[Rhaegar Targaryen]
Talent: Dreamer (Gold)Bloodline: Ancient Valyrian Dragonlord (+8%)Skills: Literature (Beginner), History (Beginner)Relic: Blood and Fire as One (Fire Resistance +50%)
Evaluation: "The ancient bloodline shows signs of revival. If he encounters a miracle, perhaps he can escape his current plight."
Rhaegar stared at the panel before him, deep in thought.
Both the bloodline, relic, and evaluation sections had changed.
"The ancient bloodline…"
He murmured softly, "Did Blood and Fire as One awaken the blood of the true dragon?"
Then he shook his head. "Forget it. Thinking too much won't help. Better to keep searching for the lost relics."
Feeling his body lighter than before, Rhaegar tried jumping down from the altar—and succeeded.
"The Explorer System will definitely cure my frail body."
With a faint thrill of excitement, Rhaegar's brows arched upward. He silently celebrated his stroke of fortune.
But the excitement didn't cloud his reason.
The young prince still needed to return to bed.
When he stepped out of the hall, dusk had already fallen. Servants were lighting the oil lamps along the walls, the flickering flames illuminating the crimson halls of the Red Keep under the night sky.
No one noticed him along the way, and Rhaegar soon made it back to his quarters.
Creak—
As he pushed open the door, the room was dim and quiet. Moonlight filtered through the glass windows, casting a soft, hazy glow.
"Who's there?"
Standing at the doorway, Rhaegar's voice turned sharp, his eyes locking onto the figure by the window.
Someone was waiting for him—at night—in his bedroom.Could it be… an assassin?
"It's me, Rhaegar."
The figure turned. Under the moonlight, he saw a young woman in a fitted leather gown.
She had the same silver-gold hair as him.
The girl faced him and shrugged. "What, have you forgotten your own sister just because no one celebrated your birthday?"
"Rhaenyra…? Why are you in my room?"
Seeing her face clearly, Rhaegar let out a breath of relief, a faint smile softening his expression.
The girl was his full-blooded sister—The rightful heir to the Iron Throne.The Light of the Kingdom—Princess Rhaenyra.
Leaning against the window, Rhaenyra gazed at his pale face, eyes glimmering with pity.
Turning away slightly, she hesitated. "Today's your birthday. As your sister, I thought I should come see you."
Rhaegar smiled brightly. "I'm glad you came, sister."
"But you know I don't like birthdays."
Rhaenyra sighed. "I know. I went to see Mother today, and then came to find you this afternoon… I've been waiting here ever since."
"You haven't eaten?"
Rhaegar's sudden question caught her off guard.
"I had a bit of bread this morning. The rest of the day…"
"So you haven't eaten," Rhaegar interrupted, walking toward the bedside cabinet to rummage through it.
"What are you looking for?" Rhaenyra asked curiously.
"Don't worry, I have some supplies."
He pulled out a small packet of biscuits from the drawer.
Handing it to her, Rhaegar then took the cold pot of tea on the table and hung it over the fireplace, lighting the coals beneath.
"The Red Keep is always damp and cold, whether it's winter or summer."
He sat casually by the fire, patting the space beside him, motioning for Rhaenyra to sit.
"How have you been lately? Still having those nightmares?"
Without refusing his small gesture, Rhaenyra took a biscuit, biting into it gracefully, then shared the warmth of the fire with him.
"Give me one, I haven't eaten either."
Rhaegar snatched the biscuit she was about to take and said with a smirk, "Nightmares follow me like shadows. I've gotten used to them."
"And what about you? Where have you been until now—skipping dinner and all?"
Rhaenyra frowned slightly, concern in her eyes. "The Grand Maester says you've been refusing your medicine again. Father and I are both worried."
"I just went wandering a bit. I know my own body. The medicine doesn't solve anything, but I believe I'll recover soon."
Rhaegar deflected, then changed the topic. "Come on, tell me—what's bothering you this time?"
Rhaenyra's lips pressed together. "We were talking about you."
"But every time you come see me, you end up ranting about politics."
Rhaegar munched on a biscuit. "My dear sister, I've already accepted my fate as your personal listener."
"Idiot."
She huffed coldly. "It's that filthy game of power again. Those lords think women shouldn't sit on the Iron Throne. They're trying to drag me down and make Father name Aegon instead."
"Father loves you, sister," Rhaegar said softly.
He didn't believe King Viserys would ever hurt his own daughter just to appease the court.
"Love me? Hardly!"
Rhaenyra's voice rose, startling him.
"I'm sorry," she said quickly, realizing her outburst. "The rumors… they're driving me mad."
Sighing, she reached out and gently ruffled his hair, her tone quieter. "Father wants to marry me off to some powerful noble who can help him secure his throne. I feel like… like…"
"Like you're being sold off like a piece of cargo?" Rhaegar finished her thought.
"Rhaegar… my little brother."
Her eyes grew red as she clutched his thin hand tightly.
Ever since their mother died, Father had married her best friend, and their uncle Daemon had been banished from King's Landing.
There was no one left she could truly talk to.
Except for her dragon soaring through the sky, she often felt like a wandering ghost in the vast Red Keep—unheard, unseen, unloved.
Rhaenyra's fingers trembled as she held his fragile hand. "Thank the Stranger you're still here. Without you… I don't know who I'd have left."
"Don't think that way, sister."
Rhaegar shook his head. "Father didn't remove you as heir. That means he still loves you."
"The rumors outside don't just hurt you—they also strike at Father, who's been trying to protect you."
Rhaenyra lowered her head. "But I don't want to marry those vultures. They just want to feast on my flesh and blood."
"If you truly don't wish to, then maybe… I could talk to Father for you. Perhaps seeing how close we are, he might relent—at least for now."
Rhaegar's tone softened, his eyes gentle as he tried to comfort her.
"But…"
Rhaenyra hesitated, unable to voice her fears.
Rhaegar gave a bitter smile. "I know. Every time Father sees his sickly son, he remembers Mother… and blames himself."
"He avoids me—not because he doesn't care, but because he's terrified of losing me."
"But I am Rhaegar Targaryen. I belong to the sky and the sea. I can't be caged in the Red Keep forever."
His small face looked up at her, filled with fragile determination.
Listening to her brother's hopeful words, Rhaenyra's heart ached.
She too was trapped by Father's love, shackled by duty and power.
Without hesitation, she finally nodded. "Alright. Tomorrow I'll take you to see Father. He must fulfill his duty as a father."
A smile bloomed on Rhaegar's young face as he burrowed into his sister's embrace, rubbing against her chest like a spoiled child. "Sister, this is the birthday gift I wanted."
To hell with cakes and grand celebrations—What he longed for was simply a bit of warmth, a bit of love.
Nothing more.
Rhaenyra wrapped her arms around him, resting her chin on his bony shoulder, her eyes filled with helplessness and sorrow.
After a long silence, she whispered, "If only you had a healthy body…"
"Then you could meet everyone's expectations—and protect me."
"Before the Stranger takes me away, I'll stay with you, sister," Rhaegar murmured, breathing in her faint scent.
For this frail young boy, his world consisted only of his father, King Viserys, and his sister, Rhaenyra.
He didn't want either of them to get hurt.