Shenmu Forest, Rear Courtyard Garden.
Lush vegetation thrived, towering pines and cypresses stood in neat rows, interspersed with dragon statues and fountain pools.
Above the vast open space, several adjacent sunshades had been set up.
Unmarried noblemen who had yet to meet potential matches gathered in small groups, chatting about various topics.
Under the largest sunshade, Viserys glanced around and asked, "Where is Helena?"
"The princess is probably still getting ready," Corlys replied casually, standing near a basin filled with ice.
Viserys frowned in displeasure. "Being late is not a good habit."
Corlys scooped up some ice, crushed it in his hand, and enjoyed the refreshing coolness before saying sincerely, "Your Majesty, if you were searching for treasure among a pile of rubbish, you'd take your time as well."
As he spoke, he rubbed some ice shavings into his goblet, savoring each sip.
Unlike the Targaryens, he did not have their dragon blood to resist the scorching heat.
The cold sensation rushed to his head, and Corlys took a sharp breath. "Nothing is more enjoyable than sipping a chilled Summer Red during the peak of summer!"
Viserys watched him for a moment, feeling a pang of reluctance. "The war with Dorne has started—Summer Red won't be easy to come by."
"Don't worry, the dragons will clear the way for you," Corlys said confidently.
His eldest son had gone to the Stormlands battlefield, where two dragons and the entire Stormlands' forces were more than enough to deal with the invading Dornish army.
The Dornish were formidable mainly because of their harsh desert environment.
Soldiers from other parts of Westeros might struggle in the blistering heat of the Red Mountains and deep within Dorne.
But once the Dornish were removed from their familiar terrain, they would be like sharks stranded on land—dangerous no longer.
Viserys shook his head and chuckled. "Aren't you usually the cautious one? The one who values war the most?"
"Only the unknown battles are frightening," Corlys replied matter-of-factly. "A battle where the outcome is already determined is as simple as setting sail after reading the weather."
Thinking about the recent fall of the Three Daughters, Viserys felt reassured, a surge of pride rising within him.
Glancing around, he called for a servant and instructed, "Go find Helena. Don't make the lords wait any longer."
Corlys barely reacted, continuing to crush the ice in his hands.
Seeing this, Viserys sighed with a wry smile. "I wish I didn't have to worry about my children all the time."
"King Jaehaerys spent his entire life worrying about his children. Perhaps it's a Targaryen tradition," Corlys quipped, then added with meaning, "And the more you worry, the less likely things turn out well."
Viserys froze, momentarily speechless.
Corlys' words suddenly made him think of his deceased aunts.
None of them had met a good end.
A chill ran down Viserys' spine, and he immediately ordered, "Find Helena! Tell her to come see her father!"
He had never approved of this so-called Maiden's Fair in the first place.
For Aegon, as a boy, it was simple—just pick a noble house for him to marry into.
But Helena was a girl, still young. Why the rush to marry her off?
---
Not far away, near a fountain in a pine grove.
Helena sat on the stone steps, twirling a purple flower between her fingers, plucking its petals one by one.
As she did, she murmured softly, "A mirror reflects the opposite side..."
Tap, tap, tap…
Footsteps approached, breaking the tranquility as two female companions stepped forward to block an intruder.
Helena snapped out of her thoughts and turned to see who it was.
In her view, Rayla and Molly were standing hand-in-hand, blocking the path of a dark-haired man.
Ulwyn looked awkward but quickly reassured them, "I mean no harm. I simply wish to speak with the princess."
He tiptoed to catch a glimpse of Helena, his eyes lighting up when he saw her.
Helena, however, withdrew her gaze, crushed the stem of her now-bare flower, and murmured, "A bridge waits for you..."
With her two companions standing guard, Ulwyn could only stand ten meters away from the fountain. Growing impatient, he called out, "Princess, please grant me the honor of a few words."
That morning, he had failed to secure an audience in the throne room.
Now that she was alone, this was a golden opportunity.
For a naive young girl like her, if neither coercion nor bribery worked, deception was the best approach.
Helena remained seated, reaching out to swirl her fingers in the fountain water. "Say whatever you need to say," she said coolly.
Her tone implied that if he didn't speak now, he might never get another chance.
Ulwyn seized the moment, pretending to be a gentleman. "Princess, I am the Earl of House Peake..."
He introduced his noble lineage, subtly hinting at his wealth.
Helena, unimpressed, continued trying to catch a fat koi fish in the fountain.
Seeing himself so blatantly ignored, Ulwyn's eyes darkened for a split second, but he forced himself to maintain his composure.
He knew that noble ladies favored charming, delicate men.
Clearing his throat, he dropped to one knee. "From the moment I saw you at Harrenhal, you have haunted my dreams. I traveled countless miles to King's Landing just for the chance to see you again."
Helena responded with a completely straight face. "Congratulations. You got your wish."
Ulwyn was momentarily speechless but quickly shifted topics. "Princess, the King and Queen are concerned about your marriage. I humbly offer my hand and hope to win your favor."
Helena sighed wistfully. "Lord Ulwyn, your looks are unremarkable, yet your ambitions are quite grand."
"I speak from the heart," Ulwyn insisted, determined to press forward. Realizing he needed to offer more, he gritted his teeth and declared, "If you marry me, you may choose any one of my family's three castles as your own."
