Game of Thrones: I Am The Heir For A Day

Chapter 562: It’s Over! They’re All Coming for my Children!

King's Landing, Red Keep.

Rhaegar woke early and made his way to the throne room, his eyes still half-closed. Today, he would summon his advisers to discuss the upcoming celebrations and his wedding.

"Your Grace."

As soon as he stepped out of his chambers, Erryk and Tormund followed him. Rhaegar, surprised, asked, "What brings my Kingsguard captain and Master of Whisperers together?"

These two rarely mingled, each being dedicated to their distinct roles.

"Your Grace, it's like this..." Erryk began hurriedly, glancing at Tormund.

Tormund, maintaining his friendly demeanor, said, "You go first, I'm in no hurry."

Rhaegar licked his lips, sensing trouble. "Your Grace, it's about the deployment of the Kingsguard brothers," Erryk said, pacing steadily and speaking in a serious tone. "There are seven Kingsguard in total. Excluding me, the five Princes each have one, leaving us short on manpower."

"Uh..." Rhaegar hesitated. Apart from Visenya, who was still a baby, his five children were free to move around. Ser Arryk had been assigned to Baelon as his overseer and trainer.

Ser Lorent had been transferred from Rhaenyra's side to protect Aemon. Ser Steffon had crossed the Narrow Sea to Volantis to protect Maekar. The remaining children, Daenerys and Lyanna, still had no personal guards.

"With so many children, there aren't enough resources to go around," Rhaegar said with some distress. "Can the three of them spare some time?"

Jeyne had arrived in King's Landing the previous day with her eldest daughter Dany and her companions Jessamyn and Skylar. All three sons had Kingsguard protection; it would be unfair to treat the daughters differently.

Erryk shook his head helplessly. "Cole is still recovering from his wounds, and the other two are assisting with patrols at the Red Keep. Besides, the workload of the Kingsguard is very heavy and varied."

"Can't Cole be reassigned?" Rhaegar asked, still hoping for the best from the former Kingsguard Commander. It wasn't unreasonable to have one Kingsguard protecting two daughters.

"I'm afraid that won't work," Erryk said, looking troubled.

Tormund, recognizing the need for timely intervention, spoke up. "Your Grace, this is also one of the pieces of information I wanted to report."

"Tell me," Rhaegar stopped in his tracks, contemplating the potential problems that persisted even after the war.

Tormund smiled shyly. "According to a report from Myr, Prince Aemond took Otto Hightower captive on his dragon and sent him to Claw Isle to propose marriage."

"Otto, that old fox?" Rhaegar thought he had heard wrong.

Tormund shrugged. "Yes, him. He's served on a dozen farms over the past six years, barely visible to anyone."

Otto had worked hard for six years, his hair almost completely white. "A cunning old fox, but unfortunately toothless," Rhaegar pondered. "Aemon is proposing to Claw Isle. Does Lord Celtigar have a cousin's daughter to marry?"

The late Lord Bartimos Celtigar had only one son and one daughter. At best, he had a nephew who had been raised as a child. Rhaegar had never heard of a girl of marriageable age.

"Your Grace, this is a rather complicated matter," Tormund said, a strange look in his eyes. "Prince Aemond has his eye on Lady Celtigar, the widow of Ser Laenor."

Rhaegar was stunned.

Tormund continued, "Otto sent a raven this morning on behalf of Prince Aemond, asking the royal family to approve the marriage and send someone to the ceremony."

Erryk quickly added, "The message said that Prince Aemond wants to develop overseas and has asked for Cole's help as a tutor."

Rhaegar thought for a long time before shaking his head and laughing. "Aemon wants to marry a widow and has also won over Cole." He paused, reflecting on the situation. "It's not that widows are unsuitable, but Laenor's preferences were so well-known that it was widely believed Celine was still a virgin. Marrying Celtigar's daughter, Velaryon's widowed daughter-in-law, is both chaotic and brilliant."

The key was Cole. He had taught Aemond the ruthless swordsmanship for many years, and it seemed the two frustrated men had found common ground.

Erryk, nervous, said, "Your Grace, I can guarantee the loyalty of every Kingsguard brother. Cole will never betray you."

"The white cloak is a badge of honor that must never be tarnished."

"It's all right. Cole hasn't had an easy life these past few years," Rhaegar smiled. Since his early days, Cole had first defeated the Cargyll brothers in a tournament, crushed Harwin's collarbone, and won the favor of Rhaenyra.

After the death of the previous Kingsguard captain, Harrold, he was elected the new captain at a young age. He was demoted to an ordinary guard after making a mistake with Tyland on the Stepstones.

