The winter in King's Landing ended a little earlier than usual this year. Based on the Citadel's observations, the Conclave had announced the change of seasons. Indeed, the snow on the Rainis Hills and Visenya Hills had completely melted, and a touch of tender green was blossoming on the tree branches. The Blackwater Rush, swollen by melting snow from upstream, surged with white waves towards the bay. The Royal Fleet patrolled the bay's mouth, guarding King's Landing while also escorting the incoming merchant ships—even a Braavosi ship with purple sails slowly sailed into the thawed harbor. Spring had arrived, and trade within and outside of Westeros would increase normally.
All these sights fell into the Crown Prince Rhaegar's eyes with satisfaction. On the hills, he rode his horse and said to Jon, who was accompanying him, "This year's spring plowing will begin half a month earlier than last year. The most conservative estimate is that we can harvest crops three times before Summer ends. We must be sure to do a good job of purchasing and storing the summer grain."
Jon smiled and indicated that the old grain was being allocated, and the warehouses would be cleaned, organized, and emptied. Building a few more storage facilities would be no problem. Several counts near King's Landing also indicated they would sell their surplus grain at a fair price. There was even better news: Lord Rosby had decided to hire the young and strong from Flea Bottom to cultivate new land. After speaking, he looked at the Silver Prince's shining purple eyes, the future king he had sworn fealty to, his eternal, singular love—as high and unattainable as the stars and the moon in the sky, Rhaegar Targaryen.
They were returning from their daily practice at the grand training grounds southwest of King's Landing. They should return to the Red Keep to continue handling affairs and have dinner. Rhaegar told Jon that he wanted to return to his residence as soon as possible instead of going to the Small Council chamber—
Jon knew the reason. Being able to understand the Crown Prince's thoughts was the happiness of a close friend. He thoughtfully said that he would take Petyr and the others to meet with him directly at Maegor's Holdfast.
"Thank you." Rhaegar parted ways with his friend and, surrounded by the rest of his attendants, quickly returned to his residence in the Red Keep. He didn't have time to remove his armor and hurried to the weirwood desk under the window—no new letters, the ravens hadn't yet arrived.
Rhaegar considered himself good at waiting. He removed his armor, washed his face, and sat down patiently, reviewing the necessary documents while waiting for his attendants to serve dinner.
When Lord Jon arrived in the Crown Prince's room with Petyr, who was affectionately nicknamed Littlefinger by everyone, he found Rhaegar sitting by the window, somewhat listless, slowly strumming the strings of his harp. He looked at the food that hadn't been cleared away and judged that the Crown Prince had only eaten half an almond trout with lemon juice, obviously lacking an appetite.
No one would have an appetite after hearing the news that the King had burned thirty prisoners alive in the afternoon.
"They were all common thieves. They could have been sent to the Wall, or to plant trees in the Dornish desert if it was too far, or forced to cultivate land near King's Landing," Rhaegar said lightly. "But Father actually let the pyromancers experiment – how long it takes to roast a person alive. Their screams still seem to be ringing in my ears."
Petyr, upon hearing this news, thought of the agonizing screams of The Mountain at his death, and the unconcealed joy on the young prince's face at the time – compared to the merciful Crown Prince, Viserys was more like this king's own son, sharing the same preferences and loving flames. He secretly thought, dragons aren't afraid of fire, cruelty is actually their nature, but he didn't dare to show any of his true thoughts about Viserys in front of the Crown Prince.
He simply brought the accounts of wine sales and profits for the recent period to the Crown Prince to see. Facing a tenfold increase in profits compared to before, Rhaegar was slightly surprised, and then praised him, thanking him for bringing the only good news of the day.
"You are very capable, Petyr. If you have any extra energy, I'm considering recommending you to a key position in King's Landing Customs this year."
Petyr immediately stated that he would loyally serve both princes wherever he was. He cleverly mentioned Prince Viserys as well, which indeed brought a slight smile to Rhaegar's face, "You are the talent introduced by my brother, and in the future, please put his interests first."
...The cruel young prince always puts you first, he thought.
Rhaegar invited Jon and Petyr to enjoy the fruits sent from Highgarden, melons and peaches, they were served in glass bowls, pink and golden and sweet, they were truly worthy of their name – Jon, as a friend of the Crown Prince, was not surprised to share the tribute food, Petyr was still a bit restrained, holding the melon and taking small bites, lowering his head to swallow the sweet juice that burst in his mouth, he thought, Catelyn might love them. Could he enjoy them in the North? Then he realized he wasn't in too much pain. The young prince said, career is the best medicine for a broken heart...
He suddenly heard the flapping of wings.
The Crown Prince, usually so composed, hurried to the window, not even bothering to put down a slice of melon. He held out his arm, and a jet-black raven landed steadily upon it.
A roll of thin parchment was tied to the raven's leg. The Crown Prince eagerly untied it, and his eyes filled with mirth.
"My brother, Viserys, has sent me a letter from Winterfell."
Jon knew that this was why the Crown Prince had been returning to the Red Keep early these past few days. Petyr was surprised to see that the hint of melancholy that had been in the Crown Prince's expression was now completely gone with the arrival of this letter.
Rhaegar unfolded the densely written letter.
"My dearest brother, I wonder if spring has come to King's Landing yet? I truly miss the oak trees in the godswood, with the vibrant fireberries climbing upon them. I remember a wonderful night when you played the harp beneath the tree, and I lay with my head on your knee, unable to stop myself from praising you, and happened to swallow a fallen fireberry. You burst out laughing—when will we brothers be able to relive such moments? Brother, the fragrance of dragon's breath grass has always lingered in my memory. I miss you.
