"As you wish, my prince."
The elderly dragonkeeper, understanding the gravity of the situation, agreed without hesitation.
Aemon, standing nearby, overheard everything and looked uncertain. "Is there really a wild dragon on Dragonstone?"
"What? Do you want to try taming it?" Rhaegar, now composed, teased.
Aemon quickly shook his head and muttered, "The Sheepstealer… it's stronger than Sunfyre."
Rhaegar smirked. "Let's go, foolish boy."
The Four Storms were still eagerly awaiting this boy's return at Stone Drum Tower.
As they walked back, Aemon couldn't suppress his curiosity and asked, "Why hunt the wild dragon? Wouldn't it be better to let it stay on Dragonstone?"
Rhaegar glanced at him and replied nonchalantly, "You're so talented. How about staying at Storm's End in the future and marrying a Baratheon girl?"
"No! I don't want that!" Aemon instantly reacted, almost as if startled.
"Hmm~" Rhaegar's eyes glinted with amusement.
Aemon froze for a moment before realization struck him.
If he didn't want to stay at Storm's End, then why would a wild dragon want to stay on Dragonstone?
Seeing that Aemon wasn't entirely dim-witted, Rhaegar decided to give him a lesson.
"Aemon, why do you think our family rules Westeros?" Rhaegar asked in a calm voice.
"Because we have dragons!" Aemon answered without hesitation.
"That's right. It's because of dragons."
Rhaegar draped an arm over his shoulder and asked, "The Conqueror took Westeros with three dragons. Isn't that impressive?"
"Of course," Aemon answered without thinking.
Aegon the Conqueror and his sister-wives, Visenya and Rhaenys, each rode a dragon and established a unified kingdom in just a few years.
Aemon knew history well, and his young heart burned with ambition.
In his mind, if three people with three dragons could conquer the continent, then their family, with so many dragonriders, might even rule beyond the Narrow Sea.
Smack—
Rhaegar struck the back of his head. "Don't entertain such nonsense. War brings sacrifice, and it must not be waged lightly."
Seeing the eagerness in Aemon's eyes, he could already guess what the boy was thinking.
Their family was indeed at its strongest now, with nine Targaryen dragonriders.
But when war came, those who could truly take to the battlefield were few.
He and The Glutton would be the first to fight. Aegon and Sunfyre were essential. His father and Vermithor could still contribute.
Then there were Daemon and Caraxes, Rhaenys and Meleys.
The rest of the dragonriders were either Velaryons or too young to be considered.
Aemon, still rubbing the back of his head, huffed, "So what exactly are you trying to say?"
Rhaegar shook his head. "House Targaryen is strong not just because we have dragons, but because no one else does."
"Valyria is gone. The only dragonlord family left is House Targaryen," Aemon argued.
"Are you sure?" Rhaegar's gaze was meaningful.
Aemon hesitated, then asked cautiously, "Is there a problem?"
Rhaegar clicked his tongue, realizing that his father's inaction had led to his younger siblings' poor education.
After a brief moment of thought, Rhaegar said seriously, "Aemon, how many 'dragonseeds' are there on Dragonstone?"
Before Good Queen Alysanne abolished the lord's first-night right, every noblewoman married on Dragonstone was claimed by the Targaryen lord on her wedding night.
Over a century of such practices led to an uncountable number of silver-haired, purple-eyed bastards on the island.
Even after the law was abolished, Targaryen men remained popular among Dragonstone women. Any silver-haired, purple-eyed child born to them would receive a handsome sum of gold.
By now, the number of bastards far exceeded that of trueborn Targaryens.
These bastards were collectively known as "dragonseeds."
Aemon paused, then hesitated, "Dragonseeds aren't allowed to tame dragons. Dragonmont is patrolled by the Dragonkeepers."
"What if the dragon doesn't belong to House Targaryen?"
Rhaegar's voice turned serious. "Valyria is gone, but its descendants are scattered across every corner of Essos. Do you know how many fallen dragonlord families still have dragonseeds among them?"
Forget other dragonlord families—just his great-aunt, Saenyra, had left countless bastards across Lys and Volantis over the decades.
These people weren't lacking in dragonriding talent. They simply never had the opportunity to bond with or tame a dragon.
Aemon's eyes widened in realization, and he blurted out, "So that's why you want to hunt the wild dragon—to prevent it from escaping and being claimed by a rogue dragonseed!"
"Not just the wild dragon."
Now that the conversation had reached its main point, Rhaegar's tone grew firm. "Every single dragon, every dragon egg, even a dragon egg fossil—if it falls into the wrong hands, I will mount The Glutton and retrieve it myself."
"Have we lost any dragon eggs?" Aemon suddenly remembered an old story.
Rhaegar nodded, frowning. "During our great-grandfather Jaehaerys' reign, three of Dreamfyre's eggs were stolen."
At the time, Dreamfyre was ridden by Rhaena Targaryen, whose close companion, Elissa, had stolen the eggs. She sold them for a ship and gold, setting off on a life of adventure at sea.
When Rhaena found out, she executed a great number of dragonkeepers and Dragonguards before informing her brother Jaehaerys.
Jaehaerys was both furious and alarmed. He spent a fortune searching for the thief, the sellers, and the eggs—but all had vanished without a trace.
