Leaving the Duke's chamber, Rhaegar instructed the two knights to guard the door before heading straight out of the main tower.
"Where are the two sons of the old Tully?"
As he stepped out into the great hall of the main tower, Rhaegar asked while walking forward.
Grey Worm replied in a low voice, "They are in the Godswood. The two Tullys send people to duel there every day."
"Lead the way, I want to see for myself," Rhaegar ordered decisively.
Grey Worm complied without hesitation. He summoned a few Unsullied soldiers to accompany them and led the way toward the Godswood.
The Godswood of Riverrun was located in one corner of the castle.
It was a bright and refreshing garden, adorned with red trees, flowers, a meandering stream, and bird nests on the buildings.
Rhaegar and his group crossed the castle's inner river, which flowed around the main tower, stepping onto a small bridge that led into the Godswood.
**Clang!**
As soon as they approached, the sound of clashing steel rang out.
At that moment, the not-so-spacious Godswood was packed with people.
Two groups stood opposite each other, one from the north and the other from the south.
"Prince!"
A young black-haired boy standing on the outskirts spotted Rhaegar from afar and called out in excitement.
Rhaegar glanced over and said indifferently, "Elmon, you're out."
Elmon, the grandson of the old Tully, had written in a letter two days ago that he was being held under house arrest by his two uncles.
Elmon hurried over with a look of relief, as if he had survived a great ordeal. "It's all thanks to your guards, Your Highness. Without them, I wouldn't have been able to leave my room."
Rhaegar turned to give Grey Worm a glance.
Grey Worm nodded, silently confirming that he had helped Elmon escape.
Though Elmon claimed to be under house arrest, he wasn't truly restrained.
Not long after Grey Worm arrived at Riverrun, he sent men to make contact in secret, arranging for Elmon to leave his chambers.
The two sons of old Tully dared not stop him, nor did they particularly care about a mere boy, so they simply let him go.
Rhaegar examined Elmon's attire—still dressed like a noble young lord, unchanged in any way.
He frowned slightly and asked bluntly, "Your uncles confined you, and you just let them do as they please?"
Elmon lowered his head in shame and muttered, "They acted too suddenly. I didn't have time to react."
Rhaegar's tone grew colder as he pressed on, "Since you had a way to send letters, why didn't you contact the officers loyal to your father and turn the tables on them?"
Although the late eldest son of old Tully had been mediocre and incompetent, he had held the heir's position for over twenty years.
As his only son, Elmon would surely have had some loyalists willing to support him if he spread the word.
Faced with Rhaegar's questioning, Elmon looked bewildered and stammered, "My grandfather is just ill, not at that point yet..."
"Fool!"
Rhaegar's voice turned ice-cold as he berated him, pointing directly at his nose. "If it's not at that point yet, then why did you write to me, asking me to come to Riverrun and watch the show?!"
He was the Crown Prince of an entire kingdom. By rank and status, even a Duke like old Tully owed him respect.
Yet, instead of solving the problem himself, Elmon had reached out for Rhaegar's help first.
If matters like these required Rhaegar's intervention, then did the Tullys of Riverrun even deserve to be the Lords Paramount of the Riverlands?
Elmon trembled in fear, flustered and desperate to explain. "Your Highness, I—"
"Get out of my sight. I have no time for your nonsense."
Rhaegar shoved him aside and strode deeper into the Godswood.
Elmon stood frozen, lost and helpless, still hoping to step forward and apologize.
"Stand back, little Tully!"
Grey Worm's expression darkened as he raised his spear to block Elmon's path.
Elmon awkwardly stepped back, not daring to approach.
Hearing the commotion behind him, Rhaegar clenched his jaw and thought to himself, *What a useless brat.*
If the Tully family kept producing heirs like him for another two generations, the Crown might as well consider replacing them as Lords of the Riverlands.
Not only did they fail to govern the region properly, but they couldn't even handle their own internal affairs.
Keeping them in power was an embarrassment.
### Deeper in the Godswood
The two sons of old Tully stood at the head of opposing factions, locked in a tense standoff.
The second son, Milov Tully, was as thin as a twig, surrounded by a dozen knights clad in mismatched armor.
Most conspicuous among them were two monks, dressed in robes embroidered with the seven-pointed star.
Monks were key members of the Faith of the Seven, responsible for spreading the doctrine and guiding believers.
The two preachers at Harrenhal were also monks.
Opposing Milov stood his red-haired, pig-like younger brother, Edmure Tully.
