In a medieval world with a touch of magic, where basic forensics hadn't even been invented, and no one could tell the difference between someone burned alive and a corpse that had been burned, Viserys felt he could do as he pleased. Killing The Mountain was undoubtedly another small step towards reversing the downfall of House Targaryen, but it boosted his confidence and solidified his unwavering determination to achieve his dream: his brother would ascend the throne, and Westeros would be centralized under his rule. The power-hungry dukes, the throne of Dorne, and even the Night King and the Others would all be swept into the dustbin of history!
Now, the resourceful Petyr Baelish was temporarily under his command. Viserys was pleased with his quick thinking in helping to murder The Mountain's group, especially how he'd doused them with oil. He didn't even have to order it; Petyr had taken the initiative that night, burning their blood-soaked clothes, shoes, and gloves in the hearth, proving he was cautious.
Petyr, after that exhilarating night, what science would call an adrenaline rush, found that his grief over the loss of Catelyn didn't seem so intense.
Yes, he had killed a man, seen a true dragon, and a brand new future he had never even imagined was now before him, a path to success and glory. He had no time to drown his sorrows; he was focused on preparing to leave Riverrun. Therefore, Lysa, who had been secretly in love with him, never found the opportunity to pretend to be her sister and sleep with him.
Lysa's hand clutched her chest tightly, her crystal-clear eyes gazing at the boy with grey-green eyes as he walked towards her father and brother. He knelt on one knee and apologized sincerely – saying that he had acted impulsively and caused Catelyn trouble, that he had no face to stay in Riverrun any longer, and now planned to go to King's Landing to take up a position under the Crown Prince.
Lord Hoster Tully was satisfied and even more amiable after hearing that he would serve the Crown Prince in the future. He gifted him gold dragons and servants, telling him that he would always be a part of House Tully.
A hint of sarcasm flashed in the grey-green eyes. But Petyr remained composed, declaring he wouldn't say goodbye to Catelyn. He walked over to Edmure and embraced him, then approached the trembling Lysa, reaching out to gently stroke her auburn hair. Afterward, he gave her a brooch pendant.
He looked at the girl, who was beside herself with excitement, and gave a faint smile, "Farewell, Lysa."
Turning, he left her a bright and dashing silhouette, one that would shine in the young woman's memory for years to come.
—Viserys had told him to maintain his relationship with Lysa, regardless of whether she married, or whom she married. As long as she loved him, she could provide them with many conveniences in the future. He nonchalantly revealed Petyr's own secret plans, considering it perfectly natural. Petyr even entertained the crazy notion that he and the prince were kindred spirits.
No. The silver-haired prince, with his exquisitely beautiful face, the ferocity and ruthlessness in his eyes in the firelight, made Petyr realize what would happen if he offended him. He had inquired, and Gregor had been the one who injured him in the tavern brawl a few days ago. Crown Prince Rhaegar had already given him justice through trial by combat, but the young prince had decided to eliminate the problem completely, leaving no room for future trouble.
Mature and ruthless. It was clearly a glass of Tears of Lys, a poison, yet he presented it as blood orange juice—
Viserys raised the glass, and drank the blood orange juice, seeing Petyr staring at him. "Do you want some?"
He immediately declined.
"Alright." The young prince moistened his throat. "Now, I will officially tell you about the King's Landing properties under my and my brother's names. We have taverns and inns. Hmm, I plan for you to be in charge of producing ale, which we will sell in these establishments. Eventually, we will monopolize the entire King's Landing ale market." The young prince confidently laid out the specifics. "Some of the counts around King's Landing will begin to expand their barley cultivation. My brother will purchase the harvest in the name of the kingdom, hoarding enough grain. Then, the old grain from last year and the surplus will be handed over to you for brewing. According to the new steps I've outlined, of course."
The processing of the current, piss-like, inferior ale could be improved compared to modern beer processing techniques.
——It's not brewed with barley. Instead, you add water to the barley and keep it warm to encourage germination. Then, you use barley malt, heat it with water, and crush it to complete the saccharification. The barley malt water, rich in hydrolytic enzymes, is boiled, precipitated, and cooled before being combined with brewing yeast. A new, high-quality ale with a unique taste will be born.
"Remember the prices. Sell it for twenty times the cost in the high-class brothels of Silk Street. In places where nobles gather, like parties, charge at least ten times the current price. You can water down the product for ordinary taverns, and the price is up to you. I expect good results from you. The accounts must be clear. Also, every seven days, you get thirty percent of the day's profits."
