Chapter 227: Making You a Queen  

Closing the panel, Rega lifted a smiling face. 

Becoming even stronger—an undeniably great thing. 

"Hiss—screech…" 

A gray blur let out a sharp cry as its pale gray body loomed over Rega's head, its vertical pupils flashing with curiosity. 

It was naturally shy and timid, usually staying along the eastern coast of Dragonstone Island. 

Its favorite pastime was darting through the mist, hidden from sight. 

"You timid dragon, this was all thanks to your help." 

Rega pressed both hands against the ground and looked up with a grin at the gray blur. 

This creature had a good heart. 

The moment he set foot on the eastern coast, it had caught his scent and rushed over. 

During the raid on the Kingdom of Women, the gray blur played a crucial role. 

The Devourer alone didn't have enough firepower. 

Hearing his words, the gray dragon flicked its tail, its amber vertical pupils locking onto Rega with a sense of closeness. 

Rega raised a hand high. 

The intelligent creature lowered its head, pressing its snout against his palm. 

"Come with me, Gray Shadow." 

Rega stroked its pale gray scales, his voice gentle as he extended the invitation. 

The dragon had always been a lone wanderer, never leaving Dragonstone Island. 

Why not follow him and become a new force of intimidation? 

"Hiss—screech…" 

Gray Shadow tilted its head, seemingly puzzled. 

As Rega continued to stroke it, the dragon gradually felt at ease, its body trembling slightly before slowly crouching down. 

Man and dragon locked eyes. 

Rega maintained his smile, radiating nothing but kindness toward Gray Shadow. 

The dragon exhaled hot air from its nostrils, its vertical pupils reflecting Rega's image—first his silver-gold hair, then his striking features… 

Time ticked by. 

The upper half of Rega's reflection was imprinted in Gray Shadow's eyes. 

Yet, the lower half remained incomplete, as if hesitating. 

Suddenly— 

The slumbering Devourer snapped open its vertical pupils, its gaze cruel as it fixated on Gray Shadow, then let out a deafening roar: 

"Hiss—screech!!" 

A violent blast of heat surged outward, nearly sending Rega tumbling from the mountain peak. 

"Devourer!" 

Rega called out, hastily trying to calm the enraged dragon. 

Gray Shadow flinched in shock, momentarily forgetting to flap its wings. 

It hopped backward on its hind legs and cowered behind Rega, tucking its head beneath its wings like a frightened ostrich. 

Devourer's emerald pupils burned with fury as it spread its massive wings, slowly advancing toward Gray Shadow, baring its menacing fangs. 

"Buddy, take it easy." 

Rega quickly got to his feet, stepping between them and wrapping his arms around Devourer's snout. 

He couldn't let Devourer attack Gray Shadow. 

The difference in strength was too vast—things could turn deadly in an instant. 

"Snort!" 

Devourer huffed through its nostrils, its pupils shifting toward the one blocking its way—Rega. 

Its foolish rider… daring to bond with another dragon behind its back. 

Rega: … 

They were connected in mind, and he could clearly sense Devourer's thoughts. 

As its snout pushed him back slightly, Rega patted its dark scales and spoke earnestly, "Gray Shadow is our ally, remember?" 

Just yesterday, the three of them had burned three independent trade cities to the ground. 

They were in perfect sync. 

Devourer glanced at Rega, then at the trembling Gray Shadow. 

The fury in its pupils dimmed slightly. 

Standing atop the mountain peak, it spread its massive black wings, blotting out the sky, then stretched its thick neck and let out a thunderous roar. 

Gray Shadow shuddered and obediently prostrated itself on the ground. 

It was submitting to Devourer. 

Seeing this, Rega was overjoyed—he knew Devourer's hostility had faded. 

With everything in place, he climbed onto Devourer's saddle, securing Truth on his back. 

Lifting his gaze to the sky— 

Blue skies, drifting clouds. 

A surge of excitement swelled in his chest. 

With boundless enthusiasm, he shouted, "Boys, our goal is the sky!" 

"Hiss—screech!!" 

"Hiss—screech!" 

With a powerful flap of its wings, Devourer's massive body soared into the sky, climbing rapidly. 

Gray Shadow let out a hesitant cry, flapping its wings to follow, though it trailed at a distance. 

