"Rhaenyra!"
Viserys murmured, breaking into a cold sweat for the predicament his eldest son was about to face.
…
As the lively music played, many dance partners began to blur the lines between propriety and flirtation.
"Oh~~"
Jenny let out a soft cry as she was stepped on once again.
Rhaegar remained expressionless, too tired to even bother apologizing.
"Don't rush. Dancing requires focus."
Jenny forced a smile, sweat forming on her back.
If she hadn't experienced it firsthand, she would have found it hard to believe that the man before her was the same lone warrior who had once stood, bloodied but unyielding.
Rhaegar's movements were stiff. One hand rested on Jenny's waist, the other on her back.
His footwork was a mess, showing none of the agility he displayed in battle.
His brow was furrowed so deeply it was almost knotted.
Right now, he just wanted the music to end quickly so he could go back and finish his grapes.
"Rhaegar!"
Rhaenyra's cool voice rang out.
Both Rhaegar and Jenny turned their heads toward her.
"Jenny, perhaps you should find a different dance partner."
Rhaenyra approached, pulling Rhaegar behind her, her gaze locking onto Jenny's.
Meeting her stare, Jenny felt a chill—an unmistakable hint of hostility. She took a cautious step back.
Rhaenyra placed Rhaegar's hand on her waist and gave a fake smile. "If you want to learn to dance, I'll teach you."
"Forget it."
Rhaegar could tell she was angry and didn't want her to do anything irrational.
Stepping on two ladies in one evening was hardly gentlemanly.
Jenny hesitated for a moment and also tried to intervene. "Rhaenyra, why don't we take a break and rest for a while?"
"Shut up!"
Rhaenyra snapped, grabbing a nearby servant carrying a tray of wine. She pointed at a goblet of red wine and threatened, "Say one more word, and I'll pour this all over your white dress."
Jenny gasped, immediately covering her mouth.
At this moment, Rhaenyra resembled a lioness protecting her cub, exuding an intimidating aura.
Jenny chose to back down, turning and leaving without hesitation.
Rhaenyra let out a cold snort and shifted her gaze back to Rhaegar, scolding, "Pathetic!"
Rhaegar looked innocent but dared not argue.
Forget Jenny—he, fearless as he was, also feared Rhaenyra in this state.
Rhaenyra wrapped her arms around his waist, forcing his hands to rest on her own. She warned him sternly, "Dance. If you step on me, I'll cut off your toes."
"Alright, alright, just calm down first."
Rhaegar quickly complied, lowering his voice to soothe her.
…
Stepping away from the dancing crowd, Jenny's heart pounded, excitement and anxiety swirling inside her.
For a brief moment, she couldn't bring herself to face Rhaenyra.
She knew—this was probably what people meant by a guilty conscience.
Placing a hand over her rapidly rising and falling chest, Jenny steadied her thoughts and shifted her gaze to the king seated at the head of the hall.
If she was getting nowhere with Rhaegar, she would approach this from a political angle.
"Your Majesty, what do you think about my request to join the Small Council as an advisor?"
Approaching Viserys with poised elegance, Jenny inquired with a soft, composed voice.
She had, as Alicent suggested, brought up Rhaegar's marriage.
But neither party had spoken outright, keeping the exchange subtle.
Even if it didn't work out, neither side would lose face.
Viserys glanced at his son, nervously dancing, and flashed a bright smile. "No problem. You can learn a great deal from the Small Council."
He agreed to let Jenny stay in King's Landing.
It was a minor condition in the larger scheme of a potential marriage alliance.
The rest would depend on whether Rhaegar developed feelings for Jenny.
Rhaegar was not like Rhaenyra.
Unlike his sister, his choice of a spouse didn't need to be backed by immense political power.
To some extent, Viserys wanted to respect his son's personal wishes.
Jenny caught the hidden implication in his words and took a seat.
Her gaze shifted to Alicent, seated beside Viserys.
Rhaenyra hadn't minded her inviting Rhaegar to dance at first.
Someone must have stirred the pot.
Alicent turned slightly, speaking softly to her husband. "Viserys, the children are grown. We should start arranging their marriages."
She had received favors—it was time to deliver results.
Viserys looked around evasively and said, "I promised Rhaenyra that she would decide her own marriage."
"You know I'm talking about Rhaegar and Aegon."
Alicent clearly didn't want her husband to change the subject and continued, "Both boys are getting older. It's time to find them good matches."
"I recall your uncle's family has a daughter. Do they have ambitions of marrying into the royal family?"
Viserys instinctively assumed Alicent was trying to secure benefits for her family.
"No, there are many eligible ladies in Westeros—not just the Hightowers."
Alicent leaned in close to her husband's ear and whispered, "What about Aegon marrying Jeyne?"
Viserys was momentarily stunned. He looked at his wife in shock.
Blinking a few times, he suddenly burst into laughter. "Hahaha! You really know how to joke, Alicent!"
He glanced at the dignified and elegant Jeyne, then at Aegon sulking in the corner, drinking heavily.
Viserys couldn't help but laugh.
Setting aside whether their statuses were a good match—
Even drunk, he wasn't foolish enough to arrange a marriage between his second son and the heir of a great house.
A second son could bring disaster to a kingdom.
That would be a hundred times more disruptive than naming Rhaenyra, a woman, as heir.
Seeing her husband's unrestrained mockery, Alicent's expression darkened. She muttered under her breath, almost inaudibly, "Then what about Rhaegar and Jeyne?"
"Is the joke over yet?"
Viserys didn't give a direct answer. Instead, he glanced subtly at Jeyne's expression.
