HOTD: The Healer Prince SI Chapter 22 (Patreon)

Chapter 22

AENYS TARGARYEN

Aenys walked towards the guest Hall, his pace slow yet sharp as his mind raced to understand the implication behind this visit. His head guards stood attention as he walked past them towards the doors of the guest Hall.

He struck open the doors and stopped as he watched the people who had come to visit him. And recognize them he did.

It was Edmund Colero, a stout man with a protruding belly dressed in a gold-colored tunic matching his hair. The man was one of the wealthiest magisters from Lys, or at least had been till Aenys had decided otherwise. The man stood up with a smile.

“Ahh, my prince. It is so good to see you,” said the man as he welcomed me. The person by his side was less enthusiastic. He was dressed in a white tunic. And his eyes were glinting in rage as he looked at Aenys, and Aenys did not miss the slight tightening of fists of the man as he walked into the room. He was Lebouf Norbon, the infamous Magister of Myr—a supposed relative of Cragas Drahar himself.

Aenys walked towards the men and didn’t shake the offered hand. He saw Colero’s eyes tighten as his attempted handshake was rebuffed.

“As much as I would like to share your sentiment, I fear it will not be possible,” Aenys began, his voice cool and sharp, and he saw the smile vanish from Colero’s face as soon as the words left his mouth. Lebouf fists balled up as he glared at him. Aenys paid the man no mind as he continued.

“I have offered you bread and salt, but that doesn’t mean I wish to see your faces. So, say what you have to so we can all go on with our lives,” Aenys began as he sat down.

“You bastard, you destroyed our liv….” Lebouf began to scream but was stopped by Colero as he raised his hand, stopped his ally from shouting, and whispered quietly in his ear. The man became quiet, and then they both sat down, and Colero began.

“It is unfortunate that we meet again in such dire circumstances. I can understand your anger, so I will get straight to the point, my prince,” spoke the man slowly.

“We have done business for you for over a decade, my prince. You have delivered our children. Cured us and our families of disease and have traded with us. You even saved my brother’s life,” the man said with a smile, and it was true. His brother had been poisoned, and Aenys had cured the man with activated charcoal.

“And we believe that this relationship can continue further, despite the accident….”

“Murder,” Aenys cut him off. His eyes narrowed.

“Not accident. Murder!” he corrected, and he saw the man gulp.

“And I believe you are wrong, Colero. I healed you and your families. I traded with you freely both my medicine and knowledge. And yet you all backstabbed me when your little pet attacked my Aunt’s ship. So, I remain skeptical that our relationship can continue any further,” Aenys finished and saw Colero’s companions’ eyes flint in rage. The reason was more obvious, he had been the biggest beneficiary of Cragas, and Aenys had known that, and hence he had been the one to bear the full brunt of his rage.

And he finally lost it.

“You inbred scum! You think you can destroy us! We will not let you rest in peace. We will destroy everything you hold dea….”

“Lebouf, that is enough!” intervened his companion. And then Colero looked at him.

“Prince Aenys, the loss of your aunt was tragic. Yet I can assure you that we never supported or sanctioned such an action. Drahar’s crew mistook her ship for a trading ship and attacked it. So, as a sign of our sincerity, we have brought you a gift,” said the man, and then he clapped his hands. And Aenys frowned as the gates to his guest room were opened once more.

And two hired Bravo since Bravos didn’t allow slavery; visiting magisters often hired Bravo when they came to Bravos. Two Bravo entered the room, and another man chained and covered in rags was brought into the room.

“Me and the rest of my companions understand that blood is owed to you for the loss you suffered. So, we make you an offering,” said the man as the man was brought in front of him, and Aenys finally recognized the man. His heart sped up, and his fists balled up as he recognized the burnt skin and signature helmet.

“The man responsible for Lady Maegella’s unfortunate demise. Cragas Drahar!” finished the man, and Aenys’s body was flushed with rage, and it took all the self-control he had not just to stand up and strangle the unconscious man right there.

“Consider it a sign of our goodwill,” finished the man as he leaned back. Aenys’s mind raced as he thought about the offer. Cragas Drahar was bloodied, and the man was unconscious, held up by the two bravo and the chains. He looked away from that scum pirate and scanned the two men sitting opposite to him. He looked at the two magisters sitting opposite to him as he considered his next move.

In the end, he decided to take the offering. His aim had always been Drahar, and now the man was in his grasp.

“Ohh, and I must warn you, Prince Aenys,” began Colero making him frown. “Certain people here in Bravos aren’t entirely happy with your presence in there,” said the man, and the meaning behind those words was clear enough.

Someone in Bravos was after him. A threat that he was unaware of. And he couldn’t let that go without his notice primarily since he had also heard a troubling rumor regarding that. He had built a life for himself here, and he wouldn’t let someone destroy it all.

So, he leaned back into his seat and spoke up.

“And you are aware of these men,” he questioned, and the man smirked.

“I cannot confirm or deny it, but we may have been approached by one of these men!” finished the man, and Aenys nodded before finally he tilted his hand.

“So, why don’t you tell me that name, and then we can talk?”

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VISERYS TARGARYEN

Viserys Targaryen sat in his solar as the maesters moved around him. The rot that had begun with a single finger had now spread to the hand, and the maesters remained as clueless about it as the day it had all begun. His loyal hand Otto stood to the side, tall and quiet as the Maesters went about their business. Otto had always been quiet, something which Viserys liked about the man, yet his silence had been more pronounced over the last months since the departure of his daughter Lady Alicent.

