House of The Dragon:The Rise of the Emperor of the Seven Kingdoms

Chapter 122: Chapter 121 – The Princess’s Tears (III)

Inside a dark room, lit only by the flickering light of the torches around it, Maekar could be seen beside Victorio, the Maester of Harrenhal. Before them was a table, where Gael’s son’s body could be seen.

Victorio’s eyes looked at the strange, deformed body with a calm look; his gaze traced over the baby’s scales and wings. It was truly curious how a human child could have such features.

“The Dragon Lords were mad, but also geniuses,” Maekar said, gently stroking his son’s hair. “Using blood magic, they put dragon blood into their own bodies.”

“This bloodline usually lies dormant but is particularly active when the child is being formed in the mother’s womb. Any other magic that touches the fetus could trigger a strong reaction, something the baby’s body can’t withstand.”

Of course, what Maekar was saying was pure conjecture on his part. However, with the case of Rhaego, the son of Daenerys and Drogo, he felt his theory wasn’t wrong. For this reason, he believed someone had killed his not yet born son.

Looking at the old maester, Maekar said in a cold tone. “You’ve been in the Riverlands for a long time; I want to know about any rumor of witches or other beings who can use magic.”

Victorio showed a thoughtful look; the information he had just heard from Maekar was astonishing. The theory of dragon blood running through the veins of the dragon lords was insane but also very credible with such a clear example before him.

Five thousand years of blood magic… That was such a long time that it could change anything, let alone a civilization based on blood magic, fire, and dragons like Old Valyria.

“Is Your Grace certain it wasn’t because of the incest?” Victorio asked in a calm tone.

Maekar shook his head and spoke in a determined tone. “If incest were the problem, Valyria wouldn’t have existed for five thousand years.”

Maekar’s certainty came from a clear example, that of the House of Habsburg of Austria. The House of Habsburg lasted nearly five centuries before inbreeding destroyed the line, and that was with marriages between close cousins.

If incest were truly the problem, Valyria wouldn’t have existed for five millennia; it would have been destroyed long before because of inbreeding. Even if Blood Magic had prevented cases of deformity, it would have been completely impossible to stop inbreeding from destroying Valyria.

Because of this, Maekar never thought inbreeding was a problem. Some might claim House Targaryen’s blood wasn’t pure enough, but currently House Targaryen wasn’t like the House Targaryen of centuries later.

Maekar’s and Gael’s bloodline was clear. Setting aside Maekar’s mother, both their lineages were pure enough to form bonds with dragons.

Victorio agreed with Maekar’s words. He looked with pity at the dead child before him and knew that its life had been taken before it could even draw its first breath.

“There are two witches in the Riverlands.” Victorio said in a calm tone. “A forest witch on the Isle of Faces, but she doesn’t care about fame or money; she’s always lived on that cursed island.”

“The second witch lives on the Red Fork, near Stone Hedge…” Victorio didn’t finish and looked at Maekar; the implications in his words were clear.

However, to Victorio’s surprise, the prince’s expression was cold and indifferent, but it seemed there was a flame of violence in his violet pupils.

To say Maekar was furious would be an understatement; there wasn’t a man in the world who wouldn’t be furious to have his son murdered before he was even born.

However, the more furious he grew, the colder he also became. Although his emotions told him he should burn down the entire House Bracken, his reason told him he should investigate first, so as not to be used as a weapon by others.

“Does House Tully, the Freys, or the Mallisters have ties to this witch?” Maekar asked in a chilling tone.

“I’ve heard rumors that the Freys keep in contact with the witch for some reason. The Tullys, being devout followers of the Faith of the Seven, have never gone near the witch; at least, that’s what the rumors indicate. As for the Mallisters, they have no apparent connection to the witch.” Victorio said, looking at Maekar with admiration.

The fact that Maekar had controlled himself and not burned everything in his path already showed the prince had great control over his own feelings.

Maekar still wore a cold expression, his eyes fixed on his son’s body. Then, his lips curved into a smile that sent a chill through Victorio.

