At last, the royal family arrived in the city. All of Highgarden had gathered in the streets, trying to catch a glimpse of the legendary Targaryens. Everywhere, there were joyful exclamations and excited voices:
— The great King Aerys!
— The beautiful Queen Rhaella!
— The young dragon Viserys!
But the most attention was drawn to the absence of the brother for whom the tournament was being held:
— Where is Prince Rhaegar?
— What happened to the Perfect Prince?!
— We want to see the True Dragon!
Before I could ponder the situation, a thunderous roar filled the sky. Looking up, I saw a dragon of blood-red color, about the same size as Solarех, emerge from the clouds, breathing fire in front of it and diving back into the thick mist, then emerging easily. Balerion roared again and seemed to circle the city.
"What a show-off," I involuntarily remarked.
" Your Highness, from what I've heard, you seem to have done the same," Ser Barristan replied.
"Indeed," I said with a smirk. "After all, dragon blood runs in the family."
The Tyrells, who had just been admiring the spectacle, hastened to greet their noble guests. Lord Luthor, dressed in his finest attire, stepped forward and bowed deeply.
"Welcome, Your Grace, to our humble Highgarden," he said, beaming with a smile.
"Lord Tyrell," King Aerys nodded in response, though his voice carried its usual coldness and irritation. "Your castle is indeed beautiful."
Olenna stepped forward, trying to improve the atmosphere, and easily met the king's gaze.
"We will do everything possible to ensure His Majesty's comfort. I believe you will find our hospitality worthy of your status."
Queen of Thorns praised little Viserys, exchanging a few words with Rhaella. Soon, I emerged from behind them, and when Mother saw me, she immediately threw herself into my embrace, forgetting all propriety.
"Aeryon! My boy!"
"Mother, it's so good to see you. I… I've missed you," I said, holding her slightly emaciated body.
"I've missed you too, my dear," she whispered, holding back tears. But our cozy family moment was abruptly interrupted by the king's cold voice.
"Aeryon, I see you've grown. I hope you haven't been idle with Steffon, as you may soon be needed in King's Landing."
"Of course, Father, I will do whatever you need," I replied with a slight bow. I then turned my gaze to the tiny Viserys, who was in the nurse's arms. "And here we are, little brother."
After some conversation, the Tyrells began showing my parents to their quarters, as Aerys said they would not wait for Rhaegar. The servants throughout the castle were finishing preparations for the feast, and from what I saw, the festivities in the Stormlands couldn't even compare to what was planned in the Reach.
Highgarden Castle was decorated with the greatest care: numerous tables groaned under the weight of various dishes, the finest wines flowed freely, and singers and dancers prepared to entertain guests throughout the night.
The splendor was impressive. However, such grand celebrations often served as a cover for forging alliances, intrigues, and conspiracies. The thought of my recent conversation with Lord Denys Darklyn flashed through my mind. This was just a small part of a larger game.
As evening approached, the feast itself began. Sitting at the head of the table, I could see the entire hall, filled with laughter, music, and the aroma of exquisite dishes. The atmosphere was festive: lords and ladies, in their finest attire, laughed, drank, and chatted incessantly, while servants continuously refilled goblets with wine. Discussions of the tournament in honor of Rhaegar were on everyone's lips, and everyone felt it was their duty to offer their predictions on who would emerge victorious.
Opinions were divided. Most believed that one of the renowned knights, such as Barristan Selmy or Arthur Dayne, would win. Many also discussed Rhaegar's candidacy, and a few times my name was mentioned, though it was often with an attempt at flattery. Few took a young man like me seriously.
Observing all this splendor, I felt somewhat detached. Despite the surrounding merriment, my thoughts were fully focused on matters that could be of benefit in the future. I cast a fleeting glance at Viserys, who sat beside Mother, not understanding why everyone around was so excited.
Suddenly, the doors of the hall flew open, and all attention was drawn to the figure entering. It was the guest of honor himself, Prince Rhaegar, who arrived at the celebration with a slight delay accompanied by his loyal friends, Ser Arthur Dayne and Jon Connington. Majestic and graceful, he seemed to radiate a light that drew the gaze of everyone present. Many lords and ladies rose from their seats to greet him. But Rhaegar remained, as always, reserved and somewhat aloof, bestowing them with a shadow of a smile.
He moved through the hall towards the head table, trying not to draw even more attention to himself. However, this was almost impossible: the assembled ladies, especially the young ones, couldn't tear their eyes away from the heir apparent. Approaching closer, he nodded to his companions to join the festivities, and greeted us.
"Your Grace, Mother," he said with a bow, then turned his gaze to the hosts of the castle. "Lord Luthor, Lady Olenna, thank you for the warm welcome. This celebration is truly beyond praise."
"Not at all, Prince Rhaegar, it is an honor for us," Lady Olenna responded. After exchanging a few more words with them, he finally approached me.
"You're late, brother."
"Aeryon," Rhaegar said, nodding slightly, "you've grown."
In response, I looked him over and realized he was still a full head taller than me. I had to reply with a smirk:
"Well, it seems, not enough yet."
"You still have time; you're only fourteen."
"Oh, you can be sure of that."
As he sat down next to me, we began speaking in low tones.
"Have you been flying about? It's quite rude to be so long absent from your own feast."
"You know, sometimes etiquette doesn't matter much when you're not sure if your presence is even needed," Rhaegar replied, tilting his head slightly. "But you were here from the beginning, Aeryon. Consider it a chance for you to be the center of attention."
"Haha, you still amuse me. It's interesting how you always viewed excessive attention as a burden, while sincerely craving it."
In response, Rhaegar slowly smirked, but his eyes still showed aloofness.
"And you have always envied that. We are somewhat alike; strange that I didn't notice it earlier."
I began to scrutinize my brother, trying to understand what was on his mind.
"Maybe it's because you didn't pay attention to anyone but Maester Aemon?"
At my words, Rhaegar turned away as if pondering his reply.
"Even now, you fail to understand, brother. That's why I do what I must," he said finally, turning his gaze back to the hall where the performance continued. I wanted to respond with anger and fervor, as I had in childhood, but looking at him now, I could feel nothing but…
"You're pathetic, brother. Being the first dragon rider in over a hundred years, possessing power, talent, and authority, you still shackle yourself with chains that prevent you from truly soaring. That's why you will lose."
Without waiting for his reply, I stood up from the table and went to talk to other people in the hall. Seeing a lady dancing, I approached her with a smile and decided to have some fun. The feast continued in its course; there were even a couple of drunken brawls. By the end, our shining prince could no longer endure the repeated song and took up the harp.
As he began to play, the hall fell silent. The delicate sounds of the harp filled the air, and everyone present was frozen, listening to his music. The song, filled with sadness and passion, seemed to tell a story of unfulfilled dreams and lost hopes. The hearts of the women stopped at each note, and some couldn't hold back their tears.
Watching this spectacle, I began to understand why people adored my brother so much. But I needed more than the empty admiration of the crowd; I needed something more tangible. Scanning the room, I found the person I was looking for.