Staring at the lingering traces of blood, Rhaegar fell into deep thought.
Over the years, many maesters and healers had treated his father, yet none had been effective.
The Ouroboros was formed from runes and possessed extraordinary properties.
Even so, it was still unable to completely heal the wound.
How strange!
"Rhaegar, I feel like the pain has eased a lot."
As the Ouroboros disappeared, Viserys let out a relieved sigh and turned around with a smile.
By the Seven!
No one could understand just how good he felt at that moment.
The pain that had tormented him for years was now almost entirely gone—he felt at least a decade younger.
"Is that so? That's good to hear!"
Rhaegar forced a smile, genuinely happy for his father.
However, Viserys, ever perceptive, noticed that his eldest son was hiding something. He reached behind to touch his wound.
Gone was the decayed flesh and the sticky pus.
When he pulled his hand back, he saw faint traces of fresh blood on his fingertips.
It was the kind of fresh blood that seeps from a small cut.
Viserys's expression shifted slightly, a glint of doubt flashing in his eyes.
He remembered Rhaegar saying the wound would fully heal.
But judging by the situation, something had gone wrong.
As Viserys processed this realization, he quickly masked his concern with a smile. "The wound is treated, and the pain has lessened. I'm more than satisfied."
He didn't want his son to worry too much.
And he truly meant what he said.
Rhaegar lowered his head and spoke softly, "I'm sorry, Father. What was supposed to be a one-time treatment has turned into ongoing care."
He didn't understand why the wound hadn't completely healed.
Still, alleviating his father's pain was better than letting the wound continue to fester.
"That's still something, isn't it?"
Viserys's deep voice carried reassurance as he firmly patted Rhaegar's shoulder, his eyes filled with warmth.
Rhaegar forced a small smile, but inwardly, he felt disappointed.
He had searched far and wide for a way to heal his father.
He had even scoured the Crab Claw Peninsula in search of the elusive Marsh Marigold.
But the plant was too rare—ordinary swamps simply couldn't sustain it.
The largest swamp, the Despairing Marsh, was too dangerous. The Devourers refused to enter.
He had thought the Ouroboros would be the cure, yet something inexplicable had happened instead.
Viserys thought for a moment before offering a wry smile. "They say the Iron Throne chooses its ruler. It seems I was never the right choice, and that's why it cursed me."
Since the days of Aegon the Conqueror, none of the past kings—Aenys, Maegor, or Jaehaerys—had suffered such a fate.
Reflecting on his own experiences, Viserys could only conclude that he was unworthy of the throne.
"No! You are a good king. You've done nothing wrong!"
Rhaegar immediately refuted the idea, unwilling to accept that his father deserved such a punishment.
Compared to the weak Aenys and the cruel Maegor, his father had been a much better ruler.
He was beloved by the people, had maintained peace in the realm, and ensured that his subjects had enough to eat…
In the long history of Westeros, such a king was rare indeed.
"The gods don't reward people with wealth and power simply for being good. They only play tricks on mortals."
Now feeling truly at ease, Viserys reassured him, "Don't worry too much about your father. I'm not that fragile."
If he had endured this pain for more than a decade, he could certainly handle things now that his condition had greatly improved.
"Rhaegar, tell me about your time in the Vale. And also, where did you get this remarkable ability?"
Viserys wrapped an arm around his son's shoulder, his tone warm as he inquired.
The moment Rhaegar had displayed his rune magic, Viserys had doubted Rhaenys's words that everything had gone smoothly.
If everything had been "smooth," then it meant everything had been normal.
And suddenly acquiring magical abilities was far from normal.
"Father…"
Moved by his father's optimism, Rhaegar slowly began recounting his experiences in the Vale.
He left out certain details, such as the encounter with the Explorers and the ambush, but the story was still quite eventful.
Viserys listened attentively, his face displaying a calm smile. However, his grip on Rhaegar's shoulder gradually tightened.
