Game of Thrones: I Am The Heir For A Day

Syrio's proclamation echoed throughout the martial arts arena, commanding the attention of all those gathered.

It was a rare sight indeed, to witness someone openly declare their allegiance to the king's eldest son, drawing curious glances from every corner of the arena.

In response to Syrio's bold declaration, Viserys listened intently, his expression a mixture of contemplation and receptiveness.

"Swordsman, I comprehend your intentions," he began, his voice laden with consideration. "But should you truly aspire to serve my son, your dedication must be unwavering, and your intentions pure."

With a solemn flourish, Syrio hoisted his iron sword aloft, solemnly pledging his allegiance to young Rhaegar Targaryen until the time of his ascension to manhood, vowing to safeguard his honor and authority.

This scene unfolded under the watchful gaze of those eager to discern Princess Rhaenyra's reaction from her elevated vantage point.

Rhaenyra maintained her poised demeanor, her smile unwavering as she occupied her seat with grace.

To the spectators, it appeared as though she genuinely rejoiced for her brother, displaying no outward signs of concern.

Yet unbeknownst to the crowd, Rhaenyra discreetly pinched the root of her thigh beneath her sleeve, a subtle indication of her inner conflict.

Meanwhile, Viserys discreetly observed his daughter's response, silently acknowledging her composure with a nod of approval.

Taking Syrio's iron sword and draping it across his shoulder, Viserys spoke with authority, his voice resonating throughout the arena, "In acknowledgment of your loyalty, I hereby name you royal dance instructor and bestow upon you the title of Ser. May you fulfill your oath with unwavering fidelity."

"Your Majesty's generosity knows no bounds," Syrio replied with profound respect.

With the conclusion of this momentous event, the tournament marking the fifth anniversary of the king and queen's reign drew to a close.

As nobles and knights alike began to make their way out of the arena, they followed the king's lead back to the Red Keep, where a sumptuous banquet awaited them.

Among the departing throng, Rhaenyra moved with poise, her countenance composed yet betraying a hint of inner conflict.

Daemon trailed behind her, observing his niece closely, a flicker of satisfaction dancing in his eyes at the subtle signs of her discomfort.

...

As the soft melodies of music and the gentle rhythm of dancing filled the halls of the Red Keep, signaling the onset of night, Rhaenyra found herself disinterested in the festivities, opting instead for an early retirement. Her steps led her down familiar corridors until she stood before her brother's door.

Pausing, she realized the familiar routine of her nightly pilgrimage to check on Rhaegar since his injury. The weight of her father's recent proposal lingered heavily on her mind, the idea of forging an alliance with her brother far more appealing than a marriage to a stranger.

Her hand hesitated over the door, but the tinkling laughter of a young girl from within spurred her forward. Without conscious thought, Rhaenyra pushed the door open.

Stepping into the room, she found her brother and Helaena sprawled on the bed with a chessboard between them.

"Rhaenyra, you've come?" Rhaegar greeted warmly, inviting her to join them in their game.

Closing the door behind her, Rhaenyra crossed the room to sit beside Helaena, gently stroking her sister's head. "Since when have you two become so close?" she wondered aloud.

Helaena responded with a silent but affectionate smile, her innocent eyes meeting Rhaenyra's gaze.

Returning the smile, Rhaenyra felt a sense of warmth towards her sister, finding solace in her simplicity compared to her brother's complexities.

Rhaegar, noticing her presence, explained, "Helaena seeks refuge from Aegon's bullying, so I've allowed her to join me and play with her toys whenever she likes." He gestured towards a pile of toys nearby, indicating their purpose.

Surprised by the revelation, Rhaenyra nodded, having previously mistaken the toys as Rhaegar's own possessions.

As the evening unfolded, Rhaenyra chose not to dwell on her father's offer, instead focusing on guiding Helaena through their chess game.

Turning to her brother, she inquired about his well-being. Rhaegar's response was positive, his mood buoyant as he reassured her about his healing wound.