Man and dragon soared above Dragonstone Island, their laughter and roars echoing through the skies. 

… 

Three days later.

**Dragonstone, Inside the Castle** 

On the open-air balcony. 

Rhaenyra stood in a flowing red gauze dress, her silver hair braided and coiled at the back of her head. Her gaze was cold as she looked into the distance. 

Above the eastern coast, a black dragon and a gray dragon wove through the misty clouds, playfully chasing each other. 

**Tap, tap...** 

Footsteps approached. 

Rhaegar walked over cautiously, carefully observing Rhaenyra's expression. 

She acted as if she hadn't heard him, her delicate hands gripping the railing so tightly that her knuckles turned slightly white. 

**Three days ago.** 

Rhaegar had returned to Dragonstone and came to see her immediately. 

They had embraced tightly, pouring out their emotions. 

And then... 

Rhaegar spoke of that scheming wench, Jeyne. 

**"Bastard!"** 

At the mere thought of Jeyne, Rhaenyra's face turned icy, and she wished the railing in her hands were Jeyne's neck. 

She had only three close friends. 

Alicent had married her father, Viserys. 

Laena had married her uncle, Daemon. 

And Jeyne—**that wench**—had dared to seduce her younger brother, Rhaegar. 

**"Rhaenyra, you've been fasting for a day now."** 

Rhaegar took her hand, his voice filled with concern. 

**"Get lost!"** 

Rhaenyra yanked her hand away, her tone ice-cold. **"I don't need you to care."** 

Rhaegar lowered his head, unable to argue. 

If he couldn't keep it in his pants, he deserved the consequences. 

**"Rhaenyra, I can't meet your demand, but I've thought of another solution. I'd like to discuss it with you."** 

He stepped closer to the railing, looking at her profile. 

**"What is there to discuss?"** 

Rhaenyra turned her head slightly, refusing to even look at him. Her anger barely contained, she spat, **"Send Jeyne back to the Vale. Otherwise, don't come to see me."** 

She refused to accept any excuse from Rhaegar. 

All she wanted was for that wench, Jeyne, to **leave King's Landing forever and never appear before her again.** 

Rhaegar grabbed her hand again, gripping it tightly. His voice was low. **"Rhaenyra, you've been with me since I was young. My heart belongs only to you."** 

Hearing this, Rhaenyra's suppressed grievance burst forth. 

She swiftly turned, raising her hand to slap him. 

But Rhaegar neither dodged nor flinched, looking at her calmly. 

Under his steady gaze, her heart trembled. Halfway through, her hand froze in the air. 

Rhaegar had made a mistake, but he was still young. 

The one truly at fault was that shameless **wench, Jeyne.** 

She had been too lax in disciplining Rhaegar. 

**"Rhaegar, you're such a bastard!"** 

Rhaenyra huffed angrily and turned away from him again. 

Rhaegar had always been devoted to her. 

Even on the eve of the Three Daughters' invasion, he had been scheming for her future, his heart entirely on her. 

**How could she bear to slap Rhaegar over some wench?** 

**"Rhaenyra, don't be angry with me. You and I should not be divided."** 

His voice carried an apology as he gently squeezed her hand. 

Rhaenyra hardened her heart and refused to look at him, snapping, **"What are you trying to say? That you want to enjoy the best of both worlds?"** 

This was what worried her the most. 

It wasn't about jealousy. 

Westeros had upheld monogamy since ancient times. 

Aside from Aegon the Conqueror, no one had dared to defy this rule. 

The Targaryen family's customs already defied societal norms, earning them the scorn of the people. 

During the reign of Aenys I, half the nobility of the continent rebelled under the banner of the Faith of the Seven. 

Aenys I lived in fear until his death. 

His brother, Maegor I, usurped the throne, murdered his nephew, and took his niece as his wife, ruling with blood and cruelty. 

Not until their great-grandfather, Jaehaerys I, did the Targaryens reconcile with the Faith. 

The agreement was as follows: 

The Targaryens would become loyal defenders of the Faith of the Seven, be crowned by the High Septon, and follow monogamy. 

In return, the Faith would fully support Targaryen rule and abolish the armed orders of the "Warrior's Sons" and the "Poor Fellows." 

At the same time, they would **turn a blind eye** to certain Targaryen traditions. 