Littlefinger knelt, grabbing the Crown Prince's hem and swearing again – not for money, which startled him.
"Let's talk money. Those who follow the Targaryens will not suffer in terms of wealth or status," Viserys said.
By now, Petyr was completely in awe of the Targaryen family and their dragons. He was decisive and generous, unafraid of fire. The Targaryens came from beyond this continent; their bloodline was truly divine! Or at least, demigods descended!
In the empty, quiet Godswood, the Targaryen brothers were once again together. Viserys lay in his brother's arms, silver hair flowing across his arm. The Crown Prince noticed his brother's sleeve had slipped, revealing his wrist, still bound with his lock of hair. He felt a surge of sweet joy.
They were about to part again. The Crown Prince would soon head south, back to King's Landing, while Viserys would brave the snow and journey to the North. He said to his brother again, "I will continue to write letters, sending them to King's Landing by raven. My brother, what I see, you also see!"
雷加 reread the letters he had already written many times. Besides the scenery and local customs along the way, he admired his brother's keenness: the ideas of establishing "special supply bases for food and meat" around King's Landing and setting up academies would undoubtedly further consolidate the long-term stability of the royal domain. And his brother's criticism of the dukes, earls, and nobles of the Seven Kingdoms showed 雷加 his thoughts even more clearly - when he read his brother's suggestion to develop a special troop to cut off horse legs to counter heavy cavalry, and to take advantage of the many rivers in the Riverlands... Viserys, his beloved brother, 雷加 understood exactly what he was thinking.
It was just that such actions would inevitably lead to war and chaos. 雷加 sighed. The ordinary farmers in the Seven Kingdoms, who put down their hoes and knew nothing but to follow their noble lords to war, were so innocent - and Viserys didn't realize this. Or, didn't care.
雷加 told himself that his brother was still young and that when he grew up, he would be like Queen Alysanne, listening to the suffering and loved by the people. He longed for a united and stable Westeros... He would do his utmost to achieve this through peaceful means.
The early winter sunlight filtered through the branches of the Godswood, softly falling on the two brothers. 雷加 suppressed the sorrow of their impending separation and urged his brother to protect himself, draping the ermine-fur cloak over his shoulders - which was now too long.
Viserys didn't want to take the coat with his brother's warmth, but it was too ridiculous to wear it like that. He lowered his head and rubbed against his brother, then returned it and hugged him tightly. "Brother, don't worry, I have a coat, I'm not cold. As for you, Brother, when you return to King's Landing, try not to have a direct conflict with Father. In fact, Father is very easy to fool. You just need to grasp his mindset: that royal power is above all else and that the Targaryens are descendants of gods. Say something that pleases him..."
His voice trailed off because 雷加 couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. He was reflecting on whether he had said too much. His brother sighed softly, and his warm fingers stroked his temples. "My Viserys, I really want you to live a happy and carefree life - perhaps it's my fault. I was too compromising with Father and not strong enough, which forced you... to grow up like this, instead, to protect me. I'm sorry."
雷加's breath brushed against Viserys's face, and the subtle fragrance of dragon's breath grass in King's Landing intoxicated him - his brother's forehead touched his. Skin touching skin, how magical, he was even more numb.
The voice that came from his ear was clear and gentle.
"I swear, for the rest of my life, I will not let you worry about the struggles in the Red Keep Throne Room again. I have a clear goal, and I will achieve it step by step, Viserys. I will cherish you and protect you with all my life, until death do us part."
Viserys was dazed and thrilled to hear this. He thought his brother was finally going to make a move and restrain the Mad King—how wonderful! He nuzzled his brother's face affectionately and declared, "Everything of mine also belongs to you, dear brother. Because of you, I have always lived happily."
The two brothers confessed their intimate feelings to each other, and then, they accepted their separation in this early winter.
It was just that when the Crown Prince left Riverrun, leading his troops south along the Kingsroad, he couldn't help but look back—he could no longer see his brother. Rhaegar was lost in thought, touching the hair braid ring on his wrist, silently praying to the Seven Gods to keep his beloved brother safe and have him return soon.
And the Seven Gods apparently only heard the half about safety. Fate was unpredictable, and when the little prince finally stood before him again, King's Landing had already gone through four summers of different lengths.
Lord Rickard Stark and Brandon set off to return to the North after the jousting tournament, leaving Ned to accompany Viserys and Robert, who needed some time to rest and recover.
