After exchanging only a few words, Yara was called away by other noble ladies and madams.
Before Rhaegar could take a sip of water, a tall, elderly man with graying hair approached, accompanied by a young man and woman.
Embroidered on the collars of their garments was a tower-shaped emblem: a yellow burning tower atop a black triangle, set against a fiery red background.
It was the coat of arms of the Graffson family, the ruling noble house of Seagull Town.
The elderly man gave a slight bow, his face carrying a warm smile. "Your Highness, I, Glyn Graffson, extend my greetings."
"You just greeted me a moment ago, Lord Glyn."
Rhaegar rose from his seat and nodded in return.
The purpose of this visit was to secure Seagull Town's support, so a cordial attitude was best.
Seagull Town boasted a naturally sheltered harbor, located southeast of the Eyrie, along the shores of Crab Bay, and south of Runestone.
It was one of the five major cities on the continent of Westeros.
Comparable in scale to White Harbor, though not quite as grand as Lannisport, Oldtown, or King's Landing.
The Graffson family was one of Seagull Town's most prominent noble houses, possessing considerable wealth and influence.
"Your Highness, it has been some time since we last met. You have grown even more handsome and distinguished."
Lord Glyn spoke amicably as he introduced the young man and woman behind him. "These are my grandchildren, Joffrey and Jonael."
Rhaegar turned his gaze toward them.
The siblings appeared to be around sixteen or seventeen years old.
Joffrey was handsome, with the Graffson family's signature black curls and light gray eyes.
Jonael was equally beautiful, her figure graceful and elegant.
What surprised Rhaegar the most, however, was Jonael's striking appearance—she had silver-gold curls and violet eyes.
The classic features of Valyrian ancestry.
"Miss Jonael's hair color…"
Rhaegar hesitated, looking toward Lord Glyn.
The old man chuckled, his eyes gleaming. "My mother was Lady Prudence of House Celtigar. Jonael has inherited her great-grandmother's Valyrian traits."
"I see. Miss Jonael is truly stunning."
Rhaegar feigned surprise, generously complimenting her.
It was only then that he recalled the historical ties between House Graffson and House Celtigar.
After all, the Graffsons were immensely wealthy, and many high-ranking noble families had willingly allied with them through marriage for financial gain.
Even the brief histories of House Targaryen recorded that Lady Prudence had once saved his great-grandmother, Queen Alysanne.
With that thought, Rhaegar's smile became more genuine, and he engaged in conversation with greater enthusiasm.
Jonael stood beside her brother, her head slightly lowered, cheeks flushed as she stole shy glances at Rhaegar.
After the usual pleasantries were exchanged, Rhaegar got straight to the point, speaking solemnly:
"Lord Glyn, the kingdom is on the verge of war with the Three Daughters. We need your family's support."
"Your Highness, I have already received the raven's message."
Lord Glyn did not hesitate and responded decisively, "House Graffson of Seagull Town stands ready to fight for His Majesty and for you, my prince."
"Excellent! With your family's assistance, the kingdom will surely prevail against the Three Daughters' aggression."
Rhaegar's impression of the elderly nobleman soared.
The kingdom needed vassals willing to stand by them in critical times.
"Your Highness, I must catch up with a few old friends. You young ones are quick-witted and will surely find much to talk about."
With that, Lord Glyn took his leave, leaving his grandchildren behind.
As soon as the elderly man departed, an awkward silence settled between the three of them.
"Your Highness, may I pour you some wine?"
Jonael's voice was soft and demure as she carefully lifted the wine jug, her large eyes filled with shyness.
"Thank you."
Rhaegar rarely drank, but out of courtesy, he took a small sip—only to feel even thirstier.
Lord Glyn had readily agreed to support them and had even left his grandchildren behind to accompany him. Rhaegar understood the implication.
He stole another glance at Jonael.
She was indeed a beautiful young woman, and her Valyrian features made her feel somewhat familiar to him.
But Rhaegar was not particularly fond of overly timid girls.
Letting his thoughts drift, he shifted his gaze to Joffrey and spoke in a friendly tone:
"Joffrey, I see you carry a sword at your waist. Do you practice swordsmanship?"
"Yes, Your Highness."
Joffrey appeared somewhat reserved but quickly replied, "I have studied both literature and swordplay since childhood."
The Graffson family was known for their strict upbringing and high expectations of their descendants.
Rhaegar waved a hand dismissively. "You're older than me by a bit—no need to be so formal. Just consider this a casual conversation."
After a moment's thought, he asked, "How skilled are you in swordsmanship? Have you considered becoming a knight?"
"I have, Your Highness."
Joffrey's eyes lit up momentarily, but the excitement faded just as quickly. He sighed, looking dejected. "My swordmaster says I have average talent and will struggle to achieve much."
"That's alright. Talent is important, but dedication and hard work are the true paths to success."
Rhaegar offered a few words of encouragement before extending an olive branch.
"Would you be interested in holding an official position?"
"I've only assisted my grandfather with bookkeeping and have never governed anything,"
Joffrey explained nervously, unable to hide his excitement.
"You can start as a cupbearer and observe how other ministers handle affairs,"
Rhaegar suggested, trying another approach to win him over.
He had no interest in marrying Old Glyn's granddaughter, so the best he could do was to promote his grandson. Rhaegar trusted that Old Glyn would understand the message.
After chatting with the siblings for a while, Lady Reya came downstairs and called for the attendants to prepare for the banquet.
The wedding banquet would take place in two days, but a welcoming feast for the visiting nobles had to be held beforehand.
At the feast, several long tables were set up.
As the crown prince, Rhaegar sat at the main table alongside Lady Reya, Jeryl—her betrothed—and other prominent nobles, including Old Glyn.
Lady Reya, as the host, sat with her fiancé Jeryl on one side.
Rhaegar, with his noble status, sat alone on the opposite side, directly across from the couple.
The people of the Vale were warm and boisterous, their loud cheers and lively conversations filling the hall with a vibrant atmosphere.
Rhaegar acted as a spectator, occasionally responding to toasts.
At the neighboring table sat noble ladies and young maidens.
Many young ladies were captivated by Rhaegar's handsome features, eager to find an excuse to approach him.
Once again, Old Glyn stepped in, claiming it was inconvenient for Rhaegar to pour his own wine and summoning Joffrey to serve as his cupbearer.
That move set off a chain reaction.
The attending nobles, with their daughters and granddaughters in tow, began finding excuses to parade them in front of Rhaegar.
Anyone seated at the main table wasn't a fool.
The news of the kingdom's impending war with the Three Daughters had already spread. Rhaegar's presence in the Vale made his intentions clear.
The Vale had always been a loyal supporter of the crown.
Now that the crown prince had come in person to rally his vassals, the nobles knew their duties extended beyond supplying troops—they also saw an opportunity to secure benefits.
And what greater benefit than an alliance through marriage?
By presenting their daughters and granddaughters before the crown prince, they hoped one might catch his eye.
Such a match would elevate their family to unimaginable heights.
Rhaegar, however, felt utterly helpless in the face of this situation.
The swarm of noble maidens surrounding him was indeed exciting, but their enthusiasm was overwhelming.
They were so eager to pour wine for him that a few nearly broke into a scuffle.
Yet, what difference would pouring wine make?
He didn't even drink!
A sudden *"Screeaaaach..."*
Halfway through the banquet, the roar of a dragon echoed above the castle.
A fierce gust of wind swept up dust and rattled the glass windows of the hall.
*(End of Chapter)*