Aemon tilted his head curiously. "What's in the cage?"
Could it be a parting gift?
"Caw! Caw!"
The cage trembled as the harsh cry of a raven echoed out.
Rhaenyra shrugged lightly, a small smile tugging at her lips. "You're leaving tomorrow, so I asked Maester Mellos for a raven to make communication between King's Landing and Runestone easier."
She handed the cage to him, her expression soft and affectionate.
"Rhaenyra, you're so thoughtful," Aemon said, genuinely impressed as he inspected the raven.
In Westeros, ravens were essential for communication between lords and castles. They were faster and hardier than pigeons, making them the preferred method for delivering messages across vast distances.
While Runestone already had a roost of ravens, they were used for official correspondence, not private exchanges.
Rhaenyra clasped her hands behind her back, hiding the flicker of sorrow in her eyes as she reminded him, "Write to me whenever you can. If I have anything troubling me, I'll write to you too."
"Don't worry, I'll definitely write," Aemon assured her with a grin, pounding his chest for emphasis.
His gaze shifted to Laena Velaryon, who stood nearby, her expression unreadable. "And what about her?"
"Laena will be traveling with you," Rhaenyra explained. "The Velaryon ships will be heading in the same direction. You'll have each other's company on the journey."
Aemon understood—this was Rhaenyra's way of ensuring he had a reliable companion to protect him.
"Thank you," he said sincerely.
Laena's gentle smile radiated warmth. "It's nothing. I'm looking forward to getting to know you better."
Her voice was soft, melodic, and effortlessly charming.
But to Aemon, her demeanor sent chills down his spine.
Beautiful women are dangerous, he reminded himself.
Laena's honeyed gaze narrowed playfully, and her tone turned light. "Don't worry, I'll take good care of you."
Aemon's face tightened. He quickly found an excuse to retreat.
The Next Day
Mud Gate, Blackwater Bay
Two ships awaited at the docks, their banners flying high—one bearing the sigil of House Targaryen, the other of House Velaryon.
Aemon stood on the pier, bidding his farewells one by one.
"Once you return, dedicate yourself to learning how to govern. You must bring prosperity to the people of Runestone," Viserys said, his tone both fatherly and regretful.
The king's heart was heavy. Rumors of Aemon riding a white stag had spread like wildfire, elevating him in the eyes of the people to near-mythical status—some even whispered he was the second coming of Aegon the Conqueror.
Reluctantly, Viserys had allowed Aemon to leave, though it left him uneasy.
"I will, uncle," Aemon replied, nodding earnestly.
He tugged at Ser Steffon's white cloak, looking up at his uncle with wide, pleading eyes.
The Kingsguard knight shifted uncomfortably, unsure of what to do.
Viserys sighed, running a hand through his hair. After a moment's hesitation, he waved his hand. "Ser Steffon, accompany Aemon to the Vale. Teach him well."
"Yes, Your Grace," Steffon said with a relieved bow.
Aemon's face broke into a wide grin as he turned to say goodbye to Rhaenyra.
Rhaenyra's melancholy was palpable. She embraced him tightly, holding him longer than expected. "Don't forget to write," she whispered.
"Of course," Aemon murmured, his head buried against her flat stomach.
In recent days, he'd come to appreciate Rhaenyra's warmth and sincerity. Beneath her occasional recklessness, she was a kind and intelligent sister figure who cared deeply for him.
After releasing her, he added with a teasing grin, "Next time I visit, you'd better take me dragon-riding."
Rhaenyra giggled, ruffling his hair.
Finally, Aemon approached Alicent. Their parting was filled with unspoken emotion as she wiped at her reddening eyes.
"Goodbye for now," he called out as the ship began to depart, waving enthusiastically. "I'll be back soon!"
The ship slowly drifted away from the dock, leaving King's Landing behind.
Onboard the Ship
"Your Highness, how should we handle these?"
Ser Laen Waters—known as the "Seagull Knight"—gestured toward several heavy chests stacked neatly on the deck.
Aemon turned to him, arching a brow. "Knight? I am a prince now."
Laen quickly corrected himself, bowing. "Apologies, Prince Aemon."
Aemon's stern expression softened as he examined the chests. They bore the roaring lion sigil of House Lannister.
"Store them in my personal treasury," he said with a satisfied smirk.
The chests contained the payment he had demanded from Jason Lannister—a hefty 10,000 gold dragons.
Unable to argue with Aemon's logic—or Viserys's seal—Jason had begrudgingly paid the sum, though he'd likely been grumbling all the way back to Casterly Rock.
Aemon rubbed his hands together gleefully. "Now that's what I call traveling in style."
Back at King's Landing
The rain began to fall as Alicent watched a carriage leave through the gates of the Red Keep.
Her father, Otto Hightower, had been dismissed from his position as Hand of the King and was on his way back to Oldtown.
Alicent lingered in the rain, torn between heartbreak and relief.
She no longer wanted to be a pawn in anyone's schemes, even her father's.
Just as she turned to leave, one of the Cargyll brothers approached with a covered cage.
"Your Grace," he said, bowing. "This was left for you by Prince Aemon. He asked that it be delivered personally."
"What is it?" Alicent asked, her voice steady despite her emotions.
The knight lifted the cover, revealing a raven.
"He said that if you ever miss him, you can send a letter," Cargyll explained.
Alicent's lips curved into a soft smile as she gazed at the bird.
Without another word, she quickened her steps, eager to pen her first letter.