“Victorio, I will probably lose control of Bahamut sometime soon.” Maekar said, looking at the Maester without hiding his malice.

To avenge his son’s death, Maekar was prepared to cleanse the Riverlands of these rebellious houses. At this moment, Maekar would rather kill a thousand than let one escape.

The Maester of Harrenhal looked at the furious prince and lamented the stupidity of the noble houses who had either orchestrated this or would simply be killed for being in the wrong place. Maekar’s reputation for being decisive was already well known.

Maekar hadn’t hesitated to kill Matthos or Loreon. What were these lesser noble houses in comparison? Not to mention Maekar truly wanted to kill this time. The death of his son made the prince show a side every Targaryen possessed: the madness of the flames.

“I will prepare the charge of treason.” Victorio said in a calm tone. Old Maekar didn’t care; that authority belonged to House Tully. House Tully wouldn’t dare breathe a word out of fear of drawing the prince’s attention.

Victorio knew the true Lord Paramount of the Riverlands was House Targaryen of Harrenhal. As for House Tully, even if they survived the destruction to come, they wouldn’t even dare ask the king for help, for fear of angering the prince.

Victorio looked back at the deformed baby’s body. He looked at Maekar and asked in a slow, calm tone. “My prince, should I prepare a wake for the prince?”

“No need, it will only be Gael and myself present, we can hold the funeral ourselves.” Maekar shook his head and took his son into his arms. “He will be buried as a dragon lord, cremated beneath dragonfire.”

Victorio wasn’t surprised. Ever since Aegon the Conqueror was cremated by Vhagar’s flames, it had become a common ritual to burn the descendants of House Targaryen.

“I will build the headstone; what name should I put?” Victorio asked again.

Maekar seemed sorrowful at the mention of the name but spoke in a calm tone. “Baelor.”

He had chosen the name in honor of the future Daeron II’s son, Baelor Breakspear.

Victorio, of course, didn’t know the origin of the name and just nodded. Seeing the prince still lost in thought, he left the dark room in silence. Leaving the father mourning with his son.

Maekar took a deep breath and looked at the white cloth wrapped around his son; his violet eyes seemed almost mad. He wondered how many people he would have to burn for people to obey him.

The prince knew there was something wrong with having these thoughts, but seeing his son murdered by a witch on the orders of these lords who thought themselves gods made Maekar’s blood boil with the purest fury. If he didn’t purge this fury, Maekar felt he could climb onto Bahamut and burn the entire continent to ashes.

Holding his son against his chest, Maekar left the dark room.

As they walked down the corridor, the servants just lowered their heads and greeted him with “my prince,” “my lord,” or “Your Grace.”

Maekar said nothing in response and returned to the room, where he found Gael eating soup with slow, listless spoonfuls. The young woman was still frighteningly pale, with a rather empty look in her eyes.

Seeing this, Maekar knew he had to be strong and help Gael pull out of her depression.

“Gael…” Maekar sat down beside Gael and held her hand firmly.

Hearing her husband, Gael raised her head and looked at Maekar, who held their dead son in his arms. Gael’s eyes turned red seeing the scene. She had dreamed the night before that their son was fine and laughing in his father’s arms, but reality was cruel to her.

“Maekar.” Gael touched her son’s head tenderly and spoke in a gentle tone.

“I will avenge our son.” Maekar spoke in a calm tone, but his voice was icy and chilling.

Gael showed a confused expression. She still didn’t know that the child in her womb had been murdered.

Seeing this, Maekar explained, in a calm tone, the conversation between him and Victorio.

However, if Maekar could keep his coldness under control, the same couldn’t be said of Gael. Upon learning that her child had been torn from her womb by the actions of others, there was only one thought in her mind.

“Vengeance.”

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Read my other books:

House of The Dragon:The Rise of the Emperor of the Seven Kingdoms

Game Of Thrones: The God-Emperor of Planetos

Percy Jackson: Godwyn the Golden.

Game Of Thrones: The King’s Court Wizard