Jeyne suddenly stood up and excused herself politely. "I'm not good with alcohol—I'll take my leave."
"Rest well, Lady Jeyne," Viserys said courteously.
Jeyne smiled faintly, her peripheral vision catching a glimpse of Rhaegar leaving the dance floor before she exited the banquet hall.
She didn't hear what Alicent said next.
According to their agreement, Alicent would broach the topic of marriage on her behalf.
It was time for her to step away.
…
After finishing the dance, Rhaegar returned to his seat, finally able to catch his breath.
He swore he would never accept another invitation to dance.
He was afraid Rhaenyra would cut off his toes.
As if sensing his thoughts, Rhaenyra shot him a sharp glance, her expression unfriendly.
"Uh… I'm tired. I'll head back to rest," Rhaegar muttered, unable to withstand her gaze, and reluctantly got up.
He still had to deal with the peace envoys from Dorne and needed to conserve his energy.
"Get some sleep," Rhaenyra reminded him softly, watching his figure disappear around the corner.
…
The dimly lit corridor was illuminated by the faint glow of oil lamps flickering on the walls.
Rhaegar walked slowly, replaying the events of the banquet in his mind, arriving at a single conclusion.
Jeyne was after him.
"Rhaegar."
A voice called from behind.
Jeyne stood in front of a door, looking at him hesitantly.
Rhaegar turned to her, his gaze questioning.
Jeyne pointed toward the room, a trace of fear appearing on her face as she spoke timidly, "There's a rat inside. A big one."
After a brief pause, she added, "All the attendants are still in the hall. Can you check for me?"
Rhaegar's eyes flickered as he analyzed the truth of her words.
After spending a month with Lannino, he had learned quite a bit.
For instance, when a man wanted to lure a beauty into a room, he would claim there was a fire-breathing dragon inside.
That's exactly what Lannino would say.
Using that trick, he had managed to sleep with quite a few "beautiful men."
After a moment of contemplation and seeing the growing disappointment in Jeyne's eyes, Rhaegar sighed.
"You win. I'll go in."
Jeyne was, after all, a guest—and she had the blood of his maternal family.
Both courtesy and duty dictated that he couldn't ignore her.
The Red Keep did have a lot of rats.
They were bold enough to sleep beside people in their beds.
When he was a child, a rat had even scratched him.
"Thank you," Jeyne said quickly, stepping aside to let him through.
Rhaegar glanced inside. The room was pitch dark, save for the flickering glow of the fireplace.
Entering, he lit a few tallow candles mounted on the wall.
"Where's the rat?"
He scanned the room, searching for any sign of it.
Jeyne didn't answer.
Instead, the door slammed shut with a bang.
Rhaegar's ears twitched. He immediately turned around.
A soft body crashed into his chest, arms wrapping tightly around his waist.
*Smooch*
Just as he was about to speak, warm lips sealed his mouth, and a delicate tongue pried open his lips.
Rhaegar's mind buzzed, and his eyes widened in shock.
In his sight was Jenny's flushed face.
Not only did she retain her usual noble elegance, but she also exuded an added charm and allure.
As his blood rushed, Rhaegar didn't immediately pull away.
The passion lasted for quite a while before the two slowly separated.
Their chests pressed together, feeling each other's heavy breaths.
Jenny's face was bright red as she reached to unbutton Rhaegar's clothes and whispered, "Stay here tonight, will you?"
Rhaegar grasped her hands, battling an intense inner struggle, forcing himself to stay rational. "You shouldn't waste your time on me."
As he spoke, he tried to create some distance.
"Rhaegar, you're a thief."
Jenny stepped forward, reaching behind her back, her voice firm. "You saved me, but you also stole my heart."
As her words fell, so did her white gown.
The dress caught at her waist, revealing a pair of proud, snow-white peaks.
The sudden display of beauty made Rhaegar's breath hitch, his eyes darkening with desire.
So dazzlingly white—abundant and generous.
Jenny opened her arms, wrapping them around Rhaegar's neck, her voice full of emotion. "Rhaegar, stay tonight. I, and the Vale, are yours."
Relying on an indecisive king and a scheming Alicent was clearly the wrong choice.
Seeing Rhaenyra's reaction, she decided to take the initiative.
She abandoned unnecessary schemes and manipulations, opting for a direct approach.
Rhaegar stared straight at Jenny, and in her pupils, he saw his own reflection.
He admitted it—shamefully, his heart wavered.
If he agreed, he could gain both power and beauty.
How many people could resist such temptation?
Jenny gazed at Rhaegar as well, her desire no less than his—perhaps even stronger.
She was three years older than Rhaenyra and eleven years older than Rhaegar.
In the past, she couldn't securely hold the title of Duchess, nor dare to propose a marriage alliance.
Jasiph could soothe her loneliness, but he couldn't satisfy her body.
She had been waiting for the right candidate to become her husband.
At the heir selection ceremony when Rhaegar was six, she had set her eyes on the boy.
Time passed, and Rhaegar had grown.
Now, she was determined to make him her husband.
Seeing his silence, Jenny stood on her tiptoes, her red lips slightly parted as she slowly leaned in.
"No!"
At the critical moment, Rhaegar suddenly snapped back to his senses and forcefully pushed the fragrant, breathy Jenny away.
Under her shocked gaze, he took off his outer robe and draped it over her, speaking rapidly, "I appreciate the offer, but I must stay true to my heart."
With that, he swiftly turned and left.
The door slammed shut with a loud *bang*.
Facing the corridor, Rhaegar immediately bumped into a soft body.
(End of Chapter)