The Next Day.
A piece of news spread from the Red Keep.
Once released, it echoed through every alley and street of King's Landing.
Dragons!!
The King's second son, Daeron Targaryen, had hatched three dragons on Dragonstone and was bringing them back to King's Landing.
"Haven't dragons been extinct for over a hundred years?"
"I thought dragons were just legends."
"..."
Even in the poorest slums of Flea Bottom, the commoners were discussing it animatedly.
And the Red Keep, the eye of the storm, had already descended into madness.
---
On board The Rogue Prince.
Daeron stayed in his cabin, planning his next moves.
He was the one who had leaked the news.
The existence of the hatchlings couldn't be hidden for long. Trying to hide them would only put him at a disadvantage.
Releasing the news was the only way to boost his reputation to the peak, potentially surpassing Rhaegar's years of accumulation in one fell swoop.
"Fame attracts fortune."
Daeron looked far ahead, calculating that the opportunity far outweighed the danger.
Skree-ga!
Skree... ga...
Locked in three cages, the hatchlings flapped their wings and screeched discontentedly at Daeron.
"Don't run around, understand?"
Daeron opened the cages and let the three hatchlings out.
Skree-ga!
The black hatchling darted out like a streak of black lightning, flying onto Daeron's bed and tearing at the sheets with vigor.
Daeron's face darkened. "Toothless, stop that!"
The red hatchling was also restless. Using its large wings to support its snake-like body, it climbed onto the furnace-shaped incubator and screeched sharply at the lid.
Seeing this, Daeron understood.
The hatchlings were hungry.
He caught the blue hatchling trying to fly and placed it on his left shoulder, then got up to rummage through the chest by the door.
During his time on Dragonstone, he had occasionally fished by the sea.
He had caught quite a few ocean fish.
"Don't rush, I'll feed you in a second."
Daeron found three palm-sized sardines. He pushed aside the red hatchling occupying the incubator, opened the lid, and placed the fish on the charcoal fire to cook.
House Targaryen hadn't perished yet, and knowledge about dragons had been passed down through generations.
Dragons only ate cooked food, and it had to be well-done.
Soon, the three fish were charred black.
The hatchlings feasted, demonstrating the true meaning of wolfing down food.
"Eat up so you won't be hungry later."
As they were about to dock, Daeron took out three more sardines.
These ocean fish were special, imbued with vitality. Each one was valuable and perfect for feeding young dragons.
"Eat more, grow faster."
---
The Mud Gate.
Daeron walked down the gangplank.
At this moment, the entire harbor was deserted; idlers had been cleared out in advance.
Over a hundred Gold Cloaks controlled the city gate, standing ready.
"Welcome, Prince!"
The Gold Cloaks shouted in unison, thumping their chests with a thunderous sound.
"Prince, as per your arrangement, we have secured all seven gates of King's Landing."
Alliser Thorne and Commander Manly stepped forward quickly, their expressions extremely serious.
Daeron nodded. "Well done."
Controlling the only armed force in King's Landing, why would he put himself in danger?
If he was returning to King's Landing, he would do so openly and grandly.
"Prince, please!"
Alliser brought over two white horses.
Daeron mounted one and tied the three cages containing the hatchlings to the back of the other.
Skree-ga!
Skree-ga...
The hatchlings bumped against the cages, emitting uneasy screeches.
Alliser's breath hitched, his gaze involuntarily drawn to them.
The three cages were covered with black cloth.
Although he couldn't see the dragons inside, hearing the hatchlings' cries was enough to make a loyal royalist's blood boil.
Entering the city.
Thousands of Gold Cloaks lined the streets, firmly controlling every route Daeron's procession would pass until they reached the Red Keep.
Unable to break through the Gold Cloaks' blockade, the citizens of King's Landing pressed against the wall of gold cloaks, craning their necks to catch a glimpse of the young Prince riding by.
Daeron was dressed in black, wearing a knitted wool hat, his appearance striking as always.
He rode his white horse slowly and deliberately.
Like a hero returning in triumph, ensuring everyone could see his face.
At the rear of the procession, a wagon carried the bones of the malformed dragon. Its grotesque shape and pitch-black bones drew gasps from the commoners.
The three cages containing the hatchlings, ironically, drew less attention.
At the same time, a new rumor spread like wildfire.
"The Bold Prince" Daeron had braved the Dragonmont, single-handedly slain a cursed demonic dragon, and saved the local residents of Dragonstone.
This act drew the blessing of the Seven, granting him the power to withstand fire.
Because of this, Prince Daeron hatched the dragon eggs, bringing true dragons back to the world.
Whether the story was true or false didn't matter; it was undoubtedly captivating.
Especially with the legendary Kingsguard, "Barristan the Bold," bearing witness, pushing the story to a climax.
After all, a Kingsguard would not lie.
And the demonic dragon skeleton brought back on the wagon was seen by the citizens of King's Landing with their own eyes.
---
The Red Keep.
The portcullis was raised. Ser Jon Darry took command, replacing the castle guards with Gold Cloaks.
A Kingsguard had that authority.
"Alliser, guard the gate well."
Daeron gave the order and led a squad of Gold Cloaks inside.
Passing the city was one hurdle; the Red Keep was the next.
He expected obstacles.
Unexpectedly, when Ser Jon stated his identity and purpose, the castle garrison obeyed unconditionally.
With the Red Keep's gate secured, the only thing left was to watch out for ambushes.
Someone was waiting to escort them to the Throne Room.
Daeron dismounted, flanked by Barristan and Davos.
Davos had little combat ability and was carrying the three cages.
But with Barristan there, the journey would surely be safe.
"Prince, do not stray too far from me later."
Barristan instructed gravely.
As a witness to Prince Daeron hatching the dragons, his loyalty, originally leaning toward Prince Rhaegar, had quietly shattered and reformed into firm support for Prince Daeron.
From the moment the dragons were born, there was no comparison between the two.
Targaryens never lacked for madmen and great men.
The previous "Restorer," Baelor "Breakspear," had achieved nothing before his death, ending as merely the Prince of Dragonstone.
No matter how excellent Prince Rhaegar was, he had yet to demonstrate the ability to rule.
But Prince Daeron had actually hatched dragons.
Dragons! That was the strongest claim a Targaryen could have!
Daeron chuckled softly. "Ser, today might go very smoothly."
"I hope so."
Barristan gripped his sword hilt, not trusting the King he had served faithfully.
---
The Throne Room.
When Daeron arrived, the hall was empty, the atmosphere dead silent.
He had expected a crowd.
Summoning noble lords to witness the newborn dragons was his father Aerys's style.
Soon, he got his answer.
Lord Chelsted, a bandage wrapped around his forehead, trotted over and lowered his voice. "Prince, His Grace is in a very unstable state. Be careful with your words and actions."
After the Maester delivered the news of Daeron bringing back hatchlings to the King...
The King had gone practically insane!
He raved like a madman, shouting to summon the lords of the Seven Kingdoms to witness the birth of the dragons.
The Small Council had tried their best to dissuade him, barely suppressing the King's unwise decision.
Daeron understood. "My Lords, thank you for your contribution to the realm."
Lord Chelsted sighed softly and signaled for the Prince to approach.
"Boy, you're finally back."
Aerys leaned forward, barely able to contain his madness, shouting, "Quick! Give me the dragons!"