Rhaego moved through the quiet corridors of Sunspear, his bare feet silent on the cool stone. The Sea Tower was asleep, but his mind refused to rest.
The parchment he had left on the desk still burned in his thoughts the names, plans, half-formed ideas about allies and the Reach and the North.
He needed to speak with Prince Doran.
But how?
The man's private chambers were heavily guarded. Even at night, Rhaego had seen the armed men posted at every entrance. He could not simply walk up and demand an audience in the middle of the night like some lost child.
And Rhaego could not afford to sound like a boy who had read too many stories.
He paused at the top of a wide staircase that led down toward the Water Gardens. His tail flicked once, restless.
Think. How do I even begin?
"My Prince, I wish to leave Dorne and seek the Tyrells because I remember things from a future that may or may not be true"?
He exhaled sharply.
Perhaps he should find Princess Ariane first.
If he could speak with her, she might help him arrange a proper meeting with her father.
At least then it would not look so sudden, so suspicious.
He continued down the stairs, debating with himself.
That was when he heard the voices.
His dragon hearing picked them up clearly… a woman's voice, sharp with frustration, and a man's voice, lower, pleading.
Rhaego stopped.
The voices were coming from the gardens below.
He followed the sound, moving quietly along the colonnade until he reached the edge of a moonlit terrace. Below him, partially hidden by flowering vines, stood Princess Arianne and a tall knight in white armor.
Rhaego did not know the man's name, only that he wore the familiar cloak of a Kingsguard.
Rhaego's stomach tightened. A Kingsguard? Here?
He knew he should turn around and leave immediately.
This was clearly private, and getting involved with a Lannister-sworn knight was the last thing he needed right now.
But his feet wouldn't move. The tension in their voices kept him rooted.
The knight looked distressed, his hands clenched at his sides.
"…you have been avoiding me for days," the man said, voice tight with hurt.
"You barely speak to me. You barely look at me. What have I done wrong?"
Arianne's arms were crossed, her expression tight but controlled. "You have done nothing wrong, Ser Arys," she said, quieter now.
"Ser Arys…" she said, choosing her words with obvious care, "things have become more complicated lately. I need time to think. My father has… new matters to consider. I cannot rush into anything right now."
Arys stepped closer, eyes pleading.
"But you said we would do this together. You said Myrcella was the rightful queen. You said I was your white knight…"
His voice cracked slightly. "Was all of that a lie?"
Arianne's jaw tightened. She looked away for a moment.
"It was not a lie," she said, gentler now.
"But I was angry then. Impatient. But I must be more careful. We both must. Give me time. Please."
The knight looked stricken, clearly wanting to argue further, but Arianne's tone left no room for it.
She exhaled slowly, rubbing her temple.
"I need time, Arys. Just… give me time. The plan is not dead. It is only… on hold."
The knight looked stricken.
Rhaego stood frozen on the terrace above, half-hidden by shadow. He had not meant to eavesdrop. But the words had come too clearly.
What the heck is happening? he thought.
Rhaego took a slow breath.
This is none of my business, he told himself. But I need to speak to her.
He pulled the long flowing cloth tighter around his body to better hide the hard ridges along his chest. Then move his tail tightly around his waist and secure it with the remaining length of cloth, letting it drape elegantly like part of his outfit.
The small budding horns were already hidden beneath his thick silver hair.
Okay, this is good enough. I didn't expect to see a kingsguard so I better hide myself.
He stepped on the terrace railing and dropped smoothly to the garden below. He landed lightly on his feet, the soft crunch of gravel loud in the quiet night.
Both Arianne and Arys turned sharply at the sound.
"Prince Rhaego," Arianne said, surprise flashing across her face before she masked it with practiced calm.
The knight's hand moved instinctively toward his sword hilt, then stopped when the princess recognized who it was.
Rhaego straightened, trying to look as though he had not just dropped from above like some kind of intruder.
"I apologize for interrupting," he said, keeping his voice calm and respectful. "I heard voices and… I thought there might be trouble."
Arianne recovered quickly.
"There is no trouble," she said smoothly. "Only a late-night disagreement between old friends."
The knight looked between them, clearly uncomfortable.
His eyes lingered on the boy's striking silver hair and the faint amethyst eyes that seemed to shine softly in the moonlight. He was tall for his age, still young, yet the princess had called him 'Prince Rhaego.'
Whoever this was, Arys realized with a sinking feeling, he was not someone a Kingsguard knight should interfere with.
"I should leave you," the knight said stiffly. He bowed once to Arianne, stiff and formal then turned and walked away without another word.
The garden fell quiet again.
Arianne let out a long breath and rubbed her temple.
"You heard most of that," she said. It wasn't a question.
"Enough," Rhaego admitted.
He stayed a respectful distance away. "I did not mean to intrude on something private."
She waved a hand, dismissing the apology, though her expression remained guarded.
"It was bound to happen eventually," she said carefully.
"Ser Arys and I… have had a complicated understanding. But recent events have made certain matters more difficult."
Arianne glanced at him, her dark eyes neutral.
"You are the reason things have become… more complicated," she added, choosing her words with obvious care.
"A living Targaryen prince under our roof changes the board in ways no one expected. My father is weighing many options now."
She did not say anything more.
Rhaego nodded slowly, sensing the deliberate distance in her tone. She was still deciding how much she could trust him.
He hesitated, then spoke, keeping his voice calm and measured.
"I came looking for something tonight," he said. "I… need to leave Dorne. I cannot stay here waiting every day."
Arianne's eyes widened slightly, genuine surprise flashing across her face.
"So soon?" she asked.
"You only just washed ashore. You are still recovering. My father has barely begun to speak with you properly. Why the sudden rush to leave?"
Rhaego looked down for a moment, tail curling once behind him before he stilled it.
"That's the thing," he said quietly.
"I need to speak with your father. But I cannot do it alone, and I don't know the proper way to request an audience in the middle of the night. It might be a selfish request… but I need it."
Arianne studied him carefully, her dark eyes narrowing just a fraction. She crossed her arms, clearly weighing his words.
"You want me to take you to him," she said, not quite a question.
There was a hint of suspicion in her voice. "In the middle of the night. Without warning. After only a week of being here."
She let the silence stretch for a moment, making him feel the weight of the request.
Then she exhaled slowly, shaking her head.
"You want me to take you to him," she said, not quite a question. There was a hint of suspicion in her voice. "In the middle of the night. Without warning. After only a week of being here."
She let the silence stretch for a moment, making him feel the weight of the request.
Then she exhaled slowly, shaking her head.
"You are either very brave," she said, "or very reckless. Perhaps both."
Her tone softened just a little, but the caution remained.
"Come with me. I will take you to my father. But be careful with your words, Rhaego. Doran does not like being rushed… even for a dragon prince."
Rhaego nodded, relief and tension mixing in his chest.
"Thank you, Princess."
As they walked side by side through the moonlit colonnade toward Doran's solar, the night felt heavier than before.
Rhaego could only hope he had not just made a dangerous mistake.