The same could not be said of the court, which was rife with rumors and whispers as they spoke of how the King had abandoned his brother, how the rogue prince refused to lift a finger to help his brother, and how the young prince had slain the mighty Vhagar. That wasn’t all, they whispered. They spoke words of treason and questioned the position of the heir.

“Your grace, the maggots, and cauterization have failed to yield any results. The rot has spread to the other fingers,” began Mellos as his acolytes sauntered around.

“Then what shall we do, Grand Maester,” commanded Otto from the side. Melos was a bit perturbed before he began.

“I believe that we have no other option but to amputate the rotten parts. This should stop the further spread of the rot,” and Viserys frowned at those words as he glanced down at the rotten flesh of his hands. Hiding the rot was easy with a glove, yet with two fingers cut, he could not hide it.

“Have your inquiries to the Citadel yielded any result,” Viserys asked, and Melos shook his head.

“I am afraid not, your grace. They are still searching, but at this time, they have not found anything similar,” and Viserys nodded.

“Leave us, Melos. Let me think,” he ordered, and the Maester bowed and then hurried out of his chambers with his whole crew of acolytes leaving him alone with Otto.

“It seems that the Maesters have no idea what to do. Tell me, Otto, what do you think I should do,” he questioned his leal hand. Otto took a second before he slowly began.

“The Maesters are hard at work, your grace. But there is another optio…” But Viserys cut him off.

“NO! I am not going to write to Aenys about this,” he said with finality in his tone.

He sighed as he thought of him: Aenys, his younger brother. There was merit to Otto’s proposal. After all he was perhaps the best healer in the world by some and might know more than the Maesters about his disease. Yet Viserys couldn’t call him, not after everything that had gone down between them.

“After everything that has happened between us, I believe it will be better if we don’t involve him in the matters of the realm again,” he elaborated, and Otto nodded. His face was still grim and expressionless, yet Viserys could tell a storm of emotions was boiling underneath him. And why wouldn’t there be?

“You must be worried about your daughter. Tell me, Otto, has there been any correspondence from Lady Alicent?” he questioned, and he saw his Hand still for a moment before he shook his head.

“Not yet, your grace. Yet Gwayne remains hopeful that a letter will arrive, despite though fear the Prince would have forbade her from writing to us,” came the reply, and Viserys shook his head.

“No, for all my brother’s faults, he wouldn’t forbid her from writing to her family,” he replied, and that was right. In the case of Daemon, he wouldn’t be so sure, but Aenys wasn’t like that. No, he was different. He always had been.

“Aenys is many things, but he is not cruel. He would never begrudge her this, and though it is a small assurance, I believe he would not mistreat Alicent,” he tried to assuage her Hand, and Otto was still for a moment before he slowly nodded.

“I pray so as well, your grace,” he replied. Viserys sighed as he looked at the fire, his mind racing to the same place it often did these days. To the days of old as he tried to find the reasons for his actions on that day. Tried to find a reason why he had not helped his kin on that day. And in all this time, the closest reason he had was this.

“You know our grandmother often said that of all her children and grandchildren, Aenys was the one who most resembled our grandsire. It was one reason he wanted Gael to marry him, knowing that he would care for her as our grandsire did,” he began leaving much of his dark thoughts unsaid. About how those very words often made him scarce. Of how when he looked into Aenys eyes, he was reminded of the apathetic eyes of their own grandsire.

“Though it is little solace, out of everyone, she did know him best. So, I believe he would treat Lady Alicent well. If you wish, you should write to her. I don’t believe he would forbid her from writing to her family,” he assured his hand, and Otto nodded.

“I will take it under consideration, your grace.”

He felt anger and fear as the court whispered in awe of the young Prince. Even after his exile, they spoke in awe of his accomplishments, fame, and wealth. And now of his bravery for his slaying of the mighty Vhagar.

Not for long, he thought, though. Not for long.

“How are the preparations for the war going,” he questioned Otto.

“The preparations are nearly complete, your grace. And I believe I have also had some rather disturbing news about the Stepstones as well,” Otto began, and Viserys frowned in surprise.

“What is it, Otto?”

“Though, I have not been able to confirm it. There are rumors that Cragas Drahar has been betrayed by his backers and has been killed,” and Viserys’s eyes widened at that.

“How did that happen?” he questioned as he motioned for Otto to move closer.

“There is no confirmation yet of your grace, but the rumors say that the magisters are using him as a scapegoat to assuage your brother’s wrath. From what we know, his retaliation had led to major losses to the fortunes of all of Drahar’s main backers,” and Viserys couldn’t help but shake his head at those words. Just per their Grandmother’s words. This was just like their grandfather.

“With Drahar dead, shall we still continue preparations for the war?” questioned Otto, and Viserys quickly nodded.

“Yes! His death changes little. The Stepstones need to be brought under control,” and with that, he stared into the crackling fire again.

“This war will be the biggest challenge of my reign, and I will not be found lacking,” he said as he stared into the flames. This war was a necessity. Not just to get rid of the pirate infestation but it was his crucible. It was his test, and it would be the forge that would shape him as a King. It would be an answer to all those who questioned his reign in the shadows,

“As you say, your grace. But is it wise to trust Prince Daemon as the commander? With the naval nature of this war, won’t Lord Corlys be a better choice?” questioned Otto, and his head snapped towards Otto as he replied.

“NO! Daemon will lead the war efforts, not Corlys. This is the Crown’s war, not House Velaryon, so that a Targaryen will lead it,” and Otto nodded.

“I understand, your grace. Does this mean that you plan to join the offense as well, your grace?” Otto questioned him, and Viserys’s eyes returned to the fire as he replied.

“Perhaps, I might!”

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Plot twist in the next chap!