The city renewed itself, beginning a new day.
The citizens of King's Landing still talked excitedly about the grand wedding, though they were more reluctant to part with the cakes, smoked meats, and candies of the Lannister and Targaryen Families.
Glory and joy were yesterday's news; Rhaegar now faced a bloody whirlpool.
Regarding his grandfather, Jaehaerys II, who had suddenly fallen gravely ill, even complaining that he couldn't breathe.
When Jaehaerys II was severely injured, a Red Keep attendant also died quite conveniently. He came from a minor Lords' second son, had no wife or children, and died with no one to mourn him. People said he secretly gambled in Flea Bottom and watched fang fights. It was rumored he choked to death on water, and his body was quickly disposed of.
Rhaegar suspected this was no coincidence, perhaps some unknown poison, from an unknown force. Jaehaerys II had always been in poor health, so a small, trace amount of poison wouldn't draw attention. Lysene poisons were the most famous, and Rhaegar thought it wouldn't be surprising if they had a poison more potent than the Tears of Lys.
The Dragon King gained many friendships, but also offended many people.
Long ago, his ancestor, Baelon, also suffered a sudden illness like a raging storm.
Prince Baelon complained of a stabbing pain in his side during a hunt. His condition rapidly worsened upon returning to King's Landing, and he eventually became bedridden with severe pain in his bedroom in the Hand's Tower. Five days later, Baelon died of a ruptured belly. Baelon's death left a huge rift in the kingdom, ultimately accelerating the Dance of the Dragons.
"Without the Seed of Fire, would I also fear those Tears of Lys or the Strangler?" Rhaegar thought, a wisp of flame quietly flowing in his palm. If not for the Seed of Everlasting Spring Fire, Rhaegar's grandfather would have already died.
In a hidden room somewhere in the Red Keep, Cesar brought a thin, Grey-Haired young man before Rhaegar.
The thin young man was of humble origin, and Cesar packaged him as a toy maker the Prince needed.
Rhaegar didn't distrust Barristan, but the White Knight valued honor too much; he was not as adaptable as Cesar.
After bringing the man, Cesar stood aside and said nothing more.
He had accepted Rhaegar's command; perhaps those born into powerful families always flowed with conspiracy and fire.
In Braavos, Cesar had also seen those Sea Princes and Princesses; the unworthy ones would even be driven out of Braavos.
The young man still looked nervous and excited; commoners coming to the palace always felt it was a place of extravagant indulgence.
King's Landing was layered; living in the Red Keep or in Flea Bottom and Silk Street were completely different worlds.
Some were born in the Red Keep, others in Flea Bottom.
Rhaegar observed the young man, Roken, the "Grey-Haired" Rat Catcher from Flea Bottom.
He was slender, agile, quick-handed, a young and skilled Rat Catcher, yet this could not change Roken's humble and earthy aura.
When Cesar disguised himself to gather information in Flea Bottom, only the Rat Catcher provided the most complete and detailed material, even speculating on the identity of the visitor.
"I heard Cesar say that you didn't choose a gold dragon, but rather the opportunity to meet me?" Rhaegar said to Roken, toying with a gold dragon in his hand.
"Yes, Prince!" Roken suddenly became excited, his voice trembling slightly. This was the Prince; usually, he trembled even when facing the Gold Cloaks.
"Why?" Rhaegar asked.
"I need an opportunity, a chance to rise in the world. Prince, you know, we poor people all need a ladder to get ahead. When Master Cesar appeared before me, I knew the ladder had come." Roken's face flushed, and he stammered a bit.
Rhaegar looked at the Grey-Haired Roken with interest. Born in Flea Bottom, a skilled Rat Catcher, familiar with the geography of King's Landing. Even a petty thief had his uses.
"Putting everything else aside, this kid is very sharp," Cesar nodded, which was a kind of praise for Roken.
"I've always paid attention to the situation in King's Landing. A young man with a Braavosi accent and good skills is most likely the Prince's sword instructor. Plus, you asked about that person, the Fat Man who often gambled in Flea Bottom; his big mouth said a lot about the Red Keep. As soon as you spoke, I knew Master Cesar was from the Red Keep." Roken explained the situation clearly.
Rhaegar looked at Roken; the Rat Catcher had brought Rhaegar valuable clues.
"Tell me about the Fat Man," Rhaegar prompted Roken, emphasizing the important points. The Fat Man was the nickname of the attendant who died suddenly.
