**Chapter 119: The Council Meeting**
Rhaegar didn't even glance at the scene; he was long used to it.
Syrio had made a mistake, but instead of fleeing, he chose to atone for it.
Rhaegar respected his swordsmanship teacher's decision.
He quickly reached the stairway corner, where Rhaenyra also dashed downstairs, and the siblings embraced tightly.
At 21 years old, Rhaenyra was now a grown woman. She wore a fitted black dress, her silver hair cascading down her back, her face strikingly beautiful.
Rhaegar wrapped his arm around her waist, examining her closely before asking, "Did everything go smoothly on your trip?"
Rhaegar was no longer the boy he used to be, now standing tall and confident.
Rhaenyra, half a head shorter than Rhaegar, leaned naturally into his arms and tilted her chin upward. "Syrax laid three dragon eggs—three whole eggs!"
As she spoke, she raised three fingers and wiggled them proudly.
"Syrax certainly lives up to its name. The family's future rests on such prolific dragons."
Rhaegar played along with the praise.
Suddenly, Rhaenyra's smile faded slightly, and she asked, "Are the dreams still happening?"
She gazed at her brother's pale complexion and dark circles under his eyes, gently caressing his face with a touch of concern.
"It's fine—one dream every few days. I've gotten used to it."
Rhaegar shook his head, signaling it wasn't a big deal.
Over the years, his gift as a dreamwalker had grown stronger.
His dreams were filled with countless scenes—dragons battling, flames, wars…
There were even fragmented images of another world. While some depicted historical events and the rise and fall of dynasties, most were random and meaningless.
Rhaenyra's eyes were full of sympathy as she wrapped her arms around his neck and whispered in his ear, "It's been a month. Did you miss me?"
"Of course, every moment," Rhaegar replied with a faint smile on his pale face.
"Good boy. Here's a reward."
Rhaenyra cupped his cheeks and placed a gentle kiss on his face.
Rhaegar coughed lightly, freed himself from her embrace, and changed the subject. "I'll go take a bath first. Have the kitchen prepare a welcome feast for you."
"No problem," Rhaenyra replied with a cheerful smile.
---
**Rhaenyra's Bedroom**
A lavish spread of dishes covered the round table—fried foods, stir-fries, desserts, and more.
Rhaenyra ate heartily, showing no concern for appearances.
Rhaegar, having eaten only a little, sat nearby, watching her.
The dishes were inspired by common folk recipes, not only delicious but also easy to prepare.
Rhaegar had specifically assembled a private kitchen staffed with trusted individuals to prepare his meals.
Officially, it was for developing novel culinary creations, but in truth, it was a precaution against poisoning—a practical twofold benefit.
**Knock, knock.**
Midway through the meal, a knock came at the door, followed by the voice of Erich.
"Prince Rhaegar, the king has convened a council meeting and requests your presence."
Rhaegar's eyes flickered. "Understood, I'll be there shortly."
"Father summoned you; you'd better hurry," Rhaenyra said, her cheeks puffed out as she swallowed a bite of cake.
"No rush. I'll wait until you finish, and we'll go together."
Rhaegar leaned back in his chair, unfazed.
"Why should I go? I'm not a member of the council," Rhaenyra hesitated.
As the Princess of Dragonstone, she was technically qualified to attend council meetings.
But as the former heir, her presence was somewhat awkward.
"It's fine—there's something interesting happening today."
Remembering the topics discussed in the last council meeting, Rhaegar smiled knowingly.
---
**Half an Hour Later**
Rhaegar and Rhaenyra arrived at the council hall together.
Standing before the imposing doors, Rhaegar said nostalgically, "Rhaenyra, do you remember the first time I came here?"
"You were just a little boy back then, clinging to me and calling me 'Sister,'" Rhaenyra said, folding her hands in front of her abdomen. The memory brought a smile to her face.
"Exactly. Last time, you brought me in. This time, it's my turn."
Rhaegar placed his hands on the grand doors and pushed them open.
**Creak—**
The doors swung wide, revealing the scene inside.
At the round council table sat Viserys in the center, with the other members of the council seated on either side.
Rhaegar strode through the doorway, scanning the room before spreading his arms. "My lords, forgive me for being late."
Seeing his eldest son arrive, Viserys rose slowly, feigning annoyance. "Rhaegar, tardiness is not a good habit."
**"Of course, but I have my reasons."**
Rhaegar stepped aside, revealing Rhaenyra behind him.
"Rhaenyra, are you joining the Small Council meeting as well?"
Seeing his daughter's figure, Viserys smiled with curiosity.
He was aware that his daughter had returned to King's Landing from Dragonstone the day before but hadn't come to see him.
He wasn't upset about it.
Ever since the matter of the succession change, Rhaenyra had deliberately distanced herself from him.
But he believed it was worth it.
Rhaegar had grown into a better heir, bringing him light and hope every day, making his recent years much more comforting.
"Mm-hmm, I wasn't planning on coming."
Rhaenyra shrugged and walked in calmly.
She had thoroughly explored this place when she was young, so it didn't feel unfamiliar.
"Father, what grand matters are you discussing today?"
Rhaegar appeared even more at ease, walking in with large, confident strides as his gaze swept over the Small Council members.
The Hand of the King, Lyonel Strong; Master of Ships, Tyland Lannister; Grand Maester Mellos; Master of Coin, Lyman Beesbury; Master of Laws, Jasper Wylde...
And beside Viserys stood the newly appointed Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, Criston Cole.
In 112 AC, the second year after Rhaegar was named heir, the previous Lord Commander, Ser Harrold Westerling, had passed away. Criston Cole, the most skilled swordsman in the Kingsguard, succeeded him as Lord Commander.
With his new responsibilities, Cole had been reassigned from Rhaenyra's side to protect the King.
"Your Grace..."
As Rhaegar approached the council table, the assembled lords rose in respect.
"Sit, no need for formalities," Rhaegar said with a slight nod.
Lowering his gaze, Rhaegar noticed only one empty chair at the table. Turning to Cole, he said, "Ser, could you please bring another chair?"
Cole glanced at the King, hesitating slightly.
"Your Grace, the Princess is not a member of the Small Council and should not be present," said Jasper Wylde, frowning in hesitation.
"Well, I'm not a member of the Small Council either. Should I leave as well?"
Rhaegar pulled out the chair before him and tilted his head toward Wylde.
Wylde's face froze. "Your Grace, you are the heir to the throne. Your participation in state affairs is proper and lawful."
"Good. Rhaenyra was once the heir and is still the Princess of Dragonstone. She has every right to attend the Small Council."
Rhaegar had no regard for the rules.
He was the Crown Prince, and his words were as good as law.
"Sit down."
Grasping Rhaenyra's hand, he guided her into the empty chair before him. Then, turning back to Cole, he said in a calm but firm tone, "Ser, do I need to repeat myself?"
Cole remained silent, looking to the King for guidance.
Viserys sighed helplessly. "Go ahead, bring a chair for this troublesome boy."
As Princess of Dragonstone, Rhaenyra held the most significant ancestral stronghold of House Targaryen.
Her attendance at the Small Council could be seen as an effort to mend her strained relationship with her father.
It was both a personal and political gain.
Once the chair was brought over, Rhaegar sat next to Rhaenyra and reached toward the round tray in the center of the council table.
On the tray was a single, jet-black stone orb, streaked with green dragon-like patterns.
---
**Author's Notes:**
Rhaegar is growing into a fine young man, and Rhaenyra has become more mature.
And in the show, adult Rhaenyra is absolutely stunning!
(End of Chapter)