Chapter 72: Activity
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In the following days, after the last assassination attempt on the future consort, everyone noticed that their activities had been reduced to almost complete anonymity.
Only his servants, who had previously sworn allegiance to him, observed his movements and how he spent his time. During the day, he trained in the Silver Tower with those undergoing training. However, at night, he would walk through a flower garden he had taken the time to tend.
That was the only place he chose to sit, and what he did afterward was seemingly close his eyes to rest.
Knowing his new routine, the servants were not too concerned; after all, it was better than being confined to his room without seeing any sunlight.
The oldest woman among the servants smiled warmly, as she knew Haldor much better since she had been taking care of him until now.
Everyone loved the future consort, at least those who had sworn loyalty to him.
That night, Haldor was once again seated beneath that cherry tree, enjoying its somewhat artificial nature. In this area closer to nature, one could appreciate how the air gently caressed every part of one's body, and one could even perceive parts of oneself if one concentrated enough and connected with nature.
Within Haldor, a sensation he had cherished in his past life and had set aside for survival was reborn.
"Even if I can't be immortal, I will live to old age, although they say it's a bother." Haldor acknowledged that no one would remember him after his death; perhaps he would be recorded in history, but in daily life, everyone would forget him, so he cared only about his closest ones.
He just wanted to be well, share his life with others, and reach a peaceful end without worrying about whether he would live to see another day.
Indeed, this sense of tranquility was what he had been seeking. For him, who could easily be at the top of the world, the safest place would always be nature and those who could understand it. Perhaps it was a bit special to choose whom to marry, but only in that way would he have someone for the rest of his life, and from that moment on, he was determined to protect her until his heart stopped beating.
This was his only way of viewing commitment, perhaps because he had never been in love before. If it came to that, things might change for the better or worse in the future. That's what he liked about life; nothing could be perceived about the future.
As he contemplated the stars in the night sky, Haldor suddenly felt as though he were submerged in a dream. Over the last few days, he has been preparing by learning the languages spoken in this world and getting into perfect condition for war. He had now understood, more or less, the general situation on the continent. However, the more he understood, the more confused he became.
If it weren't for the fact that everything was written in ancient books, Haldor would have thought this world was much larger than it actually seemed to be.
Haldor sighed as he lay back on the verdant grass. He then thought sorrowfully, Why did I appear in this world? Why can I suddenly live another life after everything I went through? Maybe this is a reward, but it's too poor, as the things that could be achieved here are as simple as participating in a war against ancient beings.
Is that really my purpose?
He tried to convince himself that it was.
The things he could achieve were beneficial; right now, he could even take the world if he wanted, and probably very few people could stand against him and his gigantic dragon.
"I never imagined you would like places like this."
Haldor opened his eyes, a vivid blue light reflected in his gaze, and, looking at Daemon, said, "What brings you here?"
"I don't think I'm as naive as my brother. Do you really believe that everyone will believe that tale of the White Walkers? Even if they exist, they won't be able to pass the great wall," Daemon confronted Haldor directly.
"Do you really think you're powerful with your little dragon? Neither you nor I are strong because of dragons. How do you suppose Belarion died? The largest dragon of your house, after the conquest of the Seven Kingdoms, how do you think he died?"
Daemon frowned and asked, "What are you referring to?"
"There are more dragon riders outside the Seven Kingdoms. If my father and I could tame a dragon, what makes you think there aren't more dragons out there? The way Belarion died was unknown, but he probably died in an unexpected battle."
Haldor was not intimidated by this old dog; he feared no one, so he stood up, walked toward Daemon, and said, "Do you want me to reveal something? I don't care about your land; ruling is for boring people. What I want to do is survive, so leave those conspiracy problems aside. If you want to fight with me, you need to have a purpose for that war in the North."
Daemon remained silent, watched Haldor walk away, and said nothing.
Is he really wrong?
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