GOT: Conqueror Knight - 22 (Patreon)

Chapter 22: Have You Ever Lost a Husband?

Inside the bedchamber.

Daelyon strode in with Jaime and several others, while the Gold Cloaks escorted the maids in behind them.

He swept his gaze around the room. Almost nothing had changed since he had left.

Not seeing the person he was looking for, Daelyon turned his attention to the large bed at the far end of the chamber.

Elia still lay there with her eyes tightly shut, breathing evenly, showing no sign that the commotion had disturbed her sleep.

“She really can sleep through anything. Gods know how much of that stuff she took,” Daelyon muttered with a shake of his head.

Just then, a burst of babyish babbling reached his ears.

Daelyon stepped closer and looked down. The little Prince had apparently woken at some point and was lying quietly beside his mother, happily sucking on his fingers.

When he saw Daelyon approach, he showed no fear at all. Instead, he stretched out a tiny hand and waved excitedly at him.

“So you’re the one called Aegon.” Daelyon muttered as he held out one finger.

Young Aegon grabbed his index finger and swung it from side to side as though wielding a longsword.

“Ha! You’ve got some strength in you. Looks like the drug hasn’t affected you too badly.” Daelyon grinned, then grabbed Young Aegon by the back of his collar and lifted him like a kitten.

“Wah! Wah!”

The rough handling clearly hurt the ten-month-old Prince, who immediately burst into tears.

“L-Lord... that isn’t how you hold a child.”

Though frightened, one of the maids could not help speaking up. The look she gave Daelyon was filled with confusion.

Was this Hand of the King truly a Targaryen?

Why did it seem as though he was trying to kill the little Prince?

“You take him.”

Daelyon did not argue. He simply handed Young Aegon over to the maid, knowing perfectly well that he had never been any good at holding children.

Back when Maegor was only four months old, Daelyon had nearly broken the little brat’s arm. Visenya had chased him around with Dark Sister for an entire day afterward.

Once Young Aegon was safely in the maid’s arms, he immediately stopped crying and began squawking fiercely at Daelyon instead.

“Temper’s a lot like Maegor’s. Not bad.”

Rather than taking offense, Daelyon nodded in satisfaction.

It seemed there were still some promising ones among Aenys’s descendants.

Then he lightly flicked Young Aegon on the forehead. When the boy clutched his brow with tears in his eyes, Daelyon broke into a delighted grin.

“You. Go fetch a basin of water.”

Only then did Daelyon turn and give the order to one of the Gold Cloaks.

Before long, the water was brought in.

Under everyone’s astonished gaze, Daelyon abruptly picked up the basin and poured the entire thing straight over the sleeping Elia’s head.

“What the fuck are you sleeping for?!”

“How can someone your age sleep this soundly?!”

Splash!

A whole basin of cold water came down over her head, jolting Elia awake at once.

Her eyes flew open, and she was just about to erupt in fury when, through the haze, she saw a tall silver-haired figure standing beside her.

“R-Rhaegar!!!”

The Princess of Dorne cried out instinctively and lunged forward, throwing her arms around Daelyon.

“I knew it... I knew it! You’re a True Dragon! A True Dragon could never die in a place like that!”

As she spoke, tears streamed endlessly down her face, falling onto Daelyon’s white shoulder armor and sliding down the smooth metal plates.

“She’s too thin. How did a woman this skinny find the courage to bear two children one after another?”

Daelyon instinctively gave her a squeeze and found her painfully bony, without the slightest softness to her. His disappointment was immediate.

When she had been lying on her side earlier, her figure had looked as though there might at least be something there. He had not expected her to be nearly flat.

“You’re mourning at the wrong grave, woman.”

He roughly shoved Elia away and said coldly, “I’m your husband’s ancestor.”

The force sent Elia sprawling backward onto the bed.

This time, however, she finally saw the man before her clearly. He had the Targaryens’ signature silver hair and was every bit as handsome, but both his features and bearing were completely different from Rhaegar’s.

Most striking of all were those violet eyes, so unlike Rhaegar’s indigo ones.

They seemed to declare that the ancient Valyrian Bloodline flowing through his veins was even purer and nobler than Rhaegar’s.

Disappointment gave way to bewilderment as Elia looked around the room. Only then did she notice how many people had suddenly appeared, and she blinked in confusion.

“What... what is going on?”

...

“So you’re saying that delicious flower milk is actually very harmful to children?”

“Not only is it addictive, but it damages a person’s soul? It can even drive someone mad?”

“More precisely, it damages the nervous system.”

Seeing Elia’s blank expression, Daelyon fought down the urge to slap some sense into her and explained impatiently.

“That maid named Namei took money from Pycelle and tricked you into drinking the stuff. I don’t know what exactly they were trying to accomplish, but I’m sure we’ll find out soon enough.”

“Impossible!” Elia immediately became agitated. “Namei came with me from Dorne. We grew up together!”

“What can I say?”

Daelyon spread his hands. “Clearly, she chose golden dragons over friendship and loyalty.”

“Just as I’ve always said, the Dornish simply don’t have such precious qualities in their bones.”

“I’m Dornish too!” Elia snapped, glaring at him.

“I know.” Daelyon did not care in the slightest. “But I never said you had those qualities either.”

“What an insufferably rude man.”

After only a few exchanges, Elia’s opinion of this so-called “Undefeated Dragonrider” had fallen as low as it could go.

