop until she had him.
"Prince, Ser Arthur Dayne's idea is excellent."
Barristan held Neptune's Great Sword, studying the newly discovered circulation path for his Vitality.
Daeron listened intently.
He had flirted with Ashara to win over Ser Arthur's allegiance.
Both brother and sister were good people.
In another row, Cersei stared at Daeron, who was engrossed in discussion, a stubborn glint in her eyes.
She had told her father about Lyanna disguising herself as the Knight of the Laughing Tree.
Her father hadn't acted on it, instead warning her not to make a scene.
This little secret would be excellent leverage in the future.
"Hmph, I'll get you sooner or later."
Cersei refused to admit defeat.
After learning that Daeron was the source of the information, her father had boldly encouraged her to pursue him.
I really am his good daughter.
Except for one thing.
Tywin had said sternly, "Never, ever try to drag your brother into this. Jaime is the heir to Casterly Rock, not a toy you can summon and dismiss at will."
Every time she recalled that moment, Cersei felt a chill run down her spine.
She had thought about keeping Jaime in King's Landing, but now she was forced to restrain those thoughts.
She didn't want her legs broken and to be married off to some powerful old man as a second wife.
Boom—
Suddenly, a muffled sound came from the arena.
Daeron looked up.
Rhaegar, clad in black steel armor and a red cloak, was charging at high speed on his unicorn, his lance knocking an opponent flying.
Clang, clang, clang!
The herald struck the gong and cheered, "Congratulations to Prince Rhaegar Targaryen, Prince of Dragonstone, the Champion of the Tourney!"
It was the final day, and the champion had emerged.
Daeron frowned, watching Rhaegar's next move.
"What is it, Prince?"
Barristan was puzzled.
Since the fourth day, Prince Daeron had stopped participating in the tourney to study the path of Vitality, leaving the field open for Prince Rhaegar to dominate.
It was no surprise that Prince Rhaegar had won the championship.
Daeron said nothing, waiting to see what would happen.
With the champion decided, it was time to present the "Queen of Love and Beauty" with the laurel.
"Prince Rhaegar! Prince Rhaegar!"
Under the gaze of thousands, the cheers were deafening, a full endorsement of the heir to the Iron Throne.
Rhaegar rode his snow-white unicorn and lifted a blue flower wreath with his lance.
The wreath was the crown.
Every participant who made it to the finals would prepare a wreath in advance to present if they won.
Rhaegar's wreath was woven from Winter Roses of the North.
Clearly, he had prepared this long ago.
Daeron was perplexed. "Rhaegar, are you truly mad or just pretending!?"
He couldn't understand.
Meanwhile, the noble ladies in the stands were cheering, many squeezing to the front row in anticipation.
"Ashara, look."
Elia tugged at her companion's hand, smiling happily. "Rhaegar won."
Ashara was happy for the Princess, but her gaze involuntarily drifted toward Daeron.
She also wished someone would win the championship and place the crown of Love and Beauty on her head.
However, Daeron's face was solemn.
"Hyah! Hyah!"
On the field, Rhaegar rode his unicorn around the arena once, then raised his lance high and brought it to the edge of the stands.
"The gallant Prince is going to give the wreath to his beloved Princess."
Robert laughed heartily, his shoulder bandaged, cheering for the tall, handsome, and skilled Crown Prince.
No one in the Seven Kingdoms disliked Rhaegar.
The entire crowd watched intently, assuming Rhaegar would give the wreath to his wife, Elia.
Then, the unexpected happened.
Rhaegar paused for a second in front of Elia's seat, then quickly rode past her, stopping instead in front of where Lyanna sat.
He presented the wreath of Winter Roses to Lyanna Stark.
Even more shocking was the reaction.
Lyanna didn't seem surprised at all. She accepted the wreath openly and placed it atop her long black hair.
A moment etched in history.
Robert's smile vanished instantly, replaced by rage as he shot up from his seat.
But someone was faster.
Brandon Stark slammed the railing in anger, shouting, "Rhaegar, what is the meaning of this!?"
His sister was betrothed.
Rhaegar completely ignored him, gazing deeply at Lyanna, admiring her valiant beauty.
Lyanna smiled back, exchanging glances of affection with her lover.
Robert's eyes were bloodshot; he looked ready to explode right there.
"Robert, calm down!"
Ned and Elbert Arryn held him down together to prevent an incident.
Brandon was also pulled back by the "Blackfish" Brynden Tully, who effectively shut the man's honeyed mouth.
"You suit this crown perfectly."
Rhaegar whispered his praise, then slowly rode away on his unicorn.
Silence!
The atmosphere was eerily quiet.
The cheers and applause died instantly as the crowd stared at the scene in shock, unable to comprehend what had just happened.
Daeron: "Let's go, Ser."
His opponent had just made a foolish move, effectively destroying his own claim.
Facts proved that Rhaegar was simply not fit to sit on the Iron Throne.
Daeron needed to plan for himself.
Taking advantage of the cracks appearing in the relationship between the Stags, Wolves, Eagles, and Fish, it was the perfect time to break up alliances and win over new allies.
Barristan was also stunned.
Speechless, he followed the Prince out.
---
The matter blew up.
