章 46: Chapter 45: Burial
Under the deepening night.
Viserys stood quietly on the hillside.
Whoosh—
The black velvet cloak fluttered in the wind, and his slightly curled hair swept across his pale purple eyes.
This place was on the sunny side of the hill on Dragonstone, where an active volcano lay. Due to the current summer months of June and July, the temperature on the island was quite high. Queen Rhaella's body could not be preserved, so they didn't wait for Viserys to return.
As the acting lord of Dragonstone, steward appointed by Prince Rhaegar, the Duke of Dragonstone, a Dornish bastard led the people of the island in holding a funeral for Queen Rhaella.
They buried the queen, whose life had been filled with ups and downs, here.
"Mother had a cheerful and lively nature; she should be accompanied by sunshine, breeze, and white clouds."
Viserys stood at the forefront, his voice suddenly cutting through the air, carried far by the wind.
But... atop Queen Rhaella's tombstone was billowing white smoke.
'Fire and Blood' was the Targaryen family's motto. It wasn't strange for Queen Rhaella, as a Targaryen, to choose to be neighbors with fire after her death, so Viserys didn't have any objections to his mother's burial site.
Viserys stood at the forefront, surrounded by many guards, with the acting lord of Dragonstone, Ser Sand, standing behind him.
With a yellow headscarf wrapped around his head and a few fine wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, Ser Sand squinted slightly, and the wrinkles deepened.
Ser Sand looked at Viserys' back, slightly lost in thought.
The master-at-arms standing beside him noticed this and frowned, deeply looking at the other.
He opened his mouth as if wanting to say something, but ultimately remained silent, retracting his gaze and looking back at Queen Rhaella's tombstone.
Viserys didn't say much in front of the tombstone either, just sitting quietly for a while before standing up.
He seemed even calmer than when he first heard the news, showing no emotional outburst, only hidden sadness in his heart.
"Let's go."
The silver-haired boy tilted his head slightly, and under the light of the torches, Viserys' handsome cheek was illuminated by the fire on one side, while the other half was shrouded in darkness, with only a pair of bright eyes standing out.
"Yes, Your Grace."
The guards quickly responded to Viserys' words.
Their address had changed from 'Your Highness' to 'Your Grace' at some point.
But Viserys didn't care about this at all. An empty title without power made no difference whether he was a prince or a king.
He didn't care about an empty name.
In fact, if he could, he'd rather give up these titles and become an ordinary person, but reality wouldn't allow him to do so.
Even if he gave up the title of king, as long as his surname was Targaryen and his blood still boiled with the heat of the 'Dragon Kings', House Baratheon would never let him go.
Viserys couldn't escape; even fleeing wouldn't grant him a dignified death.
So, he had to fight bravely against them, using swords, fists, or even biting with his teeth, to struggle for a chance to survive and a place to stand.
"Viserys."
At this moment, the master-at-arms, who had been silent behind him, suddenly spoke.
"There's something..."
William Darry began speaking, even forgetting that he should now address Viserys as 'Your Grace.'
The acting lord of Dragonstone didn't know why, but his throat moved slightly, as if swallowing saliva, and his hand reached towards his waist.
Among the guards holding torches, a few exchanged glances in silence, seemingly aware of the tension in each other's eyes.
Viserys, hearing the voice of the master-at-arms, turned his head slightly towards him.
His silver-golden hair curled on his forehead and was blown apart by the wind.
Seeing the hesitation in the master-at-arms, Viserys raised his hand to interrupt him.
"I know what you're going to say, Ser."
Viserys interrupted the master-at-arms.
"I'm tired now."
"We can discuss it tomorrow."
The master-at-arms wanted to say something, but Viserys stopped him. They exchanged a glance, and he saw an unusual color in the boy's pale purple eyes.
How did Viserys know? He had just returned.
"Is that so?"
The middle-aged master-at-arms frowned slightly but decided not to continue after weighing the matter.
He had looked into Viserys' eyes, and he trusted the boy's judgment.
On the other side, a few guards and Ser Sand sighed in relief, their hanging hearts finally at ease.
They didn't know what the former Red Keep master-at-arms wanted to say to Viserys, whether he had discovered their plan, but now was not the right time to act.
In small-scale battles, William Darry's swordsmanship was the biggest obstacle to their plan.
The Red Keep master-at-arms' brilliance had been overshadowed by his older brother, a Kingsguard, but William Darry's swordsmanship should not be underestimated.
His brother, former Kingsguard to Aerys II, Jon Darry, might not have fared well against him either.
And such a skilled knight, even with recurring old injuries and some frailty, was not someone they could easily handle.
Especially since there were more of them here.
Afterward, the party with varying intentions left the active volcano and returned to Dragonstone.
Viserys was somewhat tired, having not slept all day on the ship, and it was now the middle of the night.
Still, the silver-haired boy insisted on seeing his sister, Daenerys Targaryen, who was being cared for by a wet nurse found somewhere.
The future famous girl.
Viserys entered the wet nurse's room. She was a native of Dragonstone who had recently given birth and had milk, so the guards had brought her to nurse Princess Daenerys.
The silver-haired boy stood before the tiny crib, fighting his fatigue to carefully observe the infant girl swaddled in soft blankets.
A touch of coarse silver hair, a wrinkled face that wasn't particularly adorable, and a pair of bright, large eyes.
Their eyes met.
She saw Viserys and, for some reason, giggled, reaching out to grab the 'little grown-up' before her.
Viserys, seeing Daenerys' smile, felt some of his weariness dissipate.
Gently, he reached out and held his sister's tiny hand. .
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