GOT King of Dragon

Viserys delivered many courteous words, soothing the vassals who had traveled from afar. 

The nobles were equally gracious. When the king finished his speech, they clapped and cheered enthusiastically. 

Once the excitement subsided, Prime Minister Lyonel stepped forward to preside over the assembly. 

He cleared his throat and stated the purpose of the meeting. 

"My lords and ladies, today marks the last day of the year, and we are here to convene the long-awaited Succession Council!" 

The nobles' expressions varied. 

Duke Jason Lannister of the Lannister family was visibly pleased, whispering to those nearby about whether the princess, having lost her claim to the throne, might now accept his courtship. 

After all, the status of a Targaryen princess was immensely valuable—not just for royal favor but also for adding the dragonblood lineage to a family's descendants. 

In contrast, Duchess Jeyne Arryn of the Vale had a somber expression. 

Jeyne, 17 years old, was Rhaenyra and Rhaegar's cousin and a tall beauty with curly brown hair. 

As a woman, she had always been one of Rhaenyra's staunchest supporters. 

They were both women who faced skepticism from men and thus found solidarity in one another. 

"It's a pity Rhaenyra lost her claim to the throne," Jeyne said quietly, her expression melancholic as she spoke to the middle-aged man standing beside her. 

The man was Ser Yobert Royce of Runestone, the current Warden of the Vale and the assistant to the Duke of the Vale. 

Yobert's face was grave as he lowered his voice, saying, "With the king having a son, this council was inevitable." 

"..." 

Other dukes from across the realm also filled the room. 

The Stark Duke of the North and the Baratheon Duke of Storm's End both looked indifferent, as if the question of succession had little to do with them. 

And truthfully, it didn't. 

The Starks rarely ventured south of the North. 

Meanwhile, the Baratheon Duke had once been a supporter of Princess Rhaenys, the "Queen Who Never Was." They were cousins. 

The elderly Duke Tully of the Riverlands and the Duke Tyrell of the Reach, however, watched the proceedings with cheerful smiles. 

They were staunch supporters of House Targaryen and preferred a male heir to inherit the throne. 

Lyonel's speech concluded quickly, and it was time for the event's main figures to appear. 

Under the gaze of countless nobles, Viserys walked out, smiling as he held Alicent's shoulder. 

Lyonel stood beside them, his expression serious. 

"Where are the princess and the prince?" 

"Why hasn't anyone called for Their Highnesses yet? Have they been forgotten?" 

"..." 

The atmosphere turned tense. As the princess and prince failed to appear, murmurs spread throughout the crowd. 

"My lords and ladies, there's no need to worry. The princess and prince are on their way," Lyonel said at the perfect moment, dispelling some of the confusion. 

The nobles exchanged puzzled glances, unsure of what the Prime Minister meant. 

"On their way"? 

Could it be that the princess refused to give up her claim and was boycotting the council? 

"Perhaps we're in for some drama," someone in the crowd murmured. 

That single comment caused an uproar as more nobles began whispering among themselves. 

Their gazes frequently shifted to the pavilion where the king and queen were seated, as if eagerly anticipating a royal scandal. 

**Whoosh—** 

Suddenly, a strong gust of wind swept through the garden, making the trees sway and scattering blades of grass. 

Everyone looked up instinctively toward the sky from which the wind had come. 

"Screeeech—" 

A piercing cry echoed across the heavens. Under the watchful eyes of the crowd, a golden silhouette broke through the clouds, diving toward the towering Red Keep. 

"It's a dragon!" 

Those with keen eyesight quickly identified it as a massive dragon. 

"That's the princess's dragon, Syrax…" 

The nobles who frequently resided in King's Landing were familiar with the golden dragon in the sky. 

Rhaenyra often rode Syrax on her aerial adventures. 

But many nobles from the borderlands knew little about dragons. 

As they saw Syrax—larger than half the buildings below—descending rapidly, their faces turned pale with fear. 

This was, after all, a real dragon. 

A single blast of its fiery breath could claim the lives of everyone present. 

