Larys's coughing caught the attention of his father and brother.
He walked laboriously to his elder brother's side, casting a glance at his father before saying humbly, "Brother, it is time for you to marry and carry on the family name."
"I know, Larys," Harwin muttered, clearly in a foul mood.
Larys's eyes glinted with shrewdness. "I just saw the prince and princess walking hand in hand into the tent. They truly are a match made in heaven."
Harwin stiffened, eyeing his brother warily.
"Don't look at me like that; everyone is saying it," Larys added with an ambiguous smile.
"Shut up, Larys!" Lyonel snapped. "These fantasies of yours are dangerous and need to stop."
Larys blushed and smiled apologetically. "Yes, father."
Lyonel's stern expression softened slightly as he lowered his voice. "Where did that woman go?"
"Who?" Larys feigned ignorance.
Lyonel's face darkened, his riding crop pointing at Larys. "Don't play dumb. Where is Alys Rivers hiding?"
"Father, if Alys Rivers is sneaking around, how would I know?" Larys hunched over, trying to appear as humble as possible. "If I knew where she was, I would have told you immediately."
Lyonel's suspicion remained. "You truly don't know?"
"A thousand times, no," Larys replied sincerely.
Lyonel's eyes flickered. He lashed his son's shoulder with the riding crop and said, "Whether you know or not, remember that she is a danger. Do you understand?"
When the Strong House moved to Harrenhal, Alys Rivers had suddenly disappeared. Initially, it was thought she had been left behind or separated during the journey. Lyonel, having developed a fondness for her, had sent people to search for her. Rumors linked her to the Red Keep, where even Prince Rhaegar had conducted a thorough but fruitless search.
Lyonel suspected his second son had a close relationship with Alys and was testing him.
Larys took half a step back and lowered his head. "You can rest assured, father."
"Hmph! You brothers take care of yourselves," Lyonel snorted, tossing the riding crop into Harwin's arms before storming off.
Both sons were a constant source of concern.
As soon as their father left, Harwin's frown deepened and he followed him out of the stable.
Larys stayed where he was, lifting his head slightly. His gray-brown eyes followed his father and brother, a calculating look on his face.
...
Inside the main tent, Viserys was all smiles, seated at the head of the table and exchanging pleasantries with the various lords and knights.
He loved lively gatherings, and the Kingswood hunt was one of his favorite events.
"Your Grace, you must visit Casterly Rock someday. The honeyed wine there is truly mesmerizing," Jason said, holding a glass of red wine and boasting.
Viserys saw through his ploy and replied with a smirk, "Lord Jason, if you really wanted me to taste it, you should have brought a shipload with you."
Jason was momentarily speechless and shrugged it off. "I was in a hurry to get here. Next time, for sure."
"Very well, I look forward to it," Viserys said graciously.
The primary invitees for the Kingswood hunt were the nobles of the king's domain and the Stormlands, but Viserys, seeking even more excitement, had extended invitations to lords from neighboring regions as well, including the Lannisters of the Westerlands, the Hightowers of Oldtown, and the Redwynes of the Arbor.
"Your Grace," Otto approached with a solemn face.
Viserys was in the middle of raising a glass with someone and couldn't immediately attend to the Master of Civil Affairs. After finishing his drink, he noticed Daemon entering the tent with his family, accompanied by a woman with dark hair streaked with silver.
"Viserys!" Rhaenys greeted cheerfully, stepping forward with her cousin and daughter.
Viserys put down his glass and said in surprise, "Cousin, you're all here."
"Brother," Daemon greeted with a nod, his expression bland.
"Find a seat and join me for a drink later," Viserys said happily. Noticing the absence of a familiar face, he asked, "Lord Corlys didn't come?"
Rhaenys sighed, "Corlys always has a ton of business to attend to."
"Haha, compared to him, it looks like I'm the king who doesn't do any work," Viserys teased, laughing loudly.
A few years ago, Corlys and House Velaryon had been a source of tension for him, constantly stirring up trouble. But now, he was at ease, joking casually.
Sensing her cousin's warmth, Rhaenys shook her head with a smile. "You never change, do you?"
Despite her words, a touch of sadness crossed her eyes. Laena, sensing her mother's feelings, took her hand and offered a comforting glance, her other hand resting on her slightly bulging belly.
...
Rhaegar parted ways with Erryk and soon encountered another familiar face—Tyland Lannister.
Tyland, far more handsome than his brother Jason, had neatly combed blonde hair and a meticulously trimmed beard, making him a striking figure.