Even though Rhaegar had glossed over some details, as a father, Viserys could still detect the underlying danger in his words.
—
Three days later.
The Dragonpit.
"Hiss… screech…"
A resounding dragon roar echoed as a massive, pale blue dragon spewed dragonfire, charring a goat half to a crisp.
"Dreamfyre, eat the goat!"
A young girl's crisp and clear voice rang out as she issued a command to the dragon.
Dreamfyre stretched its long neck, its talons pressing into the ground as it spread its massive wings.
Under the protection of the dragonkeepers, Helena watched with wide, expectant eyes.
After several days, Dreamfyre had gone from rejecting her approach to at least listening to her words.
And today, it had even followed her command to roast the goat. Helena's small head was filled with an eager desire to succeed in taming the dragon.
"Hiss—screech..."
Dreamfyre let out a sharp cry, flapped its wings, and climbed up the wall of the dragon pit, flicking its tail in a haughty manner.
It had only cooked the goat because it was hungry—not because it was obeying some tiny insect's orders.
Even if it didn't particularly dislike this little insect.
Seeing Dreamfyre's indifferent response, Helena's round, bright eyes clouded with disappointment as she tugged at the hem of her white dress.
"Sister, Tessarion listened to me!"
A soft, childlike voice called out from the other side.
Helena turned her head and saw a young boy with short, silver-gold hair and a chubby, youthful face.
The little boy, around four or five years old, was utterly adorable, his bright purple eyes gleaming with excitement.
"Daeron, you did it?"
Helena's mouth opened in surprise as she walked toward her younger brother.
Standing beside Daeron was Aemond, who looked utterly dejected.
Dressed in green, Aemond stood behind Daeron, his eyes filled with envy and frustration.
There were only two unclaimed dragons in the pit.
Since Helena was the eldest, her two younger brothers had let her try to tame Dreamfyre alone.
Aemond and Daeron, on the other hand, had both been attempting to bond with Tessarion.
Surprisingly, Tessarion seemed particularly fond of Daeron.
The proud blue dragon not only refrained from attacking him but was even willing to obey his command to breathe fire.
**On the open-air platform of the dragon pit…**
Rhaenyra observed the scene below with intrigue. "Tessarion has accepted Daeron. It looks like he'll be fully tamed soon."
"Indeed, our little brother is a true prodigy."
From behind, Rhaegar wrapped his arms around Rhaenyra, pressing close to her, their cheeks touching.
Rhaenyra tilted her head slightly and smiled. "Daeron is about to break your record of taming a dragon at six years old."
"That's hardly a record worth mentioning."
Rhaegar replied calmly, "But Daeron and Tessarion are a perfect match. He is a true Targaryen."
Ever since his own bloodline had awakened, he had become deeply concerned with the purity of their lineage.
Take him and Rhaenyra as an example—
They had tamed their dragons at the ages of six and seven, respectively.
That was already far superior to most family members, who usually succeeded around fifteen.
Beyond sheer luck, their pure bloodline likely played a significant role.
After chatting for a while, Rhaenyra gently broke free from his embrace and sighed. "Lord Laenor is returning to King's Landing today. I need to help Alicent prepare for the banquet."
"You work hard," Rhaegar praised.
"If you really cared, you'd help me with it."
Rhaenyra's voice was soft as she cupped Rhaegar's face, kissing his forehead again and again.
Rhaegar, caught off guard by the affection, teased, "Even if you try to bribe me, I'm not helping with the banquet preparations."
Not a chance—he had other matters to attend to.
"Hmph, I wouldn't dare hope for that."
Rhaenyra let out a small huff before turning and heading toward the staircase.
"Princess!"
At the corner of the stairwell, she happened to run into Menas and Ser Harwin, who were on their way up. They greeted her respectfully.
Rhaenyra gave them a slight nod before brushing past them.
*(End of Chapter)*