"The Grand Maester mentioned something intriguing," Rhaegar continued, excitement creeping into his tone. "He believes I possess a unique physique, one that could potentially make me a formidable warrior in the future."

Rhaenyra listened intently, her thoughts drifting briefly to the events of the day.

Silently pondering her father's encounter with Syrio, she opted not to broach the subject with her brother, allowing him the freedom to form his own opinions about the enigmatic swordsman.

Their conversation then shifted to the recent incident at the Dragon's Pit.

Rhaegar: "Has there been any progress regarding the Dragon's Pit?"

Rhaenyra: "Yes, Maester Bass, the one who secretly switched the shackles, was apprehended. Father sentenced him to either have his hands severed or don the black robes and head to the Wall."

Rhaegar: "There are indeed rotten apples among the maesters from Oldtown. Such individuals deserve a public execution; such punishment is far too lenient."

"I proposed harsher punishment to father, but he dismissed it," Rhaenyra said with a helpless shrug.

Rhaegar gave her a sympathetic look and said no more.

He understood that his sister's life was not without its difficulties, despite her noble status as the heir. Her suggestions often fell on deaf ears.

Rhaegar's thoughts then turned to Dreamfyre, the light blue dragon, and he asked earnestly, "How is Dreamfyre faring? Have the chains been removed?"

"Don't worry, father ordered the removal of all chains within the Dragon's Pit, creating separate areas to allow the dragons more freedom of movement," Rhaenyra assured him.

She shared his sentiment, not wanting any of the dragons to suffer in captivity. Creating separate spaces for them seemed like the right decision.

Rhaegar breathed a sigh of relief, "Dreamfyre has endured captivity for decades. I sincerely hope it finds a new rider soon and takes to the skies once more."

After witnessing his eldest son's recent recklessness, Viserys made the decision to retreat with his family to Dragonstone Island for a period of respite. The Small Council reached a consensus that it was time to select newborn dragons for Rhaegar and Aegon to bond with.

On Dragonstone Island, two suitable young dragons awaited, perfectly suited for each of the brothers to form a connection with.

With this plan set in motion, Rhaegar relinquished the idea of taming Dreamfyre and eagerly anticipated the adventures that awaited them on Dragonstone.

Observing her sentimental brother, Rhaenyra smiled knowingly, her tone cool as she remarked, "Should father decide to arrange a marriage for you, what will you do?"

Rhaegar's hand, paused mid-play on the chessboard, furrowed his brow in contemplation. "If it becomes necessary, I am prepared to shoulder my fair share of responsibility."

Though still young, much of his understanding came from the pages of books. Throughout the annals of Targaryen history, both men and women had been bound by marriage, save for a few rare exceptions.

Aegon the Conqueror himself had taken two wives: Visenya out of duty, and Rhaenys out of desire.

Subsequent monarchs had either wed daughters of influential houses or kept to the family line through intermarriage.

Even his own father, Viserys, and uncle Daemon were wed to noblewomen from the Vale to ensure loyalty among supporters of the crown.

Given this tradition, Rhaegar saw little chance of evading the fate of marriage. His only hope was to wed a woman of pleasing appearance and gentle demeanor within the confines of propriety; to aspire for more would be folly.

Hearing her brother's response, Rhaenyra lowered her gaze, lapsing into silence.

She understood all too well that Rhaegar spoke truth.

Perhaps, she mused, she had been too whimsical, and now must bear the weight of responsibility upon her own shoulders.

After a prolonged moment, Rhaenyra smiled once more. After exchanging a few more words with Rhaegar, she bid him farewell and departed.

Alone in the room, Rhaegar stared at the closed door, rendered speechless by his sister's visit.

He surmised the reason for Rhaenyra's nocturnal visit—it was likely prompted by their father's insistence on her betrothal, seeking solace in his company.

But Rhaegar could not offer Rhaenyra the reassurance she sought.

To speak hollow words simply to placate her desires would lead to consequences beyond measure.

Wearing a crown was not about asserting dominance; it was about shining brightly under its weight for all to see.