Game of Thrones: I Am The Heir For A Day - Chapter 203: Shocking Bad News

The next day.

Morning sunlight streamed into the bedroom, casting a soft glow.

Rhaenyra sat on the balcony, wrapped in a loose nightgown. She held a steaming cup of tea, gazing serenely at the scene outside. The weather in King’s Landing was exceptionally clear after the heavy rain, the garden alive with swaying fish beams and chirping birds.

Turning back, she saw Rhaegar sleeping soundly on the carpet, a small white ball nestled on his chest. A tender smile graced her lips as she sipped her tea, unaware of the troubled expression creasing his brow.

Rhaegar was trapped in a vivid dream.

Dark clouds swirled and a fierce wind drove sheets of rain. The sky was darkened, plunging the world into chaos. A sharp dragon roar pierced the air as a young, green-scaled dragon emerged from the storm, wings flapping wildly.

On the dragon’s back was a small saddle occupied by a young boy, perhaps seven or eight years old. Rhaegar’s vision zoomed in, drawn by an inexplicable urgency.

The boy had short, silver-blonde hair, pale purple eyes, and a face that was both handsome and childlike. Recognition struck Rhaegar; the boy looked almost exactly like he had at that age. The resemblance was uncanny, a near mirror image of his childhood self.

Compelled to understand, Rhaegar’s attention fixed on the boy.

In the midst of the storm, the boy bravely faced the elements. His short hair whipped about, his clothes soaked, the rain stinging his face. He struggled to keep his eyes open against the deluge.

“Run!” the boy cried, wiping the rain from his face. He seemed to call the young dragon by name, but the sound was lost to Rhaegar.

The young dragon roared in panic, battling the torrential rain as it flew.

Rumble…

After a flash of lightning and a roar of thunder, a huge shadow loomed over the boy and his dragon. The shadow, many times larger than the young dragon, completely enveloped them.

The boy noticed the huge shadow above them, and his face turned pale with fear. He urged the young dragon to fly faster.

Suddenly, a jagged reef appeared ahead. The boy skillfully steered the dragon into the reef, avoiding the giant pursuer.

Moments later, the young dragon emerged from the reef. The sky cleared, the wind and rain stopped, and thin clouds drifted by.

The young dragon soared above the clouds, having finally lost his pursuer.

The boy sighed with relief, a triumphant smile spreading across his face.

But then…

“ROAR!!!”

A deafening dragon roar echoed as a colossal green dragon burst from beneath the clouds. It grabbed the young dragon’s neck in its jaws and crushed it with a sickening crunch.

The young dragon uttered one last agonized scream before his headless body plummeted through the clouds and into the sea.

The boy, chained to the dragon, fell beside it.

“No!”

Rhaegar’s heart pounded as he cried out, his voice breaking the dream’s fragile hold.

The dreamscape began to collapse. Rhaegar tried desperately to hold on to it, but it slipped away.

As the [Dream Vision] faded, he caught a last glimpse of the green dragon. Its body was massive and powerful, its scales thick and impenetrable. On its back sat a silver-haired man, his face obscured, but his wild laughter echoing in Rhaegar’s ears.

Then the dream shattered.

Rhaegar jerked awake, his eyes snapping open.

“Rhaegar, you’re awake?”

Rhaenyra’s voice reached him instantly.

“Rhaenyra…” Rhaegar turned to face her, a hint of panic in his eyes. He vividly remembered the dream, the boy who looked so much like him meeting a tragic end.

“Shh! She’s still sleeping, don’t wake her,” Rhaenyra whispered, pointing to his chest.

Rhaegar looked down.

Helaena was curled up on his chest, sound asleep.

“I had a nightmare again,” Rhaegar murmured, carefully sitting up while holding Helaena.

Helaena stirred slightly, her face flushed and her lips moving in a sleepy murmur.

Rhaenyra knelt beside him, concern in her eyes. “What dream did you have? You’re drenched in sweat.”

“Yes…” Rhaegar began, but hesitated. He looked at Rhaenyra, her eyes warm and attentive as she gently wiped away his sweat.

“Nothing, just a nightmare, something like Maegor’s kinslaying,” Rhaegar said vaguely, holding Helaena close as he slowly got to his feet. He didn’t want to share the gruesome details of his dream.

“Never mind, you can tell me when you’re ready,” Rhaenyra said softly, not pushing him any further.

Rhaegar often had nightmares, many of which he kept to himself.

He smiled apologetically, his heart still pounding. He laid Helaena gently on the bed and covered her with a blanket.

“Let’s get going. We have to meet the Dornish envoy today,” Rhaenyra reminded him, opening the wardrobe and pulling out one of Rhaegar’s usual outfits.

Rhaegar hugged her from behind. “Aren’t you coming with me?”

“Where?” Rhaenyra gave him an annoyed look, holding up the red strapless dress she had hastily discarded the night before.

Rhaegar grinned sheepishly, feeling a mixture of embarrassment and amusement.

…

The sun was just rising.

