After sending away the ratcatcher Lorken, Sessa returned.
Rhaegar poured a cup of hot water for Sessa. "Master Sessa, do you find me too sophisticated? I have even studied the cold calculations and methods of politicians."
Sessa looked at Rhaegar without hesitation. "It is not easy for a good man to be a good king. I hope you become a good man, a good king, and a good warrior. Though it is difficult, I will do my best to help you."
Sessa drained the hot water and said, "King Jaehaerys II treated me with great kindness; teaching you the Water Dance is my repayment to him. I am not a White Knight bound to serve House Targaryen; we are friends, and I believe you will become a great and brave prince."
House Targaryen's greatest weakness now was its sparse numbers and fragile strength. Yet, with Sessa, Barristan, and Lorken by his side, and the protection of the Dragonlord Ring, what was there to fear?
To be entrusted in defeat, to command in crisis.
Rhaegar nodded, feeling a fire kindle in his chest.
"I will live up to expectations and achieve greatness."
I will become a true dragon, turning into fire...
...
Outside King's Landing, colorful banners fluttered in the Kingswood.
The Golden Lion, the Sky-Blue Falcon, the Crowned Stag, and the Three-Headed Dragon led the way, followed by the smaller banners of vassal houses.
The hunt had begun.
Though money was tight and no tourney or mock sea battle was held for Lord Jon's arrival or Ser Tywin's wedding, a hunt could still be arranged.
Knights wandered like silver fish in a stream.
Young knights held their banners high, faces full of pride and determination.
Helms crowned with lions, falcons, stags, and dragons rumbled forward, hoping to find good game in the Kingswood.
A wolf would do, a boar was better; if it were a stag, that would be perfect, by the Seven.
The Stag, majestic as a king.
Falcons and hunting were noble pleasures.
Extravagant indeed, but they displayed rank and status.
At Ser Steffon's suggestion, the great noble houses gladly joined in.
The oldest knight was Lord Jon Arryn. After him came Ser Tywin, Ser Steffon, and Prince Aerys.
Rhaegar wanted desperately to join, but his request was denied; he was too young, the risk too great.
A giant boar or a ferocious bear would be terrifying.
So Rhaegar stayed in the outermost tents, crowded with the women.
The women chattered and laughed constantly; to Rhaegar, they were just noise. Only Lady Arryn, older than the others and burdened with heavy responsibilities, always wore a frown.
No matter how powerful the nobles they married, their world seemed to consist only of the small circle of children and family.
Robert had fallen asleep; only Roberta remained in Lady Joanna's arms. Her blue, doe-like eyes were lovely—a likable little girl.
"Could our Silver Prince play another tune for us? I saw you brought your harp," Lady Cassana said.
Rhaegar wanted to refuse; his mind was on the hunt, eager to test his strength, not perform.
"Of course he can," Queen Rhaella smiled, "but a song from Rhaegar will cost you a gold dragon."
"So what? Cassana's gift is ready." The Princess of Dorne produced a gold brooch: the sun-spear of House Martell piercing the day, its dazzling gold inspiring Rhaegar once more.
"You can certainly cover for Cassana; House Baratheon has twins, a heavy expense. I truly envy your twins," Lady Joanna said.
Rhaegar took out his harp and began to play.
Though he preferred steel to books and music now, his talents were still growing; he was a warrior of six dimensions.
He plucked the strings; music welled up like a spring, flowing like a gurgling brook, sweet and clear.
After Rhaegar's performance, the breath of spring rushed over them, slowly drawing everyone in.
"Wonderful! This child will be a Knight of Love and Beauty in the future. He masters both martial arts and music, unlike our men who care only for hunting and tilting," Lady Cassana said with a laugh.
Rhaegar understood her meaning; House Baratheon bred robust warriors who loved hunting, tourneys, and brothels. Ormund and Steffon were exceptions; one married a princess, the other was a true knight. However, Robert would eventually revert to type.
She's right, Rhaegar thought. Your Robert will master hunting, tourneys, whoring, and drinking.
"Bring more dragons next time, Cassana, or you won't be able to afford the Prince's music," the Princess of Dorne teased, and all the women laughed along.
"It doesn't matter; I'll leave my little treasure as collateral." Cassana grinned, pointing to her baby daughter.
"So many children; I really should have brought my Elia and Oberyn." The Princess of Dorne smiled, a warm and free smile, like Dorne itself.
Laughter filled the tent, but Lady Arryn's face remained clouded.
As the noise around her grew, Lady Rowena's expression darkened, sinking into painful memories.
Only Lord and Lady Arryn were old now, yet the Lord still had no heir.
The succession had quietly shifted to his brother's son.
"I long for a child of my own, boy or girl," Lady Rowena sighed. Sometimes she wished her lord would bring home a bastard for her to raise. Lord Arryn's honor was known world-wide, yet he had no trueborn son to carry his name.
"If the Seven will it, you shall have a son, my lady," Queen Rhaella comforted her, embracing her; the others fell silent, though the Queen harbored doubts herself; Lady Arryn was old.
Rhaegar studied Lady Rowena. Lord Arryn was fertile; barring poison, his strong constitution might see him live to eighty.
The lady had no children, likely due to her own frailty.
Perhaps the Fire Seed organization should act again? If Ser Steffon survived, an heir for House Arryn would disrupt their fostering plans.
No one favors a foster son over their own flesh and blood; the Vale would no longer be the key link in the alliance against the dragons.
Green grass is evergreen, and so should men be.
Man is like fire; only when the seed burns does life possess power.
Lady Rowena's weakness might even dampen the help of a Fire Seed.
Soon, the thud of hooves, the clatter of mail, the roar of voices, the scent of meat, and the smell of blood and wine rushed in.
Rhaegar heard Ser Steffon shout: "Lord Arryn is lucky today; he speared a boar himself!"
They had bagged hares, pigeons, wolves, and pheasants, but Lord Arryn's boar was the grand prize.
"A fine omen indeed! May the Lord soon father a child as brave as a mountain eagle and as strong as a boar of the earth!" Prince Aerys laughed.
Cooks got busy on the grass, preparing the boar meat; though tough, it was a fine dish.
"I thank you for the blessing, my Prince. If I fail, I shall take Prince Rhaegar back to the Eyrie as my squire!" Lord Arryn joked, a rare moment of humor for him.
~~----------------------
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