Ned wasn't as handsome and tall as his brother, but he inherited the family's long face and gray eyes. He was introverted and behaved in a rigid manner, but Robert, a low-IQ brute, quite liked spending time with him.
Ned didn't know the Crown Prince was sizing him up and secretly fretting. He imagined what Lyanna would look like with a face like that. Wouldn't she have a horse face?
His perfect brother and a horse-faced beauty?… That means his brother loves the soul and the inner self! Noble! And a world apart from Robert, who is obsessed with outer appearances!
Snowflakes continued to fall from the sky, and they finally set off again as the river began to freeze. Viserys put on his sable overcoat, equipped with fur boots and deerskin gloves. The sadness of being separated from his brother lingered in his heart, and his face was as gloomy as the sky about to unleash a blizzard as they journeyed along the Red Fork and passed the Trident.
He couldn't swallow his anger without dealing with Robert Baratheon. So, he pretended to be a dutiful page and told Robert that he would start cleaning his armor and hammer for him tonight.
He was carrying a bottle of acidic liquid. Under the current conditions, it could achieve dramatic fluctuations in temperature—the metal would become brittle and corrode bit by bit.
"Really? Excellent," Robert, oblivious to Viserys's hatred, wrapped himself tightly in a deerskin cloak trimmed with silver fox fur. "We need to hurry, Ned. Is there a castle nearby that can shelter us from the snowstorm?"
When he heard that they had to reach Castle Darry nearby because the snowstorm was getting worse, Viserys remembered that there was a Kingsguard knight with his father now, Jon Darry, who was from their family! It seemed like there was someone else important… Anyway, the Darry family was indeed a loyal vassal of House Targaryen in the Riverlands. Later, when the usurper Robert went north to ask Ned to serve as Hand of the King, the Darry family still secretly preserved a tapestry depicting the portraits of the Targaryen kings, reminiscing about the past… How could he not help such a family?
The Darry family's residence was called Castle Darry, small and simple. Their sigil was a farmer ploughing the land. Lord Raymun Darry, a warm-hearted man, led his cousin Willem Darry to warmly welcome them.
Viserys slapped his forehead. He remembered! Ser Willem Darry! In the original world, it was him who fled with the Queen and Viserys to Dragonstone when Rhaegar died and King's Landing was about to fall. After the Queen died, he took the two orphaned children and fled to Braavos! Unfortunately, he died early due to illness. Otherwise... if the original Viserys had been raised by him, learning swordsmanship, his personality and life might have been different.
Therefore, in Viserys's heart, Ser Darry had become a man more worthy of respect than the Mad King. How could his family – how could most of the male heirs die on the banks of the Trident? How could they all be slaughtered by Gregor?
With the intention of finding a future governor for the Riverlands, he enthusiastically took the initiative to chat with Ser Darry and his family after the banquet. He learned that their land was mostly used to grow barley, and the Riverlands had fertile soil and good harvests.
"Do you brew ale at home? Robert drank a whole barrel of the ale served at the banquet today."
Ser Darry nodded. At this time, every noble castle basically had a brewer, following the same traditional process, brewing ale that was not much different, and in Viserys's opinion, equally unpalatable, that is, primitive and inferior beer.
"I read about ancient Valyrian brewing methods in a book. I'll write it down for you to try. Don't spread it around."
Anyway, the technology didn't belong to this world, so he attributed it all to the Valyrian civilization. Out of gratitude and to repay his kindness, Viserys was willing to give the Darry family the key to brewing new wine and getting rich.
Then, he told the knight that the ale brewed according to this malt fermentation method, when Robert returned from the North to the Stormlands and passed through here, he must be invited to drink it. If he liked it and wanted to buy it, remember to sell it to him at thirty times the price.
This… was a bit much for the upright knight to take in.
Viserys immediately said, "It's to teach Robert some restraint, to stop him from drinking so much."
The knight nodded, understanding.
Restraint, my ass. Viserys didn't just want him to get a beer belly and suffer from gout; he also wanted to drain Storm's End's coffers. After all, Robert loved wine, and fine wine was priceless. He even wanted to dig a wine cellar!
After bidding farewell to the knight, Viserys returned to the hall. He found that Robert, having drunk too much of the cheap swill, had already been helped back to his guest room by the servants. Only the grey-eyed Ned was still sitting there. "Your Grace," he greeted, "Castle Darry's guest rooms only have two sets. Please, will you stay in my room tonight?"
"Thank you." Viserys casually asked, "Did Robert drag the cook to warm his bed again? I know everything – he's repeated it countless times on the road."