Game of Thrones: I Am The Heir For A Day

Chapter 426: Changes In Dreamfyre

The following day, two giant dragons, one black and one blue, soared over the smoke-ridden Stonehelm, their majestic forms casting shadows on the scorched earth below. The ashes spread for miles beyond the city walls.

Suddenly, the ground gently trembled as a large group of Storm Knights arrived on horseback, numbering around two thousand. Leading them was Royce Caron, the Lord of Nightsong.

The Storm Knights set up camp outside the city, and some of the officers entered the castle. Royce, filled with apprehension, climbed the broken gray walls.

Beneath a watchtower facing the sea, Rhaegar stood with his elbows braced against the wall, quietly admiring the flow of the ocean waves. War wore down one's patience, and a beautiful view was more nourishing to the mind.

"Brother, Lord Caron is here," Helaena announced. She was draped in a green cloak, with two strands of silver hair behind her ears, braiding her long silver and gold locks.

Rhaegar glanced sideways to see the middle-aged, stout man with a changed expression. Royce knelt on one knee and said in a muffled voice, "I apologize for failing to fulfill my role as commander, leading to this disaster."

He referred to the fall of House Swann. As fellow Stormlands nobles and garrison families, he felt responsible for their downfall.

Rhaegar rubbed his brow and sighed softly. "It's good that you recognize the problem. I don't have the time to pursue responsibility now." He turned around and leaned against the wall with a natural movement, exuding calm and collected energy.

Royce stole a glance at the Heir Prince's side profile, feeling ashamed. "Prince, I will exterminate the remnants of Dorn that infest the Stormlands as soon as possible."

Helaena observed the exchange, quietly learning her brother's way of handling matters.

Rhaegar's eyes rippled with seriousness. "Olyvar Yronwood fled, the remnants of Dorn are not a big problem. I want to ask for advice on the Vulture Mountains."

Since ancient times, the Dornish territories had frequently clashed with the Reach and Stormlands, with mutual aggression and harassment becoming the norm. This large-scale Dorn invasion of the Stormlands was still very rare.

With three dragons in the Stormlands, it was only a matter of time before the Dornish combat commander was caught and the remnants wiped out. Rhaegar suspected Qoren's actions would go far beyond that, anticipating a massive invasion of the Prince's Pass and Boneway.

Royce's face changed slightly, as if he had thought of a key factor. He quickly replied, "Nightsong lacks soldiers and generals and relies on the support of the Lords of Highgarden. The prince should start from this aspect."

As the Lord of Nightsong, Royce was aware of its vulnerabilities. He was here in Stonehelm, leaving Nightsong dependent on the brothers who stayed behind to watch over it.

As a territory in the Dornish borderlands, Nightsong lacked fertile land by a river or a harbor with well-developed maritime transportation. It wasn't rich by nature. The constant fighting with the Dornish had left the territory large in scope but sparse in population.

To man the fortress at the Prince's Pass, Highgarden would need to provide both financial support and manpower.

Rhaegar remained contemplative, remarking, "Lord Tyrell has long been out of the army."

Though Highgarden's old Tyrell was mediocre and a bit of a money-grubber, he was dedicated to his duties as the liege lord of the Reach.

Royce hesitated briefly before adding, "The combat power of the Reach's army is limited, and it's mostly forcefully recruited. It would be better for you to personally supervise it."

It was well known that the armies of the Riverlands and The Reach were the best equipped but often the least effective. Old Lord Tyrell was old and pleasure-seeking by nature, and was unlikely to lead the army into battle. To fully utilize their combat power, it would be better for the Heir Prince to take over.

Rhaegar's eyes flashed, understanding the deeper meaning in Royce's words. The Reach was very rich. Excluding the Oldtown army that went out to sea to participate in the Battle of the Narrow Sea, there were at least 10,000 soldiers stationed at the Prince's Pass. Properly utilized, this large-scale army could have a great impact.

On a broader scale, once the Dornish Rebellion was quelled, Rhaegar's prestige in The Reach would rise even higher, overshadowing the Highgarden Lords and Oldtown House Hightower.

"Thank you for your advice, Lord Royce," Rhaegar said with a slight smile.

"I wish you all the best," Royce replied, then retired.

Once he was gone, the siblings looked at each other.

Helaena cocked her head and whispered, "Are we going to Highgarden?"

She thought of the Little Rose in Highgarden, who had offered to befriend her.

"Probably," Rhaegar replied ambiguously.

For the time being, there were no less than three places where war had broken out: Braavos attacking Pentos, the Stormlands sweeping away the remnants of Dorne, and the threat from the Vulture Mountains.

"Roar..."

A sharp dragon roar interrupted the siblings' chat. Rhaegar raised his eyes and saw an ugly, rotten dragon swooping in and circling the sea below the watchtower.

"Baa..."

The rotten dragon clutched a goofy goat in its claws.

"It hasn't given up yet," Helaena said softly.

"Roar..."

The Sheepstealer hissed, trying and daring to move closer, curtly stimulating the goat to screech. It seemed to want to exchange the goat for something.

Rhaegar's posture remained unchanged as he couldn't help but smile, "This guy is really smart, just a bit unlike an adult dragon."

Dragons were typically very proud, and the Sheepstealer's behavior was somewhat undignified.

Helaena puffed out her cheeks and reached out her small hand to shake it, "There's no more." fɾeeweɓnѳveɭ.com

She was speaking to the Sheepstealer. The rotten dragon scowled twice, its vertical pupils in its sunken eye sockets floating in scrutiny, hesitant to leave. freewebnøvel.com

"Roar-"

The two giant dragons flying in the sky gradually descended and let out warning roars. Sheepstealer, caught in the act, hurriedly moved away.