Rhaegar had barely finished dressing when a frantic knock came at the door.

“Prince, something big has happened!”

Erryk’s urgent voice called out, “The ravens have brought dire news—the Stepstones Islands have fallen!”

“What!?”

Rhaegar exclaimed in shock, throwing open the door.

Erryk stood there, his expression grave. “The Stepstones Islands are in chaos. Lord Corlys is seriously injured. The King has summoned you to an emergency council meeting.”

“Hurry!” Rhaegar shouted, clenching his fists as he rushed out the door.

His mind raced with questions. How could this have happened? Was the Sea Snake losing his mind? He had only been away for a day and a night, and already everything had gone wrong.

Rhaegar sprinted to the council chamber.

Erryk opened the door for him, and Rhaegar stepped inside.

The room was full of people—King Viserys, Lyonel Strong, Otto Hightower, and several other lords. Seated among them was Jeyne Arryn.

Though she had changed into a simple dress and her long chestnut hair was tied up in a braid, her eyes were red and swollen from crying.

Rhaegar ignored the scene and asked urgently, “Lords, what exactly has happened?”

The Battle of the Stepstones had been ongoing for a long time and had stabilized for a month. How could it have suddenly turned into a disaster?

“Rhaegar, sit down first. We are still discussing the situation,” Viserys said gravely, gripping a cup tightly.

Rhaegar scanned the room, took his seat, and placed the stone marker from the tray in front of him.

Jeyne, seated next to him, gave him a small, reassuring smile.

Lyonel Strong stood first, holding a letter. “Last night, Lord Tyland Lannister, in conjunction with Vaemond Velaryon, Medrick Manderly, and Ser Criston Cole, conspired to raid the Triarchy pirate stronghold.”

“It was an ambush. The Triarchy pirates had set a trap for them.”

“Lord Corlys tried to stop them but ultimately had to lead his troops in support.”

Lyonel’s face grew grim as he continued, “Our warships lost more than half their number, and seven thousand soldiers were killed. Medrick Manderly died, and Corlys Velaryon was gravely injured and is now unconscious.”

To make matters worse, Bloodstone Island’s defenses collapsed, allowing the Triarchy pirates to plunder it. The remaining forces have retreated to Grey Gallows and are trying to hold the line.

The chamber fell silent.

The loss of ships and soldiers was devastating, but the potential death of Sea Snake, the navy’s commander, left the forces leaderless.

Viserys slammed his fist on the table, shouting angrily, “Where are the dragons? There were supposed to be two dragons at the Stepstones!”

“Your Grace, please remain calm,” Lyonel urged. “According to the reports, the night was too dark, and the Triarchy pirates had prepared a large number of scorpion crossbows.

Princess Rhaenys and her son, Ser Laenor, were heavily constrained, making it difficult for the dragons to be effective.”

From the letter, it was clear that if not for the dragons destroying more than a dozen pirate ships and breaking the encirclement, Tyland and the Sea Snake might have been killed.

“Foolishness! Sheer idiocy!” Viserys roared. “Tyland dared to mobilize the army without authorization—this is a capital offense against military rules!”

To mobilize the army without orders was tantamount to rebellion. What infuriated Viserys even more was that Vaemond and the others had recklessly followed Tyland’s lead.

Grand Maester Mellos spoke slowly, “Your Grace, the situation at the Stepstones is critical. We must devise a strategy to deal with it.”

“I know that!” Viserys snapped, his voice echoing in the hall. He turned to Lyonel, “Dismiss Tyland from his post as Master of Ships and summon him back to King’s Landing for judgment!”

Viserys seethed with anger at the Lannister’s incompetence. He had hoped Tyland would prove wiser than his arrogant brother, but he had nearly brought the kingdom to ruin.

“Father, please calm yourself,” Rhaegar interjected, rubbing his face in frustration. “Lord Lyonel, how many troops do we have left?”

The damage was done, and they couldn’t change the past. They needed to address the crisis at hand before seeking retribution.

Lyonel answered, “According to the reports, only remnants of the fleets from the Crownlands, House Velaryon, and House Manderly of White Harbor remain.”

“The fleets from Oldtown, Arbor Island, and Gulltown retain some strength, with a combined total of fifty ships and three thousand eight hundred soldiers.”

Rhaegar pressed further, “How are our supplies?”

Lyonel sighed heavily, “There is little left after the Triarchy pirates’ plunder.

The pirates had stripped the lands bare, leaving nothing but devastation in their wake.

Rhaegar closed his eyes, his mind racing. They faced a dire situation – limited troops, dwindling supplies, and the ever-present threat of the Triarchy.

After a few moments, he opened his eyes and addressed the council, “Lords, we must redeploy our remaining forces and transport supplies to the Stepstones. We cannot afford to lose this war.”

Turning to Lyonel, he asked, “How many more soldiers can we muster from the Crownlands and the Riverlands?”

Those regions were closest to King’s Landing, and reinforcements and supplies could be transported quickly.