When Aemon heard the news, his eyes lit up with delight.
Does this mean I get to go back to King's Landing?
"That's right," Gonsor confirmed, plucking at a clump of stubborn grass with a sigh. "They're throwing a celebration for the prince's second name day—King Viserys's firstborn. Word is, nobles from across the realm are invited."
He rolled his eyes and huffed. "The royal coffers must be bottomless. I swear, the king will host a tourney for a sneeze next. Even a child's birthday has to be paraded before the realm."
Aemon barely heard him. His mind had already wandered.
There would be a royal hunt. A grand one.
He'd spent nearly all his young life confined to Runestone, watched over by a distant mother and a father who only ever sent ravens, never warmth. King's Landing, with its dragons, its lords, and the pulsing heart of House Targaryen, was more fantasy than memory.
But now... he might see it for himself.
"Oi, little lad, stop yanking weeds like a goat!"
Gonsor scowled, attempting to feed a flock of unimpressed sheep with a bunch of dry grass they wouldn't touch.
Aemon blinked back to the moment. With sudden excitement, he grabbed William's hand and sprinted for the castle.
"Wha—wait—slow down!" William stumbled behind him, nearly dragged off his feet.
After a mad dash across the yard, Aemon screeched to a halt and turned sharply. He pointed an imperious finger at a towering, broad-shouldered man near the edge of the pasture.
"You! You're in charge now. Make sure they finish collecting the Ula grass."
The man blinked in surprise, caught completely off-guard by the tiny lord's command.
Aemon puffed out his chest, trying his best to look stern. "And from now on, you shall address me as 'Prince.' No more of this 'little lad' nonsense."
His voice, still unmistakably that of a toddler, carried all the menace of a kitten.
Before the man could respond, Aemon had turned again and pulled William away, leaving the baffled giant behind in a breeze of dust and pride.
—
As soon as they returned to the castle, Aemon rushed to his mother's chambers and blurted out his question.
Lady Rhea Royce, seated near the hearth with a cup of strong drink in hand, gave a rare smile.
"It's true. His Grace announced it to all corners of the realm. A royal hunt to mark young Aegon's second nameday. Lords and ladies from every Reach and Vale will attend."
Then, as if remembering something important, she added, "And you've been named, Aemon. The king's raven named you among the invited."
Aemon's heart leapt. "Really?!"
She chuckled. "I meant to tell you last night, but you were half-asleep and drooling on your sleeve. Didn't want you too wound up to sleep."
Aemon didn't wait to hear more. He whooped and bolted down the corridor like a wild pup.
Finally! Finally, I get to leave Runestone!
—
Three days later, the hunting party was ready.
The Vale contingent, led by Lady Rhea herself, was a proud and disciplined force of over fifty knights, flanked by several carriages and servants. Bronze armour gleamed beneath the rising sun, the Royce sigil stitched onto banners flapping in the breeze.
Rhea, ever the warrior, rode at the front on a sturdy brown warhorse. Her armour, a shining example of the Royce tradition, looked magnificent—shining brass plates laid over leather, polished to an almost golden hue. Aemon, sitting inside one of the carriages, peered out in awe.
So majestic…
When Royce nobles rode out for events like this, they did so in style. The family's distinctive bronze armour and fierce Vale steeds were famous throughout Westeros.
"I want to look that powerful when I become a knight," Aemon muttered dreamily.
William, trotting beside the carriage on his pony, chimed in proudly, "When I'm older, I'll make a set of rune-etched bronze armour to pass down to my heirs!"
Aemon scoffed. "You'd better start by finding more than two clumps of Ula grass."
William's face turned red. "That grass is useless! Not half as valuable as armour."
"Oh? And do you have bronze armour?" Aemon tilted his chin in mock arrogance.
"Actually, yes!" William perked up, seizing the opportunity. "There's an old set in my family's vault. And I heard Gunthor's got one too. I'll find them both, just you wait!"
Aemon grinned, giving him a big thumbs up. "You're the best cousin."
Compliments flowed like sweet wine, and William soaked it in with a dopey grin. He wasn't sure what Aemon was planning, but he was happy to help. Anything for family.
As William rode ahead, Aemon ducked back into the carriage, satisfied.
There's no more bronze armour in Runestone. But a 'family collection'? Perfect.
Once he returned from King's Landing, he'd stockpile whatever he needed. Bargains, armour, tools—he'd have it all.
He glanced down at the two prized items resting on the seat beside him: a satchel filled with freshly collected Ula grass and a black steel furnace vessel housing his dragon egg.
Aemon beamed. "This much Ula grass should be enough to weave a massive mat."
Over three days, he'd gathered 24 clumps—not bad, considering the pastures were nearly picked clean.
With practiced ease, he opened the shimmering white [Magic Essence Panel].
Three cards floated in the air: one green, two blue. All unattainable, for now.
His eyes lingered on the third blue card—[Strong and Strong].
A talent that boosted physical power tremendously. The kind of strength that made knights legends.
The cost? 200 essence.
Aemon sighed. I can't afford that in five lifetimes.
But he brightened again as he glanced down to the golden hourglass at the corner of the screen:
[Magic Essence: 31]
Not bad. Not bad at all.
With a thought, the panel vanished, replaced by the heat of the black steel furnace. As he opened the vessel, a gust of warm air filled the carriage.
Inside, the black dragon egg sat nestled and still. No signs of hatching yet.
Aemon gently touched the shell.
You have discovered an item containing magical power. Gained +3 Magic Essence.
He smiled, closed the lid, and leaned back.
Three points every three days from the dragon egg. The future's looking brighter by the hour.
—
The Royce convoy soon departed.
Rather than braving the long, winding path through the Moon Mountains to reach King's Landing, they headed south toward Gulltown.
The port city was the Vale's only major connection to the sea and a longtime ally of House Royce.
From there, they would set sail and arrive at the royal celebration in good time.
Aemon stuck his head out the window, watching trees blur past and villages shrink in the distance.
The world outside was so much bigger than he'd imagined.
And this was only the beginning.