"Prince, we meet again," Tyland greeted with enthusiasm, stepping forward with a beaming smile.
Three years ago, after leading a failed sneak attack on Gray Gallows Island, Tyland had been stripped of his position as Master of Ships and nearly faced severe consequences. Rhaegar had provided him a lifeline by assigning him to oversee the construction of the Prince's Palace on the Dornish borderlands, making him one of Rhaegar's staff.
As Tyland approached, Rhaegar smiled warmly. "I haven't seen you in half a year. How have you been?"
"All is well," Tyland replied, nodding eagerly.
After the initial pleasantries, Rhaegar got to the point. "There have been issues with the supplies for the Prince's Palace. Do you know what's causing the problem?"
Tyland's expression shifted slightly, and he whispered, "I've personally visited the noble territories involved. It seems the orders came from Lord Borros."
"Very well Borros, I will remember this," Rhaegar sneered.
After discussing the Prince's Palace further, their conversation drifted to other matters. Tyland hesitated before speaking worriedly, "Prince, thousands of Dornish refugees are gathering at Vulture's Roost near the Boneway. It seems suspicious."
"Has there been any response from Sunspear?" Rhaegar frowned.
"No. Prince Qoren is preoccupied with establishing diplomatic relations with Braavos," Tyland said regretfully.
After a moment of thought, Rhaegar said, "The Boneway is treacherous terrain, difficult to traverse. Ensure that House Dondarrion of Blackhaven increases their patrols and garrisons."
A few thousand refugees didn't concern him much. The Boneway was a narrow, hazardous path where a single misstep could lead to a fatal fall. The Dondarrion House guarded the exit, and even a large army would struggle to break through their defenses.
Before they could continue, Rhaenyra called out to Rhaegar. He apologized, "I need to attend to something."
"Of course, Prince. Make yourself at home," Tyland said with a smile.
The construction of the Prince's Palace was more than halfway completed, and maintaining a good relationship with the Heir was crucial for Tyland's return to prominence.
...
The tent was crowded as Rhaegar made his way through, exchanging greetings with the nobles. He approached the main seat where Rhaenys stood, elegantly dressed.
"Aunt," he greeted with a smile.
"Rhaegar," Rhaenys responded warmly, stepping forward to hug her nephew.
Rhaegar bent slightly to accommodate the embrace and casually asked, "Lord Corlys didn't come?"
"You're just like your father—always more interested in Corlys than me," Rhaenys sighed, half in jest. "He decided to stay on Driftmark and didn't want to participate in the hunt."
Rhaegar nodded and moved on to greet Daemon and Laena.
At that moment, Otto approached Viserys, who was sitting and enjoying the gathering. "Your Grace, the messenger reported that Lord Borros is on his way and will arrive shortly."
Viserys' smile vanished. "I've arrived, and he's even later than me?"
"The messenger said the carriage broke down," Otto explained.
Viserys dismissed the excuse with a wave. "What do you think?"
"The truth is unknown, but Lord Borros was not on time," Otto replied nonchalantly.
Viserys slammed his wine goblet onto the table, his face darkening. "His arrogance is astounding. He dares to arrive later than the king!"
The nearby nobles overheard the conversation. Jason's eyes gleamed as he interjected, "Your Grace, Borros Baratheon has disrespected the royal family and should be punished."
Viserys eyed him skeptically. "Oh? And what do you suggest, Lord Jason?"
"Borros is unfit to be the Lord of Storm's End. Strip him of his title and replace him with a descendant of Lord Bormond's cousin," Jason proposed eagerly. "This will serve as a warning and secure the loyalty of the new lord."
A tense silence followed Jason's suggestion. Otto observed quietly, his expression unreadable.
Viserys, now intrigued, asked, "Lord Jason, what crime should I punish Lord Borros for?"
Otto smirked slightly, adding, "Perhaps for having a broken wheel and being late to the camp."
"No! That's not a reason," Jason protested. "Lord Borros has obstructed the supply of materials for the Prince's Palace, intentionally causing difficulties for the royal family."
Viserys' expression hardened. "Do you have any evidence to support this claim?"
"Uh..." Jason faltered, realizing his error. Under the king's intense gaze, he stammered, "Not exactly, but it's common knowledge..."
"Common knowledge?" Viserys interrupted, his voice dripping with disdain. "And who is this 'everyone'?"
He loathed Jason's sycophantic behavior and his baseless accusations. If he intended to punish Borros severely, he would need concrete evidence, not hearsay.
(Word count: 1,555)