He fought his way through a crowd of competitors at the Gods Eye tournament and was promoted to Kingsguard again. During the war in Dorne, Cole did not receive any credit, but he did his fair share of the work. After the war, he continued to teach Aemond how to fight. His life had been full of ups and downs, and as the son of a steward, he was often mocked by many nobles, both openly and secretly.

Tormund, always watching the king's expressions, asked, "Does Your Grace accepts Prince Aemond's request in full?"

It's a big request—a self-arranged wedding and a Kingsguard who has seen a hundred battles.

Rhaegar did not answer immediately, weighing the situation. "What is Aemond up to?" he wondered aloud. The boy was arrogant and proud, not one to be left to his own devices.

"As you would expect, Your Grace," Tormund replied, pulling a letter from his white sleeve. "After leaving Meereen, Prince Aemond not only found Otto Hightower, but also recalled the Dothraki cavalry and ordered the tribe to migrate to the Forest of Qohor."

"Qohor," Rhaegar muttered, his eyes flashing. Qohor was a closed and rigid city-state, ranking in the middle and lower reaches of the nine Free Cities. Its only two distinguishing features were its mountainous inland location and its high level of craftsmanship.

"An arms dealer who is used to making a fortune from war," Rhaegar smiled playfully.

Erryk and Tormund stepped back, waiting respectfully for the next part of the conversation.

"It's not urgent to send the Kingsguard to the Princess," Rhaegar decided after a moment of thought. "I will not interfere with Aemond's marriage. Ask Cole if he wants to go."

"Your Grace!" Erryk was shocked. He did not want to lose a Kingsguard brother.

"No need to say more," Rhaegar waved his hand to interrupt, frowning. "Ask Cole if he wants to go. By the way, he can represent the royal family at the wedding."

A Kingsguard who is not concerned about the royal family and is deeply utilitarian makes the white robe seem particularly heavy. It is better to let him go than to keep him around. This decision could also serve to urge Aemond.

"Then that's it," Tormund said, never one to procrastinate, and left after following orders.

Rhaegar then looked at Erryk. Erryk had no intention of giving up any of his Kingsguard brothers, but he could not resist the complexity of human hearts. Reluctantly, he agreed. "Yes, Your Grace."

The Throne Room

The empty hall was dark, with the Dragonstone floors glistening in the dim light. The Small Council advisers stood on the left, while the nobles and princes stood on the right. All eyes were fixed on the Iron Throne, a symbol of both majesty and loneliness.

The Iron Throne had been recast, its forest of swords melted down to form a majestic, towering seat of steel. With a loud boom, the doors slowly opened, and Erryk stepped forward, his expression solemn:

"Welcome, Rhaegar I of the Targaryens, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm, Lord of the Narrow Sea, Lord of the Disputed Lands, Liberator of the Slaves, and Dragon Shepherd!"

Applause crackled through the hall as the advisers turned to show their admiration. Between the grand doors, Rhaegar entered, wearing the black crown of the conqueror. His tall figure was straight, his cold face expressionless. The nobles and aristocrats exchanged glances, lowering their heads whenever they met the king's sharp gaze.

Rhaegar ascended the 18-foot-high steps and turned to sit on the cold Iron Throne. The seat was square with a wide, high back, and at its center was the emblem of a three-headed red dragon, with three dragons winding around the edges. It symbolized the three dragons of the Targaryen dynasty: Balerion, Meraxes, and Vhagar.

"My lords, the celebration is about to begin!" Rhaegar announced, leaning back and resting his hands on the dragon-shaped armrests. "Many have come a long way to be our guests." He stroked the dragon's head with his palm, the armrests modeled after the Bronze Fury and Silverwing, to commemorate King Jaehaerys and Queen Alysanne.

The advisers looked up at the Iron Throne, high above them, and offered their thanks. Compared to its previous dangerous appearance, the Iron Throne now exuded a majestic and solemn aura. A glance from afar was enough to inspire awe.

Next, the king's advisers took turns reporting on the affairs of state that had fallen behind during the war. These were trivial matters, but it was how they demonstrated their presence. Rhaegar's face remained expressionless, but his heart grew bored.

"Your Grace," a female voice called out after a long time. A figure stepped out of the crowd. Rhaegar turned to see Maris, well-made up and wearing a magnificent dress. She bowed respectfully. After her older sister Cassandra's death, she had become the undisputed Lady of Storm's End. In just two months, her situation had changed dramatically. She was in the prime of her life.

When Rhaegar saw her, he immediately thought of the people investigating Cassandra's death. He said politely, "Lady Maris, I am truly sorry for your sister's death."

"Thank you. My sister died without suffering," Maris smiled, then changed the subject. "Your Grace, my sister was engaged to Prince Aemon. This was a marriage between the royal family and House Baratheon. I hope it can continue."