Among the noble houses of the Reach, House Peake ranked among the more prominent.
The daughters of House Peake had once married into noble families such as Redwyne, Rowan, and Hightower.
Aside from their cunning ways, the foundation of their family's power lay in three castles.
Helena fluttered her eyelashes and counted on her fingers: "One for me, Aemond, Daeron…"
"Princess, what are you talking about?"
Ulwyn stared blankly, not understanding.
Helena shook her head. "Nothing, I was just wondering which castle truly belongs to your family."
The Three-Castle family seemed glorious, but behind the scenes, there was no shortage of filth.
Originally, House Peake had only one ancestral castle—Starfall, located on the Dornish Marches.
Around a thousand years ago, the Gardener kings of the Reach waged war against rebellious vassals and defeated House Manderly, who refused to submit.
After the war, House Manderly was driven out of the Reach, losing their ancestral castle along the banks of the Mander River—
Dunstonbury.
This castle was then taken over by their longtime rivals, House Peake.
Later, House Manderly, exiled and wandering, eventually settled in the distant North, where they built White Harbor, modeled after Dunstonbury.
Thus, House Peake gained its second castle.
As for the third castle, it had once belonged to a noble house lost to history—
Whitegarden.
The exact history is uncertain, but from the tales passed down among the old noble families of the Reach, it is known that a certain generation of the original house lacked male heirs, leading to a woman inheriting both the title and lands.
A Peake lord at the time married into the family, and through the right of surname inheritance, he seized control of Whitegarden.
Generations of calculated usurpation had built the foundation of House Peake's outward glory.
Having his ancestors' shady history pointed out right to his face, Ulwyn swallowed the curse on the tip of his tongue and gritted his teeth. "Princess, if one castle isn't enough, I'll give you both—everything except for Starfall."
From recent reports, the Black and Green factions had remained at peace, though the Queen and Princess Rhaenyra frequently clashed.
The Crown Prince, as heir to the Iron Throne, commanded both Harrenhal and his unfinished princely residence.
Princess Rhaenyra, bearing heirs of her own, held the Targaryen stronghold of Dragonstone.
Now, with the conquest of the Three Daughters, Myr and Lys had also fallen into the Crown Prince's hands.
By comparison, the Greens had only one noble son, Prince Aegon, who possessed merely the distant Twin Towers on the Stepstones.
Giving away two castles at once—Ulwyn refused to believe that a young girl could remain unmoved.
Helena was taken aback. "Two castles?"
She hadn't expected him to be so generous.
Ulwyn nodded eagerly. "As long as you accept my proposal, they're yours."
Such sweet words.
If she bore him an heir, he could simply use the same tactics as his ancestors to reclaim the castles through the right of surname inheritance.
And he, in turn, would marry a true Targaryen princess.
Beyond the advantages of becoming a royal son-in-law and gaining access to King's Landing's power center,
The princess herself possessed a fully grown dragon.
Whoever married her would have descendants with Targaryen blood—the natural gift to become dragonriders.
Lord Corlys Velaryon had already set a fine example.
Just as Ulwyn reveled in his grand vision, convinced his plan was unfolding perfectly—
Helena rejected him outright. "Castles are indeed a generous gift, but you don't have a dragon."
"Princess, if you marry me, our children will have dragons!"
Ulwyn let his guard slip, blurting out his true intentions.
Helena tilted her head and said bluntly, "So that's what this is about? You want dragons through me?"
It was a cheap scheme—one held by countless nobles across Westeros.
Having his little ploy exposed, Ulwyn flushed with anger and shot to his feet. "Princess, the Queen needs allies. No one in Westeros dares side with you. Marrying me is your best choice."
"Why does my mother need allies?" Helena's gaze sharpened.
Ulwyn spoke frankly, "To stand against Prince Rhaegar, of course. Once the King dies, you'll all be in trouble."
"Brother…"
Helena murmured to herself, lost in thought. "So this is what you all believe?"
From the conversation so far, she had already gathered that Ulwyn was acquainted with her mother.
It reminded her of how Manfred Hightower had prepared her cousin, Ser Lyna, for Aegon.
She couldn't help but suspect that Ulwyn was the match her mother had chosen for her.
"All because of baseless assumptions?"
Helena furrowed her delicate brows.
Ulwyn continued to embellish his argument, shouting, "I serve Her Majesty the Queen. She promised me a chance to marry you!"
"I don't believe it!"
Helena screamed, her voice sharp with defiance. "My mother would never have such poor judgment!"
Her chest rose and fell with deep breaths. She straightened her expression, voice turning cold. "Wait here. I'll be back soon."
With that, she stormed away, leaving behind two worried attendants.
Ulwyn hesitated for a moment, wanting to follow, but was immediately blocked by the hostile gazes of Rhaela and Molly.
…
Helena moved quickly, marching straight back to Maegor's Holdfast and into her chamber.
For some reason, her mind was unusually clear.
She was certain now—this Peake lord harbored ulterior motives and was full of lies.
So.
Bang—
She pushed open the door, strode directly to the balcony, and took down the Valyrian steel sword, Long Summer, hanging on the wall.
With a swift motion, she drew the blade. Its chilling gleam flashed in the light.
Helena's expression turned serious as she muttered to herself,
"I can't let Dreamfyre loose—I'll just have to cut him down myself!"
(End of Chapter)