"Screeeech—" 

Sensing the attention, Syrax let out an exhilarated roar, spewing golden flames into the azure sky and showcasing its majestic form. 

Rhaenyra, clad in a formal gown of black and red, sat in the saddle. Her hands gripped the reins as she calmly surveyed the crowd below. 

"Land, Syrax," she commanded in High Valyrian, her tone cold and composed. 

After circling the Red Keep twice, Rhaenyra issued her command. 

"Screeeech—" 

With a loud cry, Syrax folded its wings and landed atop one of the keep's towers, its powerful claws crushing the brickwork beneath. 

Its brilliant golden eyes scanned the crowd below, its head tilting curiously. 

The nobles gazed up at the golden beast atop the tower, their expressions betraying unease. 

Being targeted by a dragon was never a good sign, no matter how one looked at it. 

After observing for a while, Syrax grew bored and shifted its gaze. 

At Rhaenyra's command, the dragon spread its wings once more and leaped off the tower. 

With a powerful sweep of its wings, it glided around the pavilion before landing steadily on an open patch of ground nearby. 

**Boom!** 

As the dragon landed, a gust of wind kicked up dust, forcing the nobles to instinctively step back. 

Viserys watched his slightly disheveled vassals, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. 

When he turned back, his gaze met Rhaenyra's as she sat astride the dragon. There was a gleam of encouragement in his eyes. 

Rhaenyra remained silent, sitting calmly in the saddle with her chin raised, as though the nobles below her were beneath her notice. 

"Heh, is this supposed to be intimidation?" 

Standing before the group, Jason Lannister, who had been covered in dust by the gust, barely managed to steady himself with the help of an attendant. He muttered a sarcastic comment under his breath. 

A dragon was indeed formidable—he admitted to being startled. 

But so what? 

A woman, even if she commanded a dragon, would ultimately be conquered by a man. 

Jason's gaze locked onto Rhaenyra, filled with greed and desire. 

He was still young and unmarried. 

With the princess now stripped of her claim to succession, she was likely distraught—a perfect opportunity for him to swoop in. 

Given his status as the Duke of the West, perhaps he could capture the heart of this fallen princess. 

"Ladies and gentlemen, the princess has arrived. The prince will be here shortly!" 

Laenor straightened the creases in his attire and made the announcement with measured formality. 

If this was meant to be a display of strength, it would not be limited to one dragon. 

"Craaack…" 

Before the nobles could fully process his words, another thunderous roar echoed through the sky, piercing their eardrums. 

**Whoosh—** 

A fierce wind blew past, and the once-clear sunlight was obscured by a massive gathering of dark clouds, casting half of the Red Keep into shadow. 

"A dragon! Another dragon!" 

"Where did this black dragon come from? Is there such a massive black dragon in King's Landing?" 

"…" 

Those with sharp eyes looked up, and what they saw left them stunned—a colossal creature, as imposing as a mountain of coal, entered their view. 

Its scales were black as charcoal, its eyes gleamed with a sinister green hue, and its curved horns were gray and menacing... 

Every feature confirmed it was a full-grown dragon with a notoriously savage nature. 

The rest of the nobles, hearing the commotion, looked up as well and froze in fear. 

"Craaack…" 

The Devourer burst through the clouds, following Syrax's path. Its green dragonfire streaked across the sky like spilled ink as it circled above King's Landing. 

Larger and even more intimidating, the black dragon made its grand entrance, leaving an overwhelming impression. 

In an instant, the attention of every citizen in King's Landing was drawn to the emerald-eyed black dragon. 

"A black dragon… Is that Balerion the Black Dread?" 

Those unfamiliar with dragons were filled with terror, mistaking it for Balerion, the dragon that had once conquered the continent. 

Balerion's dragonfire had burned every corner of the Seven Kingdoms, and its legend was known far and wide. 

"Heh, there's no need to be afraid, my lords. This dragon is the Devourer, tamed by my eldest son, Rhaegar. It's the largest wild dragon from Dragonstone!" 

Viserys beamed as he introduced the dragon to the visibly shaken nobles. 

*(End of Chapter)*