The Round Hall served as the council chamber of Dragonstone.
At its center stood an eighteen-foot-long table, intricately carved with a map of Westeros' landscape.
It was here that Aegon the Conqueror had once planned his campaign to unite the Seven Kingdoms. Several glass candles decorated the corners of the room, though they were left merely as ornaments now.
With King's Landing fallen and the king dead, Rhaella was now the only one of House Targaryen able to make decisions.
She needed to consult with her advisors and come up with a plan. By the time Viserys followed Ser Willem into the Round Hall, the others had already gathered.
In truth, there were only two: Ser Lamy, the acting castellan of Dragonstone, and Maester Faelor.
Including Rhaella, Viserys, and the guard Williem, there were five people in total present.
But with Willem stationed outside the doors on guard duty, it left just four participants inside.
The atmosphere in the hall was bleak and heavy.
Rhaella frowned as she studied the map, her gaze lingering on Dragonstone and King's Landing, and occasionally drifting toward the Trident, as if she could catch a glimpse of her eldest son there.
"Your Grace, with King's Landing fallen, Dorne is far to the south, and the Reach is unlikely to continue supporting the crown. I believe we should attempt to negotiate with Robert."
It was Ser Lamy who spoke, the acting castellan of Dragonstone.
Though he spoke of negotiation, in truth he was advising surrender.
His family's seat at Duskendale was not far from King's Landing. If he could engineer House Targaryen's submission and avoid a destructive war, he might yet preserve his lands.
Rhaella remained silent. She knew that Robert Baratheon would never accept negotiations.
Aerys had murdered Eddard Stark's father and brother.
Rhaegar had taken Robert's betrothed.
And the two had grown up together in the Vale.
The feud between House Targaryen and House Baratheon was beyond reconciliation. But Rhaella had no one she could truly consult.
All she felt now was a profound helplessness.
Since marrying Aerys, she had never held real power; she had even been confined for a time. Now, thrust into managing a kingdom in utter ruin, it was only natural that she felt overwhelmed.
As for Maester Faelor, he too mourned Aerys' death.
But he was only a maester — what solutions could he possibly offer?
Thus, he chose silence.
As Rhaella hesitated, unsure what to say, Viserys suddenly spoke:
"Ser Lamy."
The acting castellan turned to face Viserys.
Ever since their first conversation, he had realized that the young prince was not an easy person to deal with.
"I want you to understand that in this world, there are only subjects who surrender — there are no kings who surrender."
Viserys locked eyes with Lamy, staring at him so intently that the older knight instinctively wanted to lower his gaze.
Lamy had thought about citing the example of Torrhen Stark, the King Who Knelt, but decided against it.
Queen Rhaella was kind, but somewhat weak. Even with only Dragonstone left to them, Viserys was poised to become the next King of House Targaryen.
No matter what he planned for the future, it would not be wise to antagonize the young prince now.
Seeing her son's resolute stance, Rhaella felt a sudden surge of steadiness within her. She too had no intention of seeking a "negotiated peace." She simply did not know how to voice it.
At that moment, Ser Willem entered the hall and bowed.
"Your Grace, Ser Gerold Hightower has arrived, along with Ser Arthur Dayne and Ser Oswell Whent."
Rhaella's eyes lit up instantly.
As if she could not believe what she was hearing, she asked, "Who did you say has come?"
Truthfully, even Willem had been shocked when he received the news from the guards. The three Kingsguard knights had been missing for quite some time. How had they suddenly arrived at Dragonstone?
"Your Grace, it is the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, Ser Gerold Hightower, and two other Kingsguard knights — Ser Arthur Dayne and Ser Oswell Whent."
Three of the seven Kingsguard knights had arrived at once.
Ser Gerold Hightower was the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, and the legendary Arthur Dayne's reputation needed no explanation.
Rhaella had great trust in the honor of these men, especially Arthur Dayne.
"Quickly, bring them in!" Rhaella said excitedly.
With three Kingsguard knights now on Dragonstone, she no longer felt so helpless.
Yet after the initial excitement, doubt crept into her mind. Why hadn't Rhaegar taken them with him to the Trident?
As Rhaella's joy showed on her face, Willem added:
"Your Grace, they have also brought a woman with them."
"A woman? Who?"
"Lyanna Stark."
.......
[Dragonstone Harbor]
The warships' masts rose like a dense forest against the sky.
Three knights clad in white cloaks, imposing and proud, rode a small boat toward the dock.
The soldiers guarding the harbor, upon learning of the arrival of three Kingsguard knights, were overcome with excitement.
Standing at the prow was the Sword of the Morning — Arthur Dayne. The Daynes bore a resemblance to the Targaryens in appearance, with their pale gold hair and violet eyes.
Arthur Dayne carried a greatsword across his back and stood tall and commanding, like the island's towering warships.
Wherever he passed, soldiers would gaze at him with awe and admiration.
The younger soldiers, in particular, looked upon him almost with worship.
"That's the Sword of the Morning, isn't it?"
"Of course! Didn't the captain tell us? Look at his white cloak! Look at the sword on his back!"
"Mother, I saw the Sword of the Morning!"
Arthur Dayne's arrival lifted the spirits of the garrison, who had been demoralized until now.
As for Ser Oswell Whent, who stood at the stern, he was clearly less renowned than Arthur. In fact, Arthur's fame even overshadowed that of the Kingsguard's Lord Commander, Gerold Hightower.
Within the cabin, separated by a curtain, Gerold Hightower, known as the White Bull, called out:
"Lady Stark, we have arrived at Dragonstone."
The White Bull was aptly named — tall and broad-shouldered, standing well over six feet tall, clad in gleaming silver-white armor.
Simply seeing him was enough to inspire confidence.
Throughout the journey, Gerold had addressed Lyanna formally as "Lady Stark." Though Rhaegar had told him they were married, Gerold did not feel comfortable treating her as he had treated Elia.
Behind the curtain sat two women.
The one with the swollen belly was Lyanna, heavily pregnant.
Beside her was her handmaiden, Wylla.
Supported by her maid, Lyanna slowly rose to her feet. Her long brown hair was tied neatly behind her head, and her light-colored eyes showed signs of exhaustion.
Her face was pale, lacking much color; were it not for the pregnancy, she might have appeared even more gaunt.
Their journey had begun at the Tower of Joy, traveling by carriage and then by ship.
Nearly a month of travel was grueling for any pregnant woman. Had Lyanna not grown up training alongside her brothers, she might not have endured it.
Her physical resilience was her saving grace — but another force kept her going:
A letter from King's Landing.
It read: "Prince Rhaegar is gravely wounded. Come to Dragonstone immediately."
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