Game of Thrones: I Am The Heir For A Day

Chapter 192: The Faceless Men – The Second Son’s Regiment

After leaving the banquet and the Red Keep, Rhaegar made his way directly to the Dragonpit.

He gathered the remaining seven hundred Dragonkeepers and, under Maynard's supervision, chose the two hundred most skilled among them.

"One hundred of you will sail to the Stepstones Islands tomorrow," Rhaegar ordered, "and one hundred will be stationed at the Red Keep to reinforce the guard."

The battlefield needed seasoned warriors, and the Red Keep's defenses required reinforcement to form an elite royal guard.

"Yes, Prince," Maynard acknowledged, leading the chosen men away.

Syrio approached, his hair disheveled as if he had just woken up from a nap. Rhaegar gave him a questioning look.

"Prince, remember the girl I mentioned?" Syrio said, stepping aside to reveal a young girl from a foreign land, dressed in a black robe.

Rhaegar's eyes widened in recognition. "Sara?"

His memory was sharp, especially since she had helped him acquire a Valyrian Steel sword. Sara stepped forward, kneeling. "Thank you for taking me in, Prince."

Rhaegar cast another questioning glance at Syrio.

"Sara grew up in Braavos and trained at the House of Black and White," Syrio explained.

"The Faceless Men?" Rhaegar was surprised. The House of Black and White was the headquarters of the Faceless Men, the world's most feared assassins.

"I'm afraid I must disappoint you, Prince," Syrio said. "Sara failed their test. Her target was killed before she could act, ending her examination prematurely."

Rhaegar listened as the situation unfolded. After her failed assassination, the House of Black and White severed ties with Sara. Fearing for her life, she fled, eventually ending up as a slave in a gladiator arena after being captured by Unsullied troops. Recently, a slave trader had bought her, intending to sell her in Pentos, but her ship was intercepted by the Three Daughters.

Rhaegar looked at Sara. "You wish to follow me?"

"Yes, Prince," Sara replied without hesitation.

"How can I trust you?" Rhaegar asked, wary of a former assassin.

Sara drew a dagger and held it above her head. "You protected me," she said earnestly.

Rhaegar's eyes flickered with contemplation. If Syrio was truthful, Sara was an outcast from the Faceless Men, struggling for survival. Her journey had been marked by hardship, leaving her vulnerable.

"So I will die for you," Sara declared in broken Valyrian, exposing her neck.

Rhaegar took the dagger from her and said, "Live well and stand in the sunlight." He tossed the dagger aside, where it landed with a clang.

"A faceless person does not deserve to live in the sunlight," Sara said, her voice tinged with loneliness.

"It doesn't matter. You’re not wearing a mask yet," Rhaegar replied. "Follow me. One face is enough."

Sara looked up, her light green eyes filled with confusion. "Yes, Prince," she said, standing to follow him.

As Rhaegar walked out of the Dragonpit, the bright moonlight bathed the earth in a pale glow.

Dozens of fully armed youths, clad in armor, knelt in two rows, their eyes fixed on Rhaegar as he approached. The moonlight illuminated his long silver-gold hair, which swayed gently in the evening wind, and his violet eyes, calm and composed. His handsome face, still youthful, belied the calm authority in his movements.

Rhaegar looked down at the second sons and bastards kneeling before him and smiled. "Are you looking for me?"

He understood their urgency. The recent events had come as a sudden shock.

A black-haired young man at the front began, "Prince, the pirates of the Triarchy have invaded our territory. Please allow us to join you and help cut through the thorns!"

"Your name is Robb Rivers, if I remember correctly," Rhaegar said confidently.

Robb lifted his head, his excitement palpable. "I am honored that you remember my name."

Rhaegar waved a hand. "What kind of force can you muster for me if I give you the chance?"

"In one night, I can call up a group of five hundred men," Robb replied, then added, "All second sons and bastards, trained as knights."

"Very well. I want to see five hundred men in full gear by morning," Rhaegar said, reaching out to pull Robb to his feet. "You will be the commander of the Second Sons, directly under me." fгee𝑤ebɳoveɭ.cøm

"I will fulfill my mission!" Robb's body trembled with excitement, eager to begin his task.

"Go on, and keep it discreet," Rhaegar advised, patting Robb's shoulder. He then walked down the steps between the two rows of young men.

His mere presence and a simple glance caused their blood to boil with excitement.

In Westeros, aside from a few great houses, most noble houses had only the eldest son as heir. The eldest son represented the family and held the fiefdom and the people. The second sons were often seen as backups, or squires to their older brothers.

Lesser nobles, unable to support all their children, would equip their second sons with armor, weapons, and horses before sending them out to find their own way. Bastards, often despised, had even fewer prospects.

By bringing in second sons and bastards, who lacked family support, Rhaegar found a loyal and skilled force. Many of these young men were trained as knights, proficient in riding, archery, and swordsmanship, capable of outmatching ordinary peasants on the battlefield.

Rhaegar's army, apart from the 1,200-strong Dragonkeepers, was in need of reinforcement. The Second Sons' Regiment, comprised of these eager and skilled men, would form a formidable addition to his forces.

...

On his way back to the Red Keep, Rhaegar rode in a carriage. In a dimly lit alley, a group of gold cloaks stood guard.

Rhaenyra, dressed in a black gown, stood on her tiptoes, watching the carriage slowly pass by.

"Princess, the prince has returned," Harwin said gently, holding a torch to light the way.

"I see him, Ser," Rhaenyra replied, a smile playing on her lips as she glimpsed Rhaegar's figure inside the carriage by the flickering light. "The banquet is not over yet. Let's return to the Red Keep."

"I've arranged a carriage for you," Harwin said, waving his hand to signal the gold cloaks to disperse. "Watch your step, Princess."

Rhaenyra smiled. "Thank you, Ser."

"Keeping the princess safe is the duty of the City Watch," Harwin replied solemnly, raising his hand in a gesture of invitation.

Rhaenyra gave him an skeptical look and gracefully boarded the carriage, lifting her skirt.

Harwin did not join her in the carriage but instead sent two gold cloaks to escort her, watching as the carriage departed. His eyes briefly revealed a glimmer of admiration.

Quickly composing himself, Harwin turned to the gold cloaks and barked, "Resume your patrols! No slacking!"

With that, he resumed his usual tough demeanor and led his men to patrol the city, diligently roaming the streets and alleys.

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