GOT King of Dragon

Rhaegar interrupted his explanation, frustrated: 

"All because of some rumors, my father put me under house arrest. Isn't that a bit much?" 

"Rumors can hurt people deeply. The things being said at the time were far from pleasant. His Majesty just didn't want you to get caught up in trouble," Elric explained earnestly. 

Rhaegar sneered, "He's just afraid someone will feed me dangerous ideas." 

Consider the current nickname he'd been given: 

"The Sleeping Hatchling." 

"Sleeping" referred to his frail and sickly condition in the past, while "hatchling" carried connotations of youth and potential fragility. 

So, what's the first thing a sleeping hatchling does upon waking up? 

Naturally, it devours everything in sight, growing into a true dragon. 

And by then, what kind of nickname would suit it? 

"The Awakened True Dragon" or "The Roaring Wrathful Dragon"? 

This nickname had been deliberately spread by certain schemers who wanted to stir up unrest by drawing attention to Rhaegar's status as the king's eldest son. 

"Well, 'Sleeping Hatchling' is still better than 'Dead Hatchling,'" Rhaegar consoled himself. Then, looking directly at Elric, he gave an order: "Make sure his wages are paid in full, and from now on, let me know immediately about any rumors concerning me." 

"Understood!" 

Elric's expression turned serious as he accepted the command. 

"Let's go. Take me to buy some children's toys, and then we'll head to the Dragonpit." 

Rhaegar turned and got into the carriage, his already sour mood worsening. 

… 

The carriage paused briefly on Silk Street, where Elric darted from shop to shop, purchasing a pile of toys. 

He loaded them all into the carriage before they headed toward the Dragonpit. 

The Dragonpit was built into a mountainside and was far quieter than the bustling city streets. 

Since this visit was unplanned, no one came out to greet them at the gate—only two armored guards stood watch. 

When they saw the royal carriage approach, one guard jogged forward to ask, "Which noble is visiting today?" 

"Rhaegar Targaryen, eldest son of Viserys I!" 

Elric announced Rhaegar's identity as he stepped down from the carriage alone. 

Though the guards didn't see the prince himself, the sight of a White Knight's cloak was enough for them to bow respectfully and open the gates. 

The Dragonpit was vast, with numerous entrances. 

In addition to the main gate, there were mountainside caves, cliffside platforms, and other areas designed to accommodate dragons. 

The carriage remained outside under the guards' watch. 

Rhaegar chose to enter on foot, walking through an enormous open field reminiscent of a military training ground. 

At the far end of the field stood a tall, grand, domed building. 

Before he got far, a group of scholars and dragonkeepers managing the Dragonpit hurried over. 

Dragonkeepers, or dragon trainers, were mostly descendants of Valyria, sworn for generations to serve House Targaryen. 

They were fluent in High Valyrian, capable of soothing dragons' tempers to some extent, and took care of their feeding and maintenance. 

"Greetings, Your Highness!" 

The group bowed in unison. 

"Rise. I didn't mean to intrude—I just wanted to see what the Dragonpit looks like." 

Rhaegar waved off formalities, getting straight to the point. 

"As you wish. Scholar Bath is not here today, so I'll be your guide." 

A young scholar with black hair, dark eyes, and a sallow complexion stepped forward to volunteer. 

"What's your name?" 

Out of basic courtesy, Rhaegar asked politely. 

"Meinas Waters, Your Highness." 

The young scholar gave a shy smile and spoke softly. 

"Waters?" 

Rhaegar was momentarily taken aback, recalling that it was the surname used by bastards in the Crownlands. 

On the continent of Westeros, bastards in each region were given distinct surnames: 

In the North, they were called Snow. 

In the Crownlands, they were called Waters. 

Rhaegar looked Meinas over, noting his plain clothing, some of which was even patched. 

It seemed he wasn't doing particularly well. 

Not surprising—bastards were rarely favored. 

Even an educated bastard like Meinas would struggle to find acceptance among scholars. 

Feeling Rhaegar's gaze, Meinas's expression shifted slightly, and a wave of insecurity washed over him. He clenched his teeth, the familiar sting of being judged as a bastard rising once more. 

"Just endure it, and it will pass."

"Lift your head. Your parents gave you a face that's not too bad—don't be afraid to use it," Rhaegar suddenly said. 

Menace obediently lifted his head, managing his facial expression perfectly to display a humble smile. 

"I won't tell you to ignore your origins because the world will make sure you never forget them," Rhaegar continued. 

"But you have your own talents. Not everyone can become a scholar. Don't underestimate yourself." 

Seeing through Menace's self-doubt regarding his background, Rhaegar offered a few encouraging words and said no more. 

The circumstances of one's birth can shape an entire life. 

This was a wound Rhaegar couldn't heal for him. 

Thankfully, his mother had fought to bring him into this world and left him with plenty of honor. 

"Thank you, Mother!" 

Silently praying for his late mother, Rhaegar gestured for Menace to lead the way. 

If sadness was to be expressed, it should be done alone at night, under the covers. For now, he had to act as a guide. There was no room for personal emotions during work hours. 

As they walked, Rhaegar asked, "How many dragons are currently in the dragon pit?" 

"Three in total: Dreamfyre, Caraxes, and Syrax," Menace answered promptly, his earlier melancholy now completely concealed. 

"Take me to see them. I've never been up close to a dragon before," Rhaegar said with interest. 

"I'm afraid that won't be possible, Your Grace." 

Rhaegar frowned in confusion. "Why not? Do dragons reject strangers?" 

"That's not the reason. Just before you arrived, Princess Rhaenyra and Prince Daemon got here ahead of you. They're preparing to go dragon riding." 

Menace spoke honestly. 

"Rhaenyra is here? Take me to her quickly—I have to see the dragons!" 

Hearing that his sister was there, Rhaegar's eyes lit up with excitement, hoping he could convince her to take him for a ride on a dragon. 

"Very well. The princess hasn't been here long. If we go now, we should make it in time," Menace calculated and agreed. 

"Then what are we waiting for? Let's go!" 

Rhaegar urged Menace to lead the way, and the group entered the dragon pit, heading for the open platform midway up the cave. 

--- 

After hurrying along, Rhaegar finally reached the high platform, panting heavily. 

He arrived just in time to see several dragonkeepers calming Syrax as they unlocked the shackles around her feet. 

Nearby, the crimson Caraxes was already prepared. 

Daemon and Rhaenyra stood between the two dragons, chatting in their riding gear. 

"Sister!" 

Rhaegar called out loudly, ignoring Menace's attempt to stop him, and excitedly ran toward Rhaenyra. 

Hearing his voice, Rhaenyra turned around in surprise. "Rhaegar? What are you doing in the dragon pit?" 

Rhaegar approached and confidently took his sister's hand. "Didn't I tell you last night? I dreamed that something was wrong in the dragon pit, so I came to check it out." 

"I didn't expect to hear you were here as soon as I arrived. I thought you'd be watching the tourney." 

Rhaenyra chuckled at him and teased, "So, did you come to find me, or did you come to see the dragons?" 

"Of course, I came for you. The dragons come after you," Rhaegar said earnestly, though his eyes couldn't help but dart excitedly between the two dragons. 

"This golden one must be Syrax. She's as beautiful as you are." 

Compared to the long and fierce-looking Caraxes, Rhaegar seemed to prefer the balanced and elegant Syrax, eagerly offering praise. 

"Syrax is named after the goddess of harvest, so of course she's beautiful," Rhaenyra said knowingly, crossing her arms as she eyed him playfully. 

"So, my dear brother, now that you've seen them, is there something else you want?" 

*(End of Chapter)*