The maids quietly attended to Viserys, helping him wash and change into the traditional white silk attire of the Targaryen Family.
Looking at the child's face in the mirror, still tender but already showing the distinct Targaryen features, Viserys took a deep breath, temporarily suppressing the grand plans swirling in his mind.
Now, he needed to play the role of "Prince Viserys," a perhaps spoiled, somewhat arrogant, ordinary royal scion.
But honestly, feudal society really was comfortable with maids serving you.
After breakfast, he pestered an official responsible for internal court affairs, using the excuse of wanting to see the glory of his ancestors, to visit the crypt where the dragon bones were stored.
This childish curiosity didn't arouse suspicion; after all, he was a prince, so what if he was a little willful?
Accompanied by several Red Keep guards, Viserys finally entered the place deep within The Red Keep where the dragon bones were kept.
A scent mixed with dust, mildew, and a certain ancient majesty assailed him. He involuntarily slowed his steps, his gaze sweeping across the dim space.
Although he was mentally prepared, seeing these legendary dragon bones with his own eyes still made his heart pound.
The enormous skeletons, illuminated by the faint light, resembled prehistoric beasts lurking in the shadows.
He walked towards the nearest skull, which should be the skull of Balerion the Black Dread.
It was originally supposed to be in the Throne Room, to display the Targaryen Family's power and glorious history, but Viserys I ordered it moved here, for the ridiculous reason that he feared visiting lords and nobles would be frightened.
It was quite speechless, and he was also Viserys; perhaps this was a destined arrangement, that he would once again bring people's fear of dragons to the continent of Westeros.
Looking at this skull, it was unimaginably large; its eye sockets alone were taller than his entire body, and its mouth could allow a carriage to pass through.
Viserys looked up, carefully examining this pale giant. He reached out to touch the dragon bone, and a warm sensation passed through his fingertips. Even in death, it felt warm; it seemed the dragons of this world truly were magical creatures.
But soon, he snapped out of his initial shock.
As a transmigrator who knew the plot, he clearly understood that these dragon bones had lost their vitality; they were merely past glory.
The real hope lay in the dragon eggs that might still exist in the world. However, although these dragon bones could not be revived, their value was still immeasurable.
Across The Narrow Sea in Essos, many people would still pay a high price for these dragon bones.
"A dead dragon is still a dragon," his lips curled slightly upward.
Standing among the numerous dragon bones, he began to calculate in his mind which parts were easiest to transport, which were most valuable, and how to discreetly move them out of The Red Keep.
The remains of these deceased giants would become one of his capitals for rising in this world.
"What's so interesting about these dark bones, Your Highness?" The accompanying official asked, seeing him stop.
Viserys tried to make his voice sound like simple childish babbling: "They look very... powerful. They once belonged to our dragons. If only we still had dragons..."
He appropriately displayed age-appropriate longing and disappointment. This performance successfully deceived the other party, who merely took it as a child's passing fancy.
In the afternoon, according to his "plan," he requested from his cheap father, The Mad King Aerys, to formally learn swordsmanship.
Unexpectedly, The Mad King did not object; instead, he seemed to think it was a good thing for a prince to be martial.
With a wave of his hand, he appointed "The Bold" Barristan Selmy, one of the Kingsguard, as Viserys's introductory swordsmanship instructor.
On the training grounds of The Red Keep, Barristan was a rigorous and patient teacher.
He first gave Viserys a small wooden sword, taught him how to hold it, and then emphasized footwork, balance, and basic parrying stances.
The initial training was much harder than he had imagined.
However, although he was still young, his strength and endurance were much greater than those of a normal child. Perhaps this was the "golden finger" brought by his transmigration?
After all, he had silently called out for a system and an old man many times before, but neither appeared.
It seemed he wasn't the kind of instantly gratifying protagonist, but an abnormal physical talent was also acceptable; he wasn't picky.
However, after a long time, it still became a bit overwhelming. Gradually, the wooden sword felt heavier and heavier in his hand, and each swing made the muscles in his arms and shoulders ache.
Barristan's demands were extremely strict. Viserys often had to repeat a simple lunge and chop dozens of times until the movement was standard and the force control was just right.
"A sword is not a stick, Your Highness. It is an extension of your arm, a manifestation of your will."
Barristan often personally corrected his subtle movement deviations, saying, "Your wrist must be steady, and your gaze must follow the sword tip. On the battlefield, a tiny mistake is enough to cost a life."
Sweat drenched his forehead, slid down his cheeks, and dripped onto the sand of the training ground.
Viserys gritted his teeth and persevered. He knew that this basic training was the foundation for him to master more advanced swordsmanship in the future, and even to learn two-handed swordsmanship later.
He was not only learning how to wield a sword but also honing his endurance and temperament.
During training breaks, he would also ask Barristan about the stories of other Kingsguard, especially Ser Arthur Dayne, known as the Sword of the Morning.
"Is Ser Arthur's swordsmanship really as legendary as they say? Can he defeat everyone?" Viserys asked, looking up, trying to fill his eyes with admiration.
Barristan, with a serious face, said, "Ser Arthur is one of the most outstanding swordsmen I have ever seen, Your Highness. His two-handed swordsmanship is unparalleled in the world."
At the same time, Barristan was secretly shocked by Viserys's talent and physical fitness, because he had been silently observing Viserys's progress, as he was a prince, and it was impossible to truly let him get hurt.
It turned out that only when he increased the training volume to that of a normal Red Keep soldier did Viserys feel a bit strained.
One must know that The Red Keep guards now were elites, not the mere fillers of a decade or so later.
After a day's training, he rested briefly. It wasn't until evening that Viserys met Arthur Dayne, the knight of great renown on the continent of Westeros.
His demeanor was calm and introverted, completely different from Barristan's upright solemnity.
Viserys used his status as a prince to initiate a conversation, expressing curiosity about Starfall and Dorne (especially his "goodwill" towards the Martell Family, as the Dayne Family of Starfall were vassals of the Martell Family), and admiration for this legendary knight.
This was to ensure a smoother time in Summerhall in the future, as it was located on the border of Dorne.
Arthur Dayne maintained a polite greeting, without much enthusiasm. Viserys knew that building connections couldn't be rushed; he needed to slowly close the distance.
Later, he mentioned his concern for Princess Elia Martell (the niece of Arthur's friend, Lewyn Martell), which seemed to slightly alter Arthur's attitude.
After all, he and Lewyn Martell were currently assigned to protect Rhaegar's family.
Besides the above actions, Viserys also used his status as a prince to carefully build his information channels.
In the morning, he deliberately befriended some slightly older squires, stable boys, and even kitchen helpers of middling background.
By rewarding them with a few silver stag, he heard many unofficial rumors circulating within The Red Keep—which noble was in debt again, or what peculiar habits a certain guard captain had.