GOT King of Dragon

"Relax, I'm coming out now!"

After careful consideration, Rhaegar decided it was safer to comply and stay honest. 

He put the dagger back into his space bracelet, raised his hands, and slowly walked out of the cave.

As soon as he stepped outside, he was greeted by the sight of a drawn bow aimed directly at him.

Startled, Rhaegar took a step back.

"A kid?"

The archer was a teenage girl dressed in leather skirts and a fur jacket. She stared at Rhaegar suspiciously.

Seeing her attire, Rhaegar felt a chill run down his spine.

The girl in the leather skirt didn't lower her bow. Instead, she took a cautious step forward and asked warily, "Is there anyone else in the cave? Tell them to come out!"

Rhaegar stood still, afraid to move recklessly. He replied honestly, "There's no need to shout. I'm the only one here."

"That's nonsense! How could a kid like you possibly make it through the swamp and jungle alone?"

The girl in the leather skirt cursed, her sharp eyes scanning Rhaegar from head to toe.

In that moment, Rhaegar understood. 

She must have assumed, based on his clothes, that he was some noble family's child.

After a brief pause, he carefully asked, "Are you... from a tribe?"

He chose his words delicately, avoiding the term "savage."

The so-called "savages" were what people called the free folk who refused to submit to the rule of local lords. They were considered unruly, wild, and uncivilized brutes.

That was how the scholar who taught him had described them.

The girl ignored his question and continued to focus on the cave's entrance.

Two young boys soon emerged from behind her. They wore clothes made of animal hide and carried bone axes and shovels in their hands. 

Each of them grabbed one of Rhaegar's arms and dragged him aside.

"Take it easy. You don't need to be so rough," Rhaegar protested, wincing from the pain.

One of the boys looked about ten years old, thin and frail. The other was older, with dark skin and a robust build. 

Neither paid any attention to Rhaegar's complaints. Their eyes were fixed intently on the girl in the leather skirt, waiting for her next move.

It turned out Rhaegar was telling the truth.

The girl slipped to the cave's entrance, loosed an arrow, and sent it flying into the hard rock wall with a loud *thunk*. 

She surveyed the area. The cave was completely empty—there wasn't even a rat, let alone a person.

The tense atmosphere eased slightly. The girl let out a quiet sigh of relief, retrieved her arrow, and motioned for the boys to bring Rhaegar into the cave.

The thin boy tied Rhaegar up with some rough rope and tossed him into a corner of the cave. 

Rhaegar shifted uncomfortably, trying to avoid the dusty cobwebs.

The girl walked up to him, grabbed his chin, and demanded fiercely, "Who are you? What family are you from? Where are the adults?"

Her grip hurt, and Rhaegar glared at her in annoyance.

"Still daring to glare at me? If you don't start talking, you'll regret it!" she threatened, tightening her grip.

Having interacted with them for a bit, Rhaegar felt more confident now. 

He scrutinized the girl with a few glances. She had brown curly hair, a high nose bridge, and well-defined features—a very capable-looking young woman.

But none of that mattered to Rhaegar.

He only cared about two things: the girl's smooth, wheat-colored skin and the blisters on her knuckles.

Rhaegar's eyes glinted as he spoke. "You're not savages, are you?"

The girl's expression shifted slightly. In a cold voice, she replied, "I'm the one asking the questions here. Stop changing the subject."

"That boy over there is your younger brother. Neither of you are savages," Rhaegar continued, his tone confident.

The girl's subtle change in attitude made Rhaegar even more certain of his guess.

Under her suspicious gaze, Rhaegar began to elaborate. "Savages grow up surviving in the wild. They don't have smooth skin, and they certainly can't afford to raise a sickly child."

He glanced pointedly at the thin boy as he spoke.

As someone who had long dealt with frail health, Rhaegar was sensitive to physical conditions. He could tell at a glance that the boy's poor health wasn't something a savage family could manage. 

In fact, savages couldn't even afford to keep a child with a weak constitution alive.

The girl's face darkened. She released Rhaegar's chin and said curtly, "So what? You might be clever, but cleverness won't save your life."

"Tell me who you are, or I won't hesitate to deal with you."

"No, no, no! I'm only six years old. Mistreating a child is unacceptable anywhere," Rhaegar shook his head repeatedly and suggested, "Untie me, and let's have an honest conversation. Who knows? Maybe I can help you."

He emphasized his point by adding, "I know many scholars who are experts in herbal medicine. They could help your brother with his illness."

"My brother isn't sick!" the girl scoffed dismissively.

Rhaegar wasn't convinced. "His face is pale—he doesn't look like someone who's healthy."

--- 

"Stop talking, or I'll hit you!" the girl threatened, raising her fist.

Rhaegar immediately behaved himself and gave an awkward smile.

When under someone else's roof, you have to bow your head. He didn't want to suffer any physical pain.

Considering Rhaegar's small and frail appearance, the girl thought for a moment before untying the straw rope binding him.

"Sister, he looks like a noble child…" the frail boy whispered.

"No kidding. Look at his clothes—they scream 'noble' from a mile away," the sturdy boy retorted.

The frail boy closed his mouth sulkily and crouched at the side, silently observing.

The girl shot the sturdy boy a glare and said sternly, "Tessen, go find Uncle Falcon and the others. Tormund and I will interrogate him."

"But…"

The boy named Tessen looked reluctant but quickly obeyed after meeting the girl's dangerous glare. He shuffled out of the cave hesitantly.

With one person gone, the girl's expression softened a little. She said calmly, "My name is Baolan, and this is my younger brother Tormund. We're from the Peregrine Tribe."

"What's your last name?" Rhaegar tested.

"No last name. We're bastards—outcasts that nobody likes," she replied.

Her tone and demeanor as she said this made it clear how bitter she felt about her origins.

It made sense. What bastard hasn't suffered scorn and ridicule? Anyone in her position would feel the same.

Baolan asked, "Who are you? Why were you alone in the cave? And what's with the blood and that pile of dung outside?"

Rhaegar pressed his lips together, hesitating over whether to reveal his true identity.

If they were rational, they might detain him to ransom him for money from the royal family. But given Baolan's obvious resentment of her origins, who knew if jealousy might drive her to do something reckless?

Baolan's eyes didn't leave him for a moment. She seemed to guess his concerns immediately.

She scoffed. "Spill it. I won't do anything to you. The Peregrine Tribe is an orderly tribe that protects children and women."

"Alright. I just hope you won't be too shocked."

Rhaegar shrugged and said, "My name is Rhaegar Targaryen. The King is my father. I came here riding a dragon, traveling the continent to admire its beauty."

This statement was half true and half false.

It revealed his background while also serving to intimidate them.

"Targaryen! You're a prince?" Baolan froze for a moment, then finally reacted.

Her younger brother Tormund's eyes sparkled with excitement as he leaned in and asked, "You said you came here on a dragon. Where's your dragon?"

"One question at a time. Don't rush," Rhaegar replied solemnly. "Let me emphasize again: I am indeed a prince. Look at my silver hair and purple eyes—both are symbols of the Targaryen family."

He needed to ensure his personal safety.

As long as they didn't lose their minds, they probably wouldn't harm him.

The siblings before him were still caught up in the excitement of capturing a prince.

To encounter a true-blooded Targaryen dragonrider in their lifetime—there was something undeniably surreal about it.

---

**(End of Chapter)**