Game of Thrones: I Am The Heir For A Day

Chapter 133: The Sea Snake’s Difficulties

Rhaegar asked the question deliberately. The Sea Snake's domain was merely an earldom, and given Rhaegar's status as the heir, Rhaenyra's title as Princess of Dragonstone, and Aegon’s position as the king's second son, proper etiquette dictated that Corlys Velaryon should have led his entire household to greet them as a sign of respect for the royal family. However, they were met only by Vaemond and a steward, a clear insult to the Targaryen siblings.

Vaemond, unfazed by the prince’s inquiry, responded calmly, "My brother personally invited guests and, after a long journey, arrived home a bit earlier."

"He has already rushed to the Driftwood Throne Hall to properly welcome the prince and princess," he added.

Rhaegar’s smile faded, and his expression grew cold as he glanced at Laenor. His hand tightened around the hilt of the Dark Sister sword at his waist, and he addressed Vaemond with a measured tone, "Lord Vaemond, do you understand the proper etiquette for welcoming the heir to the throne?"

"Of course, but my elder brother has just returned from a voyage and hasn’t had time to change his clothes. He didn't want to offend you with his appearance," Vaemond replied smoothly, clearly having prepared his excuse.

"Oh, you make a valid point," Rhaegar said, his tone laced with sarcasm, his gaze hardening. The Sea Snake was clearly trying to make a statement.

Sensing Rhaegar’s displeasure, Laenor quickly interjected, "Father has just returned from Claw Isle and meant no disrespect."

"No! I feel no respect from Lord Corlys or the Velaryon House," Rhaegar countered, shaking his head.

He stared directly at Vaemond and commanded, "Fetch Lord Corlys and have him personally greet the royal guests he has sworn allegiance to."

Vaemond attempted another excuse, but Rhaenyra, her temper flaring, cut him off, "Enough, Lord Vaemond. Your excuses are increasingly inappropriate."

Having once been belittled by her own bannermen as the King’s heir, Rhaenyra would not tolerate any slight against her brother. The atmosphere turned icy.

Laenor started to speak again, but the knight beside him discreetly pulled him back, signaling him to remain silent. Vaemond’s frown deepened as he muttered, "Prince, Lord Lyonel is also in the Driftwood Throne Hall, you should—"

Swish—

Before he could finish, the Dark Sister’s blade flashed, its sharp edge pressed against Vaemond’s neck.

"Rhaegar…"

Rhaenyra and Laenor exclaimed simultaneously, the tension in the air palpable.

"Rhaegar, Uncle Vaemond didn't mean any disrespect. What are you doing?" Laenor, as the heir of Driftmark, couldn't remain silent and pleaded helplessly.

Rhaenyra pressed down on Rhaegar's sword arm, her expression tense. "Rhaegar, we are here for peace. Put away the sword."

"Quiet, you should be convincing Ser Vaemond, not me." Rhaegar was unmoved, ignoring their pleas and maintaining his stance, his sword steady.

At this moment, he knew the only thing he could do was to assert his authority. Compromise was not an option.

"Prince, you shouldn't be so impulsive." Vaemond’s voice trembled slightly, feeling the cold steel of the Dark Sister against his neck.

Being threatened by a teenage prince with a sword was unnerving. Who knew if the young royal, in a moment of hot-blooded impulse, might actually decapitate him?

Rhaegar's expression remained cold and unyielding. "Summon Lord Corlys to meet us. Don't make me repeat myself a third time!"

This visit was indeed meant to strengthen ties with the Sea Snake, but as the kingdom's heir, Rhaegar represented royal honor and could not tolerate humiliation.

If the Sea Snake intended to challenge his authority, Rhaegar had only one response: No!

The chill of the blade seeping into his spine, Vaemond's face paled. He hastily said, "Calm down. I'll fetch my brother immediately."

As a warrior who had seen battle, Vaemond knew when to avoid danger. The murderous glint in the prince's eyes made it clear that continued defiance would end badly.

Hearing this, Rhaegar's icy expression softened into a chilling smile. "So be it, Ser Vaemond."

He lowered the blade of the Dark Sister and stroked its spine, his voice soft but firm. "You should hurry."

Vaemond, humiliated and seething, managed to hide his anger behind a tanned face. He turned and walked back toward the castle.

Rumor had it that the heir was known as the Kind Prince, a young man with a temperament similar to his father's.

Experiencing this firsthand, Vaemond silently cursed. Kindness? Nonsense. This prince was a completely different person.

"Rhaegar, I truly apologize for the poor hospitality," Laenor said, his face reflecting his internal conflict. He understood his father's intentions but couldn't openly defy him.

"No matter, just a few twists and turns," Rhaegar replied, sheathing his sword. He didn't enjoy these power plays but knew they were unavoidable. The sharpness of his blade had earned him the respect he needed.

Moments later, the castle doors opened again, and this time, the dignified Sea Snake, Corlys Velaryon, emerged instead of Vaemond.

"Father," Laenor called, rushing forward, fearing a confrontation.

Corlys waved his hand, his expression calm. He approached Rhaegar, bowed respectfully, and then smiled pleasantly. "Prince, I sincerely apologize for the earlier misunderstanding. It was due to my hasty return. High Tide welcomes your arrival. Please accept the Velaryon House's apology, regardless of the past."

His words were carefully chosen to convey both an apology and a subtle assertion of his position.

Rhaegar gave him a surprised look, then laughed. "I accept your apology, and it's also my fault for arriving so suddenly."

This was a polite facade. Lyonel had arrived at Driftmark a day early, and even with a raven, the Sea Snake should have known they were coming. It was a deliberate test of Rhaegar's reaction.

Rhaegar's response had been clear and decisive. Whatever Corlys thought of it, he couldn't afford to be slow in his response again.

"Please come in. I'll take you to the Driftwood Throne Hall, where both Rhaenys and Lyonel are waiting," Corlys said, his smile fading as he regained his dignified bearing.

Rhaegar nodded and followed. He took a moment to glance at Aegon, who was slouching. "Straighten your back and show your royal demeanor. Don’t let outsiders look down on you," he chided.

His words were a lesson for Aegon but also a message to everyone present. Corlys remained unfazed and continued leading the way. Aegon, though internally grumbling, straightened up out of fear of his elder brother.

Rhaenyra, amused by the situation, took Rhaegar's arm, sharing in the royal honor. Despite Rhaegar's rough approach, it was effective, and she admired his boldness.

They walked through the castle gates, up the corner stairs, and into the Driftwood Throne Hall. It was, in essence, a replica of a throne room: spacious, with stone walls adorned with the Velaryon House crest of a seahorse and a series of wave paintings.