Chapter 292: The Hidden Family Dangers


    Hena was his sister, the one who had always been there for him the most.


    Aegon grunted dismissively. "We have nothing inmon."


    "She tamed Dreamfyre and is a true Targaryen," Aemond replied, his tone t but thoughtful.


    Aegon narrowed his eyes. "Then you marry her."


    Having grown up overshadowed by his older brother Rhaegar, Aegon had no desire topete for power. He craved a life of indulgence and debauchery.


    Aemond stood silent for a moment, his hands clenched into fists beneath his green cloak. He watched Hena, her silver-gold curls bouncing as she meticulously wielded her wooden sword. He knew she wasn''t stupid—just lost in her own world at times. She had likely overheard her mother’s quarrel with Aegon, which had driven her to the Godswood to vent her frustration through sword practice.


    Aegon continued to provoke him with verbal taunts.


    Finally, Aemond lifted his head and said calmly, "I am willing to fulfill my duty if Mother allows us to be betrothed."


    Though he did not fully understand love, he felt sympathy for Hena. Unlike Aegon, he would not shirk his responsibilities to the family.


    "If?" Aegon scoffed. Their mother had tried to push Hena onto him to manage this "different" rtive. Aemond, for the moment, was not in a position to take his ce.


    Aemond, revealing more of his thoughts, said calmly, "It will strengthen the family and keep the Valyrian bloodline pure."


    Aegon was taken aback by his words. "She''s an idiot."


    "She may well be your future wife," Aemond said seriously.


    "Tsk." Aegon clicked his tongue, as if seeing his brother in a new light. How dare he contradict him.


    Bending his knees to bring himself level with Aemond, Aegon taunted, "In fact, we have one thing inmon: we both like long-legged beauties." He grinned wickedly and whispered in Aemond’s ear, "Remember? Get this ce wet."


    These were the same crude words he had used thest time he had taken Aemond to a brothel.


    Aemond bristled with disdain.


    "Che, boring."


    Not getting the reaction he wanted, Aegon stalked off alone, thinking his brother was as stupid as Hena.


    Aemond watched him go, disappointment surfacing in his eyes. "Aegon..."


    Deep down, he wished for a close bond with Aegon, Hena, and Daeron, just like Rhaenyra and Rhaegar shared. That’s what his mother, Alicent, had instilled in him, and he believed it himself. But Aegon’s poor character and irresponsible attitude frustrated him deeply.


    Amotion from within the Godswood broke his reverie. Hena had knocked the wooden sword from Mushroom''s hand and was walking away, panting, out of sight of the open-air gallery.


    As he watched her retreating figure, Aemond thought about his family and their differences. Feeling a familiar pang of istion, he lowered his head and muttered, "I still don''t have a dragon."


    ...


    After the fight, Hena felt exhausted, struggling to carry her wooden sword. All she wanted was a ss of cold, sweet wine and to copse on her bed.


    "Hena," came a soft call.


    She looked up, surprised to see her brother Rhaegar standing under the fish beam wood. "Brother, I thought it would take a dinner party to see you."


    Her mood immediately brightened. She studied him closely, noting his paleplexion, angr face, and mncholy aura. Most noticeable was his short silver-gold hair, a sharp difference from his usual long locks.


    Rhaegar waved and smiled. "I saw you practicing your sword."


    "No, just ying around," Hena stammered, embarrassed to have been caught.


    She spotted Rhaenyra sitting nearby with a green dragon egg in her arms and greeted her softly, "Sister."


    Rhaenyra nodded, but remained seated. Rhaegar, sensing Hena''s shyness, changed the subject. "Is it Aegon that''s bothering you?"


    Hena, usually quiet and introspective, had been practicing with her sword - a sign that something was on her mind. She shook her head, her interest waning. "No."


    Seeing her distress, Rhaegar took her hand gently. She dropped her wooden sword and walked obediently to his side.


    "Something on your mind?" Rhaegar bent to face her, their eyes level. Her cheeks were flushed with exhaustion, and a thin sheen of sweat covered her forehead.