"Alright, Prince," Roken continued. "The Fat Man had no particular hobbies. He didn't much like women, nor boys. He wasn't handsome, and no woman was willing to flirt with this second son.
His favorite thing was gambling; he loved gambling more than life itself—dog races, fang fights, dice, he liked them all. But the Fat Man always lost. He hadn't made any money these years, instead accumulating more and more debt, on the verge of bankruptcy and tears. The casino owners in Flea Bottom would send him things, urging him to pay back, like dead pigeon heads or rotten pig's trotters.
The Fat Man was driven to the brink, but a while ago, he suddenly paid off his debts at the gambling house. We were all a bit surprised, thinking the Fat Man's deceased sister-in-law had a change of heart and sent him some money. During that time, the Fat Man started gambling heavily again, but he was somewhat melancholic. Not long after, the Fat Man also died."
Roken was small in stature, but his recounting of information was very realistic and vivid.
Rhaegar smelled a conspiracy, a scent lingering in the air, but he didn't know who was behind it, which was also discomforting. The Fat Man's body was already ashes; this person truly had no ties or attachments.
The question was, who was this person? These people hiding behind the scenes were like biting cold, like winter wind. Were they from Lys, Myr, or Braavos? Very secretive, and very malicious.
Even with Rhaegar's shrewdness, he felt the poisoner's timing was excellent. Large-scale poisoning would draw attention, but targeting key figures was a way to smoothly alter the course of history.
Targeting Baelon took advantage of the unstable succession, with tension between the eldest and second sons' families, causing the kingdom to lose a legitimate and wise Crown Prince, accelerating the Dance of the Dragons, as the succession almost led to war at the time.
Targeting Jaehaerys II meant depriving the kingdom of a wise monarch. King Jaehaerys II mended ties between the Targaryens and other Lords, strengthened Targaryen power, and reconciled with the great nobles his father had offended. Prince Aerys, however, was fickle and impatient, not a good king.
"How do you know so much?" Rhaegar looked at Roken, very interested.
"I'm from Flea Bottom. I have friends in brothels, casinos, fighting pits, butcher shops, fish shops, and cheap inns."
"Prince, I believe I also have a chance to sit on the throne of the top Rat Catcher of King's Landing. I am skilled and quick at my work. My body is flexible; I can move quickly or stealthily through houses and tunnels. Those gambling dens, brothels, and even high-ranking officials all need me. They think Roken is a fool, but Roken only listens and doesn't speak. Roken is waiting for a good opportunity." Roken answered respectfully.
Rhaegar looked at Roken; he needed an informant, but only if he was loyal enough. Roken, though inconspicuous, was highly useful as someone who knew information best.
I need such a person, Rhaegar thought.
Rhaegar needed eyes and spies to keep watch over King's Landing, especially as he prepared to explore other places.
Rhaegar did not trust the populace of King's Landing; it was a terrifying force.
Throughout history, there had been numerous mobs.
They could be calm as water, yet surge like fire.
Rhaegar even had deeper plans for Roken. Currently, only he, his grandfather, and his father knew about the Red Keep's tunnels. To explore the secret passages, a Rat Catcher was the best choice.
Within the Red Keep's web of secret passages, there should still be a corpse: Roken's predecessor, Cheese, who was hired by Prince Daemon to assassinate Aegon II's son and ultimately died within the secret passages.
"Tell me your strengths, Roken." Rhaegar placed the gold dragon on the table.
"Yes, Your Royal Highness. I come from a poor background; this is both my weakness and my strength. Roken can get along with prostitutes, butchers, and gamblers. And Roken knows his limits: I like to gamble but won't lose everything, I like to drink but won't get drunk, I like to chat but won't reveal secrets, I like women but won't share work with them." Roken said, his eyes glinting, as if a golden path was opening before him.
I need an opportunity to rise quickly, Roken thought.
Roken knelt firmly on the ground, "I am willing to serve the Prince."
"Very good, you are a clever man, and I like talking to clever men. I am the Prince, and you are a Rat Catcher; our statuses are different, but our professions have no high or low standing." A smile played on Rhaegar's face as he stepped forward and patted Roken's shoulder.
Speaking of being close to the people, modern individuals are infinitely better than aristocratic families. Being close to the people is also a kind of charm.
"I am just a Rat Catcher, and for the Prince to look upon me so favorably, I shall dedicate all my efforts to the Prince, until death."
"It is said the Prince's nickname is the lucky one; I will be grateful for your support my entire life." Roken was overwhelmed, as if gold light illuminated his heart. He would consider this day his lucky one.
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