Rhaenyra feared that Rhaegar would be swayed by temptation and, in a moment of recklessness, break this agreement. 

Such an act would create a crisis **far worse** than the invasion of the Three Daughters or Dorne. 

Fortunately, Rhaegar wasn't a fool. 

He shook his head and said sincerely, **"I am not yet strong enough to challenge the Faith of the Seven head-on."** 

Yes, **he simply believed he lacked the power to defy it—**not that it was impossible. 

If House Targaryen ever restored Valyria's former glory and commanded a thousand dragons, 

**forget the Faith of the Seven—they could conquer the entire world.** 

**"Then what do you mean?"** 

Rhaenyra turned to him sharply, emphasizing, **"You can only marry one woman."** 

As soon as the words left her lips, her expression changed. A thought struck her, and disbelief flashed across her face. 

**"Are you still not over Jeyne?"** 

Rhaegar refused to give her up. 

And now he had come to negotiate. 

There was only one possible explanation. 

**"I'm not even of age to marry yet."** 

Rhaegar quickly denied it and began, **"Jeyne's status—"** 

Before he could finish, Rhaenyra's fury surged, and her emotional defenses instantly collapsed.

**The Next Second.** 

Rhaenyra erupted in fury, her peripheral vision catching sight of the dragon claw at Rhaegar's waist. 

*Swish—* 

In one swift motion, Rhaenyra drew the dragon claw, gripping the hilt tightly with both hands. The tip of the blade pressed swiftly and precisely against Rhaegar's throat. 

**"I dare you to say that again!"** 

She clenched her jaw, her entire body trembling violently. 

She vowed. 

If Rhaegar dared to repeat himself, she would drive the blade straight through his throat. 

**"Rhaenyra, hear me out."** 

Rhaegar made no move to evade the sword's tip and spoke solemnly, **"Jeyne will always be beneath you. I have an idea that suits you better."** 

**"You'd better understand that."** 

Rhaenyra's eyes reddened as she gave him a chance to explain. 

Rhaegar carefully chose his words, then dropped a bombshell: **"I want you to be queen."** 

Rhaenyra froze, thinking she had misheard him. 

Rhaegar was the heir. Where on earth would she become queen? 

**"Chaos in this world never ceases; it is both a disaster and a ladder."** 

Rhaegar's gaze was deep and serious as he continued, **"The uprisings in Dorne and the Kingdom of the Three Daughters will not stop. One day, they will erupt."** 

As he spoke, he reached up, grasping the blade that still pressed against his throat, and said slowly, **"I want to conquer new territory and make you its queen."** 

It could be Dorne, with its "Princess of Dorne" tradition. Or perhaps one of the Free Cities. 

He would take it—and she would rule it. 

By then, they would both be sovereigns. 

Rhaenyra listened in stunned silence. She hadn't expected Rhaegar's ambition to be so grand. 

*"Could it be that his successful conquest of the Three Daughters has made him arrogant?"* 

To be honest— 

The thought of becoming queen made Rhaenyra's heart race, and her hands trembled as they gripped the dragon claw. 

Luckily, Rhaegar had anticipated this and held the blade steady. 

But she quickly shoved the thought aside. 

**"No. Absolutely not. You're not getting rid of me that easily."** 

Setting aside the possibility of being queen— 

If she truly ruled a nation, wouldn't that mean she had to hand Rhaegar over to that wretched Jeyne? 

Rhaegar gently pushed the dragon claw aside and pulled her into an embrace, speaking with heartfelt sincerity, **"I never wanted to be separated from you. Haven't you always wanted to be a queen?"** 

After so many years together, no one knew Rhaenyra's desires better than he did. 

She had always idolized Queen Visenya and Nymeria, the conqueror of Dorne. 

At the same time, any new territory would need governance. 

Rather than entrusting it to fickle nobles, why not grant it to his own flesh and blood? 

With proper rules and restrictions— 

The Targaryen bloodline could flourish and expand. 

**"Then why don't you give Jeyne a kingdom?"** 

Rhaenyra gritted her teeth, lashing out in frustration. 

She was the one who should stand by Rhaegar's side. 

Rhaegar's gaze was clear and unwavering. **"Jeyne belongs to the Vale. You and I are born of fire."** 

**"Wind and rain cannot extinguish fire. We are destined to burn together."** 

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