    She stared at him withrge, watery eyes, and he could see her hidden emotions. "If you are in trouble, you must tell me," he said quietly.


    He already knew the cause: House Baratheon''s disrespect had led to talk of Aegon''s marriage, with Alicent wanting to manipte the unions of her children.


    "House Targaryen doesn''t have to sacrifice anyone," Rhaegar insisted, rubbing his head. With a dozen dragons and several battle-ready dragon riders, their family was strong. He wanted to protect his siblings and unite the Targaryens.


    "Brother..." Hena''s voice was low, touched by his concern. "Mother wants me to marry Aegon. They had a big fight."


    Rhaegar''s eyes flickered, understanding much from her words. Aegon had always been dismissive of Hena, a fact that had frustrated Rhaegar.


    He didn''t ask if she wanted to marry Aegon. Instead, he gently ced his arm around her and asked, "Did they argue in front of you?"


    Hena nodded vigorously, burying her face in his arms.


    "They should ask your opinion," Rhaegar said, stroking her silver hair. "Good girl, I knew you were upset."


    "Hmm..." Hena''s voice was small, her eyes red as she fought to hold back tears. She had been aware of the argument, and it had hurt her deeply.


    "Shhh, no crying." Rhaegar cupped her face, wiping away her tears. "If you want to change things, you have to be brave."


    While he could influence the marriage negotiations with House Baratheon, he couldn''t easily sway Alicent''s intentions for her children''s marriages. He needed to encourage Hena to find her own strength.


    "Brave," Hena repeated, curling up in his arms, clutching her wooden sword. She pondered deeply on the meaning of bravery, seeking strength in her brother''s words.


    ...


    That night, a great feast was held in the Red Keep to celebrate Rhaegar''s return. Viserys had invited many guests and nned an all-night feast.


    After only a few sses of wine, Viserys began coughing violently, his face turning red.


    "Drink slowly," Alicent said gently, wiping the corners of his mouth with a cloth.


    Viserys forced a bitter smile and muttered, "I can drink a thousand cups."


    Sitting nearby, Rhaegar watched with concern. As Viserys aged, his health had deteriorated, and the wounds inflicted by the Iron Throne never fully healed, causing constant pain. Excessive drinking and debauchery only worsened his condition.


    "Cheer up, this is a party for you," Rhaenyra whispered, sitting close to him.


    Rhaegar furrowed his brow and raised his ss to clink with hers.


    "There''s an council meeting tomorrow. You should drink less," Rhaenyra said, her eyes full of concern as she ced some of his favorite foods on his te.


    Rhaegar smiled helplessly. "Of course."


    After a bit of eating, the banquet moved into the dancing phase. Seizing a moment when no one was watching, Rhaegar took a parchment book left by the Shadowbinders from his spatial bracelet and flipped to the section on the ancient knowledge of Berys.


    The stone wall not only recorded "forbidden spells," it also contained valuable information about dragons that the Targaryenscked. One passage in particr caught his attention - it discussed the coexistence of dragons and their riders.


    It suggested that riders influenced the emotions of their dragons, and dragons in turn influenced the will of their riders. Prolonged contact could even affect their physical bodies.


    Rhaegar found this perspective fascinating. He believed that his own bloodline had been influenced by his bond with Cannibal, gradually strengthening it.


    Perhaps his father could benefit from a new bond with the family''s dragons. It might help him heal.


    ...


    The Next Morning


    Inside the Council Hall, sunlight refracted through the ss windows, casting a warm glow over the long table of the Small Council.


    ng-


    Rhaegar, dressed in a white tunic with a striking red-striped shirt, stood calmly observing the room. As the Heir Prince, he always sat to his father’s left at the council meetings.


    Lord Lyonel sat opposite him. Rhaegar smiled politely, nodding to each of the royal advisers as his gaze fell upon the two women at the table.


    Rhaenyra, in a strapless red dress, sat beside him. Alicent, her faceposed, sat next to her husband, apart from the advisers.