Rhaenyra suddenly stopped in place, her smile fading as she quietly turned around.
"What's wrong?"
Rhaegar asked with concern.
"It's nothing. Just… turn around first."
Rhaenyra's ears turned slightly red. She covered her chest with both hands, stumbling over her words.
"Did you bump into something?"
Rhaegar leaned in curiously.
"Rhaegar, you're too close."
Rhaenyra's expression became somewhat unnatural.
Rhaegar was clueless, his wide eyes full of innocence.
Rhaenyra shot him a glare, both embarrassed and annoyed. "It's your fault—I got hard nips."
Saying this, she kicked Rhaegar and walked off toward the castle alone.
Rhaegar stood there, utterly bewildered. He hadn't done anything!
---
The Banquet Hall
Viserys lounged in his chair, his eyes filled with anticipation.
On either side of the hall, musicians played a lighthearted tune.
A short-statured dwarf with an oversized head was dressed as a pirate, performing comically.
*Tap, tap, tap…*
A series of footsteps echoed from the corner of the hall, drawing the attention of those inside.
Viserys turned toward the sound, his excitement immediately rising. "Rhaegar! Rhaenyra!"
"Father!"
Now dressed in black, Rhaegar and Rhaenyra walked in hand in hand.
"My children! Was your journey to the Vale successful?"
Viserys greeted them warmly, his face beaming as he stood up.
Hearing this, the siblings exchanged a glance, silently communicating with their eyes.
Rhaenyra spread her arms and chuckled. "Yes. We have deterred the mountain clans, and the fleet from Gulltown has been sent to the Stepstones."
"That's wonderful. I was worried about you both."
Viserys let out a sigh of relief and embraced his daughter.
Then, he turned to his eldest son, scanning him up and down to make sure he was truly unharmed.
Rhaegar smiled slightly, resting his hands in front of his stomach.
On the surface, everything seemed fine, but in reality, two scars remained—one on his abdomen and another on his lower back.
"Oh ho ho! Look at this beautiful lady! Pirate Mushroom greets you!"
A high-pitched, childlike voice suddenly rang out. The dwarf dressed as a pirate came running over.
Midway, he dropped to one knee, skidding forward in an exaggerated manner until he stopped before the three of them, looking both comical and ridiculous.
Viserys laughed. "Mushroom is quite the jester. He always knows how to entertain."
Rhaenyra waved him over with amusement. "Mushroom, do you have any interesting stories to tell us?"
"Of course."
Mushroom quickly scrambled to his feet, patting his round belly before gazing up at Rhaenyra with an adoring look. He muttered, "Princess, your beauty is the most fascinating and marvelous thing in the world."
"Haha, I knew you'd say something like that."
Rhaenyra laughed, having grown fond of the sycophantic little dwarf.
Having won the favor of both the princess and the king, Mushroom felt exceedingly pleased with himself. His eyes then flickered toward Rhaegar, his expression full of admiration as he dramatically sighed:
"Oh, handsome prince, your journey to the Vale must have been filled with passion! I wonder how many noble ladies you have captivated."
Rhaegar glanced down at him, the corners of his mouth curling up slightly.
Mushroom, ever observant of the prince's expression, prepared to continue his flattery.
*Thud!*
Just as he opened his mouth, Rhaegar kicked him squarely in the face, sending him sprawling to the ground.
"Stop your nonsense in front of me."
Rhaegar frowned slightly and took Rhaenyra's hand, leading her forward—stepping right over Mushroom as he went.
"Rhaegar, Mushroom meant no harm."
Rhaenyra felt a little sorry for him as she watched him flail on the ground.
Rhaegar scowled. "If he weren't here for you and Father's amusement, he would've been sent to the Dragonpit with the livestock long ago."
He had no love for court jesters, especially loud and insufferable dwarves.
These types did nothing but flatter the powerful and spread gossip.
Hiding behind their supposed vulnerability, they slithered between the nobility without an ounce of integrity.
Rhaegar knew exactly what Mushroom was—someone who pried for secrets and spread rumors wherever he went.
**For Amusement and Attention**
Rhaenyra couldn't argue with him, so she could only order someone to take Mushroom away.
As the evening deepened, Viserys sent word to Alicent to prepare a welcoming feast for their children.
…
**Nightfall**
**The King's Bedchamber**
Viserys sat on the edge of the bed, struggling to remove his shirt.
Without the fabric covering him, the wounds on his body were fully exposed.
His shoulders, waist, arms…
New wounds layered over old scars, a total of more than a dozen injuries of varying severity.
Some were still bleeding, freshly cut.
Some were inflamed and festering, while others had begun to rot and emit a foul stench.
"Hiss… My wounds—do they look terrible?"
As his clothes brushed against his wounds, Viserys grimaced in pain, asking the question with an embarrassed smile.
Rhaegar stood behind him in silence.
Staring at his father's scarred body, Rhaegar parted his lips slightly, thousands of words forming in his mind—yet they were stuck in his throat, and he couldn't utter a single one.
When he was a child, his father had been cut by the Iron Throne, losing two fingers because of it.
Over the years, his father never mentioned his wounds in front of him, always covering them up.
Rhaegar had imagined his father being covered in wounds before.
But now that the reality was laid bare before him, he still couldn't remain calm. Forcing a smile, he spoke.
"No, you have endured pain for years—you are the strongest warrior."
Reaching out to touch his father's rough, sagging skin, Rhaegar spoke with a gentle, reassuring tone.
Viserys chuckled and shook his head. "You don't have to lie to me. I know my wounds all too well—ugly and disgusting."
He had known this since his nights with Alicent.
Even though his wife never said anything, he could still feel the aversion and resistance in her.
Otherwise, their time together wouldn't have lasted so long, and she wouldn't have been so dry.
Rhaegar's smile faded. Sitting beside his father, he said solemnly, "I will help heal your wounds and restore your health."
Extending his right hand, he chanted a spell—"Reversal." Thick black smoke billowed forth.
"Hisss…"
An ouroboros serpent slithered out from the smoke, instinctively burrowing into Viserys' wounds.
Compared to a few days ago, the serpent had grown slightly larger and more slender.
From Viserys' back, black smoke began to rise. The most severe wound, near his spine, was already rotting and reeked of decay.
The serpent first devoured the black smoke from this wound.
As time passed, most of the black smoke dissipated, leaving only a thin wisp.
The serpent gnawed hungrily, but this last strand of black smoke clung stubbornly, refusing to vanish.
"Hisss…"
The serpent slithered out of the wound, writhing as it moved on to the next one.
"What's going on?"
Rhaegar's eyes widened as he stared at the wound where the black smoke still lingered.
The decayed flesh was gone, replaced by fresh, red tissue that kept regenerating.
In the blink of an eye, it had healed to the state of a fresh cut, leaving only a faint, thin scar.
Yet both the wisp of black smoke and the scar remained on Viserys' back.
Viserys closed his eyes in comfort, asking curiously, "What is it, Rhaegar?"
He felt much lighter, the pain significantly reduced.
Rhaegar's gaze flickered. After a moment of hesitation, he replied, "A small complication, Father."
When the ouroboros had healed his own injuries, there had never been lingering traces of black smoke.
Yet now, the serpent continued devouring the smoke.
One wound after another—from the worst to the lightest—was treated, all ten or so of them.
But strangely, no matter the severity, each wound retained a lingering strand of black smoke.
And none of them fully healed—each left behind a thin, initial cut.
(End of Chapter)