A rich lunch was laid out across the heavy oak table, the steam rising in the quiet hall. Aegon watched as a maid moved toward him, spoon in hand, but he held up a palm to stop her. He was a prince, but he had the mind of a man who preferred to do things for himself.
He took a thick slice of fresh bread and began to build his own meal. He sliced a piece of steak—seared to a crisp brown on the outside but tender and pink within—and placed a fried egg on top. Finally, he spread a thick layer of sweet honey jam over the meat. He took a large bite, savoring the way the savory juices of the steak mixed with the sweetness of the honey.
In this world, there were no glowing screens or distant music to distract him. Delicious food, the thrill of soaring on dragonback, and the rhythm of the court dancers were his only escapes. He chewed slowly, enjoying the simple luxury of the Red Keep.
After swallowing his last bite, Aegon looked at his mother. "I am going to Dragonstone," he said plainly. "I will ride there after I finish my milk. I might stay for a few days. I'll go to Father now to ask for his leave."
Alicent's brow furrowed with worry. "What business do you have on that lonely rock, Aegon?"
"Just a small matter, Mother. Don't worry, there is no danger there." He drained his cup of milk and turned to his protector. "Ser Arryk, please go ahead by boat. I will follow on dragonback shortly."
The knight nodded. He did not ask questions; he simply bowed and left to prepare for the journey.
Alicent watched her son, a small sigh escaping her. When Aegon was a babe, he had been so open with her, but as he grew, he seemed to pull away into his own thoughts. He was too smart, too quiet, and he kept his secrets close to his chest.
"Be careful," she said at last. It was all she could really say. "And remember to see Helaena and Aemond before you depart."
Aegon nodded and made his way to the royal bedchambers. As soon as he pushed open the heavy door, a small, silver-haired figure rushed from beneath a table and tackled him.
"Did you miss me, my lovely Helaena?" Aegon laughed, scooping up his five-year-old sister.
Helaena didn't speak. She simply buried her face in his shoulder and held on tight. She was a strange, quiet girl who often seemed to see things others couldn't.
"What is it? Did you have another bad dream?" Aegon asked, patting her back gently. Helaena shook her head but didn't let go.
In the corner of the room, four-year-old Aemond jumped up, waving his hands. "I missed you! I did!"
Aegon gestured for the boy to come over and rubbed his hair playfully. In the history Aegon remembered, the original Prince Aegon had been a cruel brother. He had bullied Aemond and ignored Helaena, even after he was forced to marry her. He had let Rhaenyra's sons mock Aemond for not having a dragon, leading to a bitterness that eventually burned the realm.
But this Aegon was different. He knew the value of loyalty. He would never let his own blood be shamed by outsiders.
"Brother," Aemond whispered, his face falling. "My dragon egg... it still hasn't hatched. Rhaenyra told me this morning that it's a 'dead egg.' She said I'll never be a dragonrider."
Aegon's eyes turned cold for a second. He looked at his little brother's sad face. "Whether an egg hatches is a matter of luck, Aemond. It has nothing to do with you. Tell me... do you truly want a dragon?"
Aemond's eyes lit up. He nodded solemnly. "I want one more than anything. but Mother won't let me go to the Dragonpit alone, and she says the wild dragons on Dragonstone are too dangerous."
"I am going to the Dragonmount today," Aegon said, lowering his voice so the septas couldn't hear. "I know of a female dragon there. She is old, silver, and very wise. She is much larger and stronger than any hatchling."
Aemond gasped. "Take me! I want to go!"
"Wait here," Aegon commanded. "I must get Father's permission first."
Aegon found King Viserys in his solar, hunched over a massive, detailed model of the Valyrian Freehold. The King was carefully gluing a tiny stone tower into place.
"Father, I wish to fly to Dragonstone," Aegon said.
Viserys didn't look up, his brow sweating from the effort of his hobby. Ever since Aegon had snuck off and flown all the way to the Wall at the age of five, the King had been terrified of his son's wanderlust. He had even ordered the Dragonkeepers to never let the boy fly without royal word.
"Dragonstone?" Viserys grunted, putting down his tools. "Why? Your sister's wedding is only a month away. I won't have you running off and getting lost. You are to stay here."
Aegon sighed. "I will only be gone for a week, perhaps two. I just wish to see the volcanoes."
"There is nothing on Dragonstone but bare rock and sulfur," Viserys said, pointing a finger at him. "I know your tricks, Aegon. Last time you said you were going for a short flight and ended up at the edge of the world. You are not allowed to go!"
Viserys looked at his son with a mixture of love and fear. He thought of the "Song of Ice and Fire," the secret prophecy of the Long Night that he had told Rhaenyra. He feared the cold darkness of the North, and he feared his son's curiosity would lead him right into it. But since Aegon was not the heir, he could not tell him the truth. He could only forbid him from leaving.