Prince Rhaegar won the Tourney at Harrenhal but did not give the crown of Love and Beauty to his wife Elia. Instead, he gave it to Lyanna Stark, the betrothed of Lord Robert Baratheon.
But somehow, the situation was suppressed.
Rhaegar abandoned his original plan to summon the lords for a Great Council and left quickly with his retinue.
Lyanna, who accepted the crown, was unharmed and was preparing to return to the North with her brothers.
Even the most agitated Lord Robert and "Wild Wolf" Brandon held their tempers and chose not to explode.
Everything seemed calm on the surface.
Crash!
A wine goblet shattered, splashing red wine onto the carpet.
Aerys's face was twisted in fury as he roared, "Guards! Arrest that unfilial son! I will strip him of his inheritance!"
"The White Bull," Ser Gerold Hightower, remained silent.
Prince Rhaegar had abandoned his plans and left Harrenhal peacefully.
But the King had somehow gotten wind of it and was adamant that Prince Rhaegar was plotting to usurp the throne, demanding his arrest.
Lord Staunton said indignantly, "Your Grace, Prince Rhaegar publicly humiliated Lord Robert. I say he intends to provoke a war between the Iron Throne and House Baratheon."
"Arrest him! Arrest him!"
The more Aerys thought about it, the angrier he got, smashing everything within reach.
Chelsted, Lucerys Velaryon, and Varys were silent as the grave, playing dead in the room.
Who could believe that Rhaegar would publicly profess his love for Lyanna, simultaneously offending the Lord of the Stormlands and the Heir to the North?
Neither of these regions was to be trifled with.
House Baratheon was loyal, yes, but historically proud and willful. There was the example of the Laughing Storm's rebellion, and later Lord Steffon and his wife dying in Shipbreaker Bay while seeking a bride for Prince Rhaegar.
They were not only strong fighters but also had the moral high ground.
The North was even worse. With the natural barrier of the Neck, no one could march an army north.
However, the Starks could easily cross the Neck, head south to link up with their in-laws, the Tullys of Riverrun, and launch an attack on the Iron Throne.
They could attack at will and retreat to safety.
If these two great houses joined forces, it meant the alliance of the Eagle, Stag, Wolf, and Fish.
That was half the realm!
Aerys shouted, "Are you deaf? Go arrest Rhaegar!"
"Your Grace, Prince Rhaegar is already on his way back to Dragonstone."
Tywin stepped forward.
Aerys was displeased. "So what?"
Tywin cut straight to the point. "If we send men to chase Rhaegar, who will protect Your Grace's safety?"
Both the Gold Cloaks and the Dragonkeepers were in the hands of his good student, Daeron.
The only troops currently at Harrenhal were the Kingsguard and Lannister soldiers.
Who could he send?
Aerys paused, instantly deflating.
"Your Grace, rather than ordering the arrest of Prince Rhaegar, it would be better to consider how to quell Lord Robert's anger."
Tywin was excellent at seizing opportunities. He spoke righteously, "Prince Rhaegar's actions are utterly absurd. He does not look like a ruler. Having him succeed the Iron Throne is truly worrying."
To be honest, even he didn't understand Rhaegar's goal.
Thinking it over, he concluded that Rhaegar and Lyanna had developed personal feelings after he chased her down.
Perfect. It gave him an opening to attack.
"Does not look like a ruler...?"
Aerys muttered to himself, but surprisingly stopped clamoring to strip his eldest son of his inheritance.
He had his own twisted logic.
If Tywin said something was right, he would say it was wrong.
If Tywin pointed East, he would go West.
His second son had dragons and had already built a power base.
If he supported his second son to take the throne, he would definitely lose control, and the boy might turn on him and kick him off the throne.
The eldest son was just right.
His reputation in the Seven Kingdoms stank, and the Small Council didn't like him.
Keeping him in the position of heir could block the second son's ascent, and Aerys could still discard him whenever he pleased.
"Your Grace, please make a decision soon."
Tywin didn't understand his old friend's thoughts and tried to persuade him.
"No!!"
Aerys roared, "Let Rhaegar stay in that position! Only when I want to depose him can he get out of Dragonstone!"
???
Tywin frowned, deeply confused.
Aerys didn't care about any of that. He shouted, "Call Daeron! Have him send men to protect me on the way back to King's Landing."
The world was full of traitors; he couldn't stay in this dangerous place.
His self-preservation instinct was extremely strong.
"Your Grace?" Tywin tried to probe.
Aerys snapped immediately, "Silence! I am the King!"
Tywin took a deep breath, gave the man a cold glare, and stormed out, slamming the door.
The remaining ministers scattered like birds.
...
Meanwhile.
Daeron's first target was the "Blackfish" Brynden Tully, considering him the optimal person to win over.
Unexpectedly, when he arrived at the door, he only saw a solitary Jaime.
Daeron had a bad feeling and asked, "Where is Ser Brynden?"
"He's gone."
Jaime looked a bit disappointed. "I wanted to ask him for advice on swordsmanship, but I couldn't find him."
"Prince, there's a note."
Davos circled the room and found something.
Daeron opened it and took a look.
It turned out that as soon as the tourney ended, the "Blackfish" packed his bags and quietly slipped away back to Riverrun.
He ran fast!
Daeron was amused. "Truly a slippery black fish."