She did not believe for a moment that he was truly Daelyon Targaryen. Someone who had been dead for hundreds of years suddenly returning to life was simply too absurd.

If the Seven truly possessed such power, then Elia believed the person they ought to have brought back was her husband, Rhaegar.

Unfortunately...

The grief of losing him surged through her again, and Elia suddenly felt unbearable discomfort throughout her body.

“I... give me the flower milk!”

A numb, hollow craving seemed to seep out from her very bones. Abandoning all restraint, Elia shouted at the maids, “Hurry! I want it now!”

“But, Princess...” The maids exchanged uneasy looks. Not one dared take a step.

They were standing right under Daelyon’s gaze, with Gold Cloaks nearby holding spears and spiked maces.

“How dare you disobey me!”

Elia trembled with rage. Her soaked, thin gown barely concealed the pale skin beneath it.

Daelyon, however, had neither the mood nor the interest to look. He merely reminded her coldly, “I told you already. That stuff will only harm you and your son.”

“I don’t believe you! You made all of this up!”

Elia was clearly no longer thinking straight. She pointed at Daelyon and shouted, “Rhaegar and I have been drinking Milk of the poppy for a long time, and nothing ever happened before you appeared!”

“You must have been sent by the king to torment me!”

“I told Rhaegar long ago that his father was no longer fit to rule! Rhaegar is the only True Dragon! Under his rule, the Seven Kingdoms would enter an age of everlasting glory!”

“Quickly! Give me the flower milk, you beast!”

Elia grew more frantic with every moment, until she seemed nearly deranged. She even lunged forward and began tugging at Daelyon’s white cloak.

“Ser... should we fetch a maester?” Jaime asked hurriedly as the situation began to spiral out of control.

“No.”

Daelyon merely shook his head, his voice turning colder.

He had caught the important part of what Elia had said. She and Rhaegar had begun taking Milk of the poppy long ago. This was not something she had only started using recently because grief had overwhelmed her.

Now that he thought about it, this might have been a conspiracy against the royal family from the very beginning.

“Get out.”

He turned to Jaime and gave the order in a tone that allowed no argument. “Take all those fools with you.”

“But... Ser...” Jaime hesitated.

Leaving Daelyon and Elia alone together in the room hardly seemed wise.

Especially when one of them had only recently awakened after sleeping for more than two hundred years, while the other had only just become a widow.

Bards had sung this sort of tale to death.

“I know what I’m doing. Now get the hell out.”

Daelyon gave him no room to argue and simply raised a fist in front of Jaime.

You don’t have an ounce of self-restraint!

Jaime cursed inwardly, but the moment he saw the fist, he reflexively covered the back of his head. After hesitating for a moment, he waved to the others.

“Come on. We’re leaving.”

The Gold Cloaks did not dare disobey. They led the maids out with them, one of them carrying Young Aegon.

“Stop it, woman. Too much of that stuff will ruin your head.”

Once only the two of them remained, Daelyon looked down at Elia, who was still tugging at his clothes, and growled, “Do you fucking want to turn yourself into an idiot?”

“You don’t understand how I feel!”

Elia refused to listen. She only stared at him with bloodshot eyes and repeated, “Has your husband ever died? Has your husband ever died?!”

“Where the fuck would I even get a husband?!”

Seeing that she was completely beyond reason, Daelyon could no longer be bothered arguing. He seized both of Elia’s wrists firmly in his left hand, then lifted them just high enough that she had to stand on tiptoe to keep her feet on the floor.

Then, after adjusting his angle, he spread the fingers of his free hand and brought his palm down hard across Elia’s slender backside.

Smack!

“Mmm...”

The blow was anything but light, drawing a groan from her. A trace of clarity seemed to return to her eyes, only to be quickly replaced by an even stronger emotion.

Seeing the woman begin to twist strangely, Daelyon could not help muttering, “Fuck. She’s actually a masochist. Rhaegar really had it good, didn’t he?”

His hand did not stop.

Without hesitation, he delivered several more rapid slaps in succession.

Sharp cracks echoed through the chamber, while Elia’s cries grew increasingly loud.

Outside, Jaime’s brow tightened at the sounds. More than once, he nearly lost his patience and barged inside.

But when he thought back over the past few days, Daelyon, for all his violent temper and crude manner, truly had been working for the sake of the royal family.

In the end, Jaime chose to trust him and forced down his unease.

Only after roughly ten minutes did the noise from inside gradually subside.

...

“Clear-headed now?”

Daelyon sat astride the head of the bed, looking down at Elia as she knelt before him, breathing heavily. He felt utterly exhausted.

This woman simply was not his type. If the quest had not required it, he would never have bothered wasting this much time on her.

“What exactly do you want, Lord?” Elia finally managed to raise her head. Her eyes had regained their clarity, and they now held both caution and a faint trace of reluctance.

This man was unlike anyone else. He had no ulterior motive at all. He had simply beaten her...

How captivating.

Unfortunately, he was most likely someone sent by the king.

She absolutely could not let slip that she and Rhaegar had recently conspired to rebel.

“Two questions.”

Daelyon paid no attention to whatever she might be thinking. He simply raised two fingers and went straight to the point.

“First, where exactly did Rhaegar send those three Kingsguard, and what mission did he give them?”

“Second...”

Under Elia’s wary, uncertain gaze, the corner of Daelyon’s mouth slowly curved into a smile that seemed anything but well intentioned.

“I heard them say... you have a daughter too, don’t you?”