There is also a weirwood in Winterfell, thousands of miles away. The deep red leaves of the weirwood are like the bloody hands of men, and the trunk bears a face of a man in agony, perhaps because it has witnessed thousands of years of fighting and strife on this ancient land. The Starks and the Boltons have been at war for two thousand years, yet Aegon the Conqueror made the King of the North surrender without a fight; it seems the Starks are men of the hour, at least at that time. Their lands and castles were not burned by dragonflame, and the godswood has grown for ten thousand years. Brother, the North believes in the Old Gods, and the weirwood is a place of devout prayer, so I might as well pray for my dearest brother's health and happiness, and that he may find love and companionship, and live a life of happiness."
Under the candlelight, Rhaegar's purple eyes swirled, and a slight smile played on his lips. He harbored a thousand tender thoughts, but couldn't voice them to the person he longed to speak to. He traced the edge of the letter with his finger and read again.
"Winterfell has a glass garden, kept warm by hot springs, and its winter roses are famous. But brother, I remember Dragonstone also has underground hot springs. When you are made a prince, you can completely imitate the craftsmanship and build a similar small garden. Even in the long winter, you can eat the freshest vegetables and fruits. You love lemon cake, and you can always make it with freshly picked ingredients. I'm not in King's Landing, are you eating on time every day, brother? No matter what troubles you encounter, brother, with the two of us, there's nothing we can't solve, so, brother, you must not let your mood affect your appetite. Brother! You are my biggest support."
Jon stared, dumbfounded, as the Crown Prince sat back at the table with the letter, and, along with fresh bread, devoured the remaining half of the almond trout he hadn't finished. Did the little prince's letters have some kind of magic?
Rhaegar, following Viserys's instructions, asked the kitchen to bring hot milk for the evening. After Jon and the others finally left, Rhaegar read the rest of the letter in private—
"Brother, haha, let me tell you something interesting. Robert Baratheon's proposal was rejected by the Duke of Winterfell! Because, when he was competing with Brandon, his own warhammer smashed his head! During the few days he was bedridden, the kitchen maids, camp followers, farm girls, and waitresses he had dallied with all flocked to Winterfell, bringing several illegitimate children and demanding that Robert take responsibility, hahahaha, it was amazing! The Duke of Stark sent those people away, and used this as a reason to reject the engagement. You really should have seen Robert's expression and complexion, hahahaha."
Rhaegar immediately sensed the abnormality of the event and his brother's boastfulness. Robert was indeed a dissolute man, but the women he had been intimate with should mostly have been in King's Landing and the Stormlands, so why would they all travel to the North? Perhaps his brother… played a role in this matter.
He gave a wry smile and shook his head, thinking it was good for Robert to learn a lesson. He hoped he would restrain himself in the future.
"I told Robert, lying in bed, that he was a terrible man. I didn't want to be his page anymore, lest I lose face in the future, fail to become a knight, get a bad reputation, and fail to find a wife. He almost fainted again, but when he came to, he roared and called me a bastard, and grabbed a cup from the bedside and threw it at me—it just so happened to hit Lyanna, who was behind me visiting him, on the foot. The injured Lyanna understood that this was a man who would hurt children and women when he got angry. She also cursed him, and Robert was like a dog whipped. Ah ha ha ha ha ha! Now, in House Stark, no one wants to pay him any attention except Ned."
Rhaegar didn't know what expression he should wear – condemn his brother for gloating? He couldn't.
"Brother, let me introduce you to Lyanna first. She's a good girl, not like those affected ladies in King's Landing. She loves to ride horses and wield a sword like a boy. She's forthright and loves to fight injustice. Brother, I think she's the true winter rose of Winterfell!"
Rhaegar frowned as he read this. His brother rarely praised any woman so highly! The lady the Starks were originally going to marry Robert to – she was almost five years older than Viserys! Viserys was still young, how could he... Could it be that the North had some designs on his brother?
He was worried and nervous, took a sip of wine, and continued reading the letter. Fortunately, Viserys didn't talk about this so-called winter rose anymore. He was still missing him --
"Brother, whenever I gaze at the bright silver snow line in the distance, I think of your hair color. The grapes grown in the glass greenhouse, my Dothraki Sea pony, everything makes me miss you and cherish the time we spent together. But it's a pity that I'll probably spend my birthday in the North this year. Because I've gotten rid of Robert, I'm free. The words you said to me are always in my ears: traveling abroad, my experiences will be the most vivid book. So now, I want to add a few pages to this book. Brother, I'm going to the Wall, to visit the Night's Watch's Castle Black and our old uncle Aemon. I love the Night's Watch's oath: I dedicate my life and glory to the Night's Watch, tonight and every night. Because brother, I am the same for you. No matter what the future holds, I am willing to be by your side, Rhaegar I, and watch over the country with the king until death. My dear brother, when I return from my travels, I will return to your side and never leave again.
Forever loving you, Viserys."
Rhaegar held the parchment close to his chest – his heart was pounding violently, his blood was burning. No one in this world was luckier than him.
He carefully rolled it up and put it in a golden box, which contained thirty-six identical scrolls neatly arranged. Rhaegar placed the box beside his pillow, gently caressing it until he fell asleep, dreaming of his silver-haired Targaryen lover, tonight and every night.
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