As a result, Jaehaerys warned his sister: if even one of those eggs hatched, war would be inevitable.
"This matter should have been pursued to the end," Aemon said firmly.
"Great-grandfather eventually gave up. It's been nearly seventy years since then," Rhaegar said flatly.
Aemon grew anxious. "A dragon egg takes about a hundred years to become completely unviable."
"Exactly. But Father seems to have forgotten all about it."
Rhaegar chuckled, then asked, "Remember my interest in collecting and rewarding the discovery of ancient artifacts?"
Aemon nodded, still puzzled.
Rhaegar winked. "I'm not just collecting artifacts. I've also placed bounties on any information regarding dragons."
"Really?" Aemon's eyes widened. He hadn't expected his brother to be so proactive.
Rhaegar patted his head and smiled. "I even sent an intelligence network to Volantis recently to monitor Essos."
The agents weren't just there to track Volantene movements—they were his eyes and ears across the Narrow Sea.
Putting aside the potential dangers of the three dragon eggs, the relics of the two royal dragon families—Daenlys and Balerion—had brought him immense gains.
He was determined to gather as much knowledge as possible about the royal dragon families, enriching the Targaryen legacy.
Aemond was stunned. He stared at his older brother in shock, his eyes shining with an inexplicable light.
Away from the intrigues and grudges of the Red Keep, he realized how impressive his brother was. There was so much to learn from him.
Rhaegar merely smiled.
Their father spent his days hosting feasts and tournaments, relying entirely on the Small Council to govern the realm. Naturally, Rhaegar had to make preparations in advance.
—
The next day.
"Screeeech—"
"Screeeech…"
Two distinct dragon roars echoed in the skies above Dragonstone.
Glutton soared into the air, its pitch-black body piercing through the clouds, while high-pitched screams came from its back.
Seated on the black iron saddle was Malisanne of the Four Storms, with Aelane and Floris clinging tightly to her. The three sisters were securely fastened with chains.
Ahead of them, Rhaegar, dressed in a flowing black robe, sat astride Glutton's back with his eyes closed, arms outstretched.
Having cleared out the sheep thieves' hideout, the brothers set off on their return journey to King's Landing.
Trailing far behind, the brown-mud-colored Sheepstealer followed cautiously, maintaining a safe distance.
On its back, Aemond wore a grim expression, gripping the rough, jagged scales tightly.
Behind him, Cassandra clung desperately to his waist, burying her face against him as she screamed in terror.
Sheepstealer was a newly tamed wild dragon, and there hadn't been time to install a saddle.
Aemond had insisted it was fine to ride bareback, convincing Cassandra with sweet words about a thrilling, romantic dragon ride between brother and sister.
Now she was probably scared enough to wet her dress.
—
Departing at dawn, the two dragons soared over Blackwater Bay before noon, gliding above King's Landing.
"Screeeech—"
Glutton circled over the city, lifting its head in a triumphant roar, basking in the awestruck gazes below.
Rhaegar smiled silently. It was the perfect way to announce his return.
"Screeeech…"
Sheepstealer followed closely behind, its slitted pupils darting around curiously as it took in the sights of the city. It circled the tallest buildings in fascination.
The towering sept bell tower stood at the city's center. As Sheepstealer banked to the side, the powerful gust from its wings sent the bronze bell tolling—"DONG! DONG!"
"Sheepstealer, get back to the Dragonpit!"
Aemond's face had gone pale as he urgently commanded the dragon.
Sheepstealer had spent the entire flight deliberately toying with him, flying erratically and nearly throwing him off multiple times.
He struggled to maintain his composure, while behind him, Cassandra was on the verge of hysteria.
After circling the city twice, the two dragons finally glided toward Rhaenys's Hill, landing before the Dragonpit's rear cave entrance.
The front entrance led to the grand hall, while the rear entrance opened into caverns carved into the hillside.
Rhaegar helped the trembling Malisanne and her sisters dismount, shaking his head with a sigh.
He had told them to take a ship back to King's Landing, but they had insisted on experiencing the thrill of dragon riding.
Glutton was incredibly fast, and the rushing wind alone could leave a person dazed.
Still, they fared better than Cassandra.
Sheepstealer, though another fully grown dragon, was not slow either, managing to keep pace only because Glutton had held back.
When Rhaegar glanced back, he saw Aemond sluggishly climbing down from the dragon, while Cassandra remained completely stiff, unmoving as he carried her off.
Hearing the commotion, the Dragonkeepers rushed over, speaking High Valyrian as they coaxed the dragons into the pit.
Glutton and Sheepstealer entered one after the other, paying no attention to the Dragonkeepers whatsoever.
Rhaegar found the scene amusing, further deepening his understanding of wild dragons.
As he turned his head, he noticed a white-lacquered wheelhouse parked not far from the Dragonpit.
"Wormysor, move forward…"
Just as the two dragons entered the pit, several Dragonkeepers in coarse robes struck their bamboo staffs, guiding a massive bronze-scaled beast as it slowly crawled out.
The wheelhouse door swung open, and from within, a man clad in black robes and crowned with a golden circlet stepped out.
Viserys had arrived.