The two dragons closed their wings, their hind feet landing gracefully on the gray city wall.

"Roar..."

Cannibal's green eyes glowed, locking onto the deceitful Sheepstealer. It was clear that a sneaky dragon was never trustworthy.

Dreamfyre roared softly, descending right next to Helaena. Its elegant light blue dragon head reached over her shoulder.

Helaena smiled brightly, petting the tall dragon.

Rhaegar observed the bond between his sister and her dragon, especially noting Dreamfyre's radiant appearance. "Dreamfyre looks very spirited," he commented.

This was the first dragon he had truly come into contact with up close. Slim with brilliant silver lines, its temperament was as outstanding as its appearance.

"Roar..."

Dreamfyre's vertical pupils glanced over at Rhaegar. It opened its mouth slightly, a low roar escaping its throat.

Helaena rubbed her face against Dreamfyre, her voice filled with excitement. "Dreamfyre is in high spirits after eating that scale."

Just last night, the siblings had given the [Dragon Essence] to Dreamfyre. Both Cannibal and Sheepstealer were present. Upon seeing the [Dragon Essence], Cannibal had remained calm, as if looking at an ordinary scale. Sheepstealer, on the other hand, had drooled, staring at the dragon scale-shaped [Dragon Essence] with glowing eyes. Dreamfyre had swiped it away with its tail, quickly devouring the scale.

It seemed the [Dragon Essence] wasn't attractive to fully adult dragons but caused those not yet at their peak to go berserk.

"Roar..."

Dreamfyre arched its back, its vertical pupils fixed on Sheepstealer, who refused to leave. A pair of light blue wings spread out, giving a clear warning.

Dreamfyre was large, with its head and tail spanning over eighty meters and a wingspan of up to one hundred meters. Though not as large as Cannibal, and smaller than Vermithor and Silverwing of the same age, it was still more than enough to intimidate Sheepstealer.

Caraxes and Meleys were around 60 to 70 meters in size, with Sheepstealer slightly over 70 meters. According to the Dragonlords's ancient records, Caraxes and Meleys were of normal size, while Sheepstealer was exceptional among stout dragons.

Excluding the wild dragons, Caraxes and Meleys had more eye-catching talents despite their size. Caraxes, nicknamed Blood Wyrm, had a slender snake-like body, making it a mutant breed with a ferocious bloodthirsty personality and a strong, dominant Dragonfire. Meleys, known as the "fastest dragon," had yet to be surpassed in speed.

Rhaegar, captivated, murmured to himself, "Size is not a decisive factor; the use of talent is what truly matters."

"Roar..."

Just as he was lost in thought, Dreamfyre lunged forward, baring its fangs ferociously.

Sheepstealer immediately dropped the goat and flew away in a cloud of dust. As a wild dragon, knowing when to avoid a fight was also a crucial survival skill.

Helaena watched with delight, pleased with Dreamfyre's newfound assertiveness. Dreamfyre had once been ferocious but rarely messed with other dragons. After swallowing the special scale, it had become very domineering.

"Roar..."

Dreamfyre let out a low growl, rubbing its head lightly against Helaena before flapping its wings and flying away.

Helaena was stunned, her expression adorably confused. She seemed to sense Dreamfyre's desire to express itself more fully—spitting Dragonfire, hunting with its powerful jaws ...

It appeared to be a positive growth change.

Helaena didn’t hold back and told her brother everything.

Rhaegar simply replied, "That's a good thing."

...

By the afternoon, Stonehelm was bustling with activity. Storm Knights patched the walls and gates while the remaining squires prepared cauldrons for cooking.

"Princess..."

"Princess..."

Helaena walked alone through the kitchen, greeted by passing cooks and squires. She nodded and checked the inventory in the cellar.

After the sacking by the Dornishmen, the cellar and the granary were nearly empty, relying heavily on the dry food the Storm Knights had brought from Crow's Nest. Helaena, showing little emotion, meticulously checked everything.

Her brother was discussing strategy with Lord Royce, so she had volunteered to oversee the cooking. Though it seemed a small task, she believed that every bit of learning was valuable. As she soon found out, cooking for an army was no easy task - it meant making sure the soldiers had enough to eat.

Knock Knock!

While she was making food, a loud noise came from the corridor outside the kitchen. Wiping sweat from her forehead, Helaena suspiciously looked deeper into the corridor. Around a corner, a silver-blond head poked out.

"Aemond?" Helaena murmured, putting down the basin and seeking him out. The cooks around her didn’t notice, continuing their work.

Soon, the siblings met in a hidden corner. Aemond looked sullen, deep in thought, and didn’t speak at first.

"Ask directly if you have something to say; there’s no need to hide it," Helaena said, her eyes clear and honest.

"You ..." Aemond began, then looked around to ensure no one was listening. "I saw you and Rhaegar hugging."

Helaena asked directly, "So what do you want to say? Call off the engagement?"

"No!" Aemond was startled and hurriedly stopped his sister. She was good at everything, but she had a mouth that loved to tell the truth.

Helaena shrugged and gazed at Aemond, giving him a straight look. Aemond tried to retort but gradually drooped his head, saying hopelessly, "You shouldn’t be like this. You’re almost an aunt."

He had gone to look for the Sheepstealer in the morning and happened to see the two getting intimate on the walls. Worried, he advised, "Rhaenyra is a bad woman. If she knew about this, she’d sell you to a pleasure house in Lys."

Helaena: ...

Worthy of being a child raised by their mother, even the words he said were the same.

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