She spoke calmly and directly. Rhaegar frowned slightly, suspecting Cassandra's death was connected to Maris and realizing just how ruthless she could be.

"I heard that your sister had found a husband for you before she died?" Rhaegar glanced at Maris, feigning confusion.

"Yes," Maris admitted, stating her purpose. "But I am not yet betrothed." With her sister's death, she intended to take her place.

Rhaegar's eyes flashed with understanding. "No wonder she hurried to King's Landing. She couldn't bear to give up the marriage," he thought. According to the agreement between their families, the firstborn would bear the Baratheon name. Per the Targaryen laws, Aemond's direct descendants would have the right to ride dragons. Even one dragon rider would ensure the prosperity of House Baratheon for decades.

Rhaegar's eyes narrowed slightly as he looked at the two other women in the hall.

As the Lady of the Eyrie, Jeyne stood like a proud eagle, leading her eldest daughter Daenerys and her second daughter Lyanna, representing the Vale faction. She noticed his gaze and nodded slightly.

Next to her was Margaery Tyrell, representing Highgarden and House Peake. In her early twenties, Margaery was in the prime of her beauty. She wore a light green dress that hugged her figure, her brown hair plaited and hanging down her chest, her eyes as bright as a fawn's. Margaery smiled, holding the hand of a young boy.

Rhaegar glanced at her and then looked away. Margaery's reputation was that of a beauty with little substance. Her stepmother had recently given birth to a son named Lyonel Tyrell, the worried-looking boy at her side.

This powerful woman had quickly arranged a marriage for Margaery with the Lord of Rowan. However, Margaery was not one to be easily controlled. Under the pretext of offering condolences, she traveled to the Dornish Marches, where she "happened" to meet the then Lord of Peake.

After Unwin Peake's death, his title and lands were inherited by his cousin, Lord Roman Peake. Roman fell in love with the "kind-hearted" Margaery at first sight and vowed to marry her. Margaery, in search of a suitable husband, found a perfect match in him, and the two hit it off immediately.

Then...

On the night of the wedding, Roman was drunk and died in the bridal chamber. Margaery became a widow and inherited not only her husband's fortune but also the three castles of House Peake. But the story didn't end there. Within six months, her stepmother died unexpectedly while embroidering in the middle of the night.

Margaery volunteered to move from Starpike to Highgarden to care for her infant brother, Lyonel, as Regent. She cared for him for six years. Feeling Rhaegar's gaze, Margaery smiled even wider and patted her brother's hand. "Little Lyonel, talk to the two Princesses more often," she said with a kind smile directed at Jeyne, who stood nearby.

Jeyne frowned slightly but remained silent.

"Sister," Lyonel Tyrell clung to his sister's hand, too scared to move.

"Don't be afraid, the Princesses are lovely girls," Margaery said gently. Little Lyonel looked timidly up at the two girls.

"Hmph, I'm not playing with you," Lyanna said, rolling her eyes and turning her head away in disgust. Daenerys, listless, leaned on her mother's lap, paying no attention to the exchange.

Rhaegar, with his keen senses, heard Margaery's whisper and was suddenly very confused. No wonder she was eagerly heading to King's Landing.

She is greedy for his daughter. For six years she had behaved like one, so she really thought she was a Lady Regent.

Before he could respond, Maris continued, "The marriage was arranged by King Viserys and my mother, hoping the two houses would work together."

Rhaegar smiled, but his eyes remained cold. "I'm sorry, but Lady Cassandra has passed away, and Aemond has already chosen a new bride. He cannot fulfill the marriage contract."

"When?" Maris asked in surprise. Her sister had just died, and the coffin had not yet been buried.

Rhaegar feigned regret: "It is a marriage with House Celtigar, and I was informed of this not long ago."

He thought, 'One is a bad woman, and the other is even worse. Cassandra was foolish but not evil, lacking the capacity for it. Maris, though not beautiful, was cunning and unsuitable for marriage into the royal family.'

Hearing that Aemond had already been promised in marriage, Maris' breathing became heavier, and she gritted her teeth. "Your Grace, I sincerely hope that the marriage between our two houses can be completed."

"There is no suitable candidate," Rhaegar spread his hands and smiled. "All three of my brothers are already betrothed."

Aegon was married, twice. Aemond was a widowed man. Even the youngest, Daeron, had a betrothal arranged with Rhaena. There was nothing they could do about it.

At this point, footsteps echoed from the side of the hall. Rhaenyra walked gracefully forward, holding Visenya in her arms, surrounded by Baelon, Aemon, and the sisters Baela and Rhaena. The council was taking a long time to finish, so she had come to see what was going on.

Maris looked over at the sound and her eyes fell on Baelon, who resembled Rhaegar. She was delighted. "Your Grace, the royal family is not without a male heir."