Rhaegar glanced at Edmure and turned away in disgust.
The name *Edmure* carried weight in House Tully, comparable to the significance of *Aegon* in House Targaryen.
Giving such a name to this wretched, obese fool was a disgrace to their ancestors.
Like his brother, Edmure had gathered a large group of followers, mostly landless knights.
However, one man in particular caught Rhaegar's attention—a middle-aged warrior with striking gray-blue eyes.
He wore a set of finely crafted silver-gray armor, clearly expensive at a glance, with a broad heavy sword strapped to his waist.
On the corner of his armor, an insignia of a silver eagle in flight was branded.
It was the sigil of House Mallister of Seagard.
Seagard was a castle in the Riverlands, located at the Cape of Eagles, one of the few coastal strongholds in the region.
The members of House Mallister were known for their noble features and pride, having once been kings of the Trident before the Targaryen conquest.
Rhaegar studied the knight briefly but did not slow his pace.
The sound of his footsteps soon drew the attention of both sides, who turned to look.
"Your Highness… Your Highness…"
Recognizing the newcomer, the gathered men quickly bowed and greeted him.
Rhaegar had been acquainted with old Tully even before moving into Harrenhal, making him a familiar guest at Riverrun.
After the destruction of House Bracken, Rhaegar became the de facto ruler of the Riverlands. There was hardly anyone in the region who didn't recognize him.
Facing this group of incompetent fools, Rhaegar had no patience for small talk. With a wave of his hand, he motioned for them to step aside.
The two down-on-their-luck knights who had been dueling in the yard immediately retreated, slinking back to their respective employers.
A mere tournament match was worth only a few coins—certainly not worth the risk of offending the prince.
Rhaegar walked straight up to the middle-aged warrior from House Mallister and asked in puzzlement, "Earl Leymond, what brings you here?"
This man was no ordinary member of House Mallister; he was the head of the family and the ruling lord.
Rhaegar had encountered him several times before.
Earl Leymond was also one of the few Riverlands nobles who had not privately sworn allegiance to him.
According to Leymond, while he respected the crown prince, his loyalty belonged to the king alone.
A man of principle, with a strong sense of honor and personal charisma.
Rhaegar's strongest impression of him was from the Grand Tourney of 105 AC, where he emerged as the champion.
That was the very year Rhaegar was born—the same year his mother died in childbirth.
The tournament had been a grand spectacle, drawing knights from all seven kingdoms.
The biggest beneficiary and standout performer was none other than the former Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, Criston Cole.
Criston was a formidable warrior and an unexpected dark horse in the competition.
First, he shattered Harwin Strong's collarbone with a lance, solidifying Harwin's infamous title—"Breakbones."
Then, he successively defeated the Kingsguard twins, Ser Erryk and Ser Arryk Cargyll.
In the final rounds, he unseated Rhaegar's beloved uncle, Daemon, knocking the dark sister blade from his hands with a morningstar.
However, Criston's victory was cut short—he finished as the runner-up.
In the final duel, Leymond's greatsword severed the chain of Criston's morningstar, securing the championship.
A young Rhaenyra had once complained to Rhaegar more than once, saying that Leymond's sword was too fast and powerful, leaving Criston completely outmatched.
Because of this, Rhaegar held him in high regard.
Earl Leymond, carrying a helmet adorned with wing-like decorations on either side, gave a slight bow and answered in his deep voice, "Your Highness, I was invited here."
As he spoke, he cast a glance at Edmure Tully.
The message was clear—he had come at that fool's invitation.
Rhaegar couldn't make sense of it and asked directly, "What did he offer you?"
Earl Leymond's face darkened, and he gritted his teeth. "That old Tully bastard shamelessly arranged for my daughter to marry his youngest son."
The youngest son of old Lord Tully was none other than Edmure Tully.
Hearing this, Rhaegar immediately understood.
So, it was a son-in-law asking his father-in-law for a favor. No wonder Earl Leymond had come.
To be fair, old Lord Tully was truly thick-skinned, always putting his family's interests first.
Even a failure like Edmure had managed to marry a noble lady from a powerful house.
No surprise, considering House Tully's motto: "Family, Duty, Honor."
Family always came first.
Tilting his head slightly, Rhaegar carefully asked, "Earl Leymond, what made you agree to this match…?"
He didn't have the heart to say Edmure's name outright, fearing it would embarrass the man.
Earl Leymond's face turned even darker, almost as if it were dripping ink. His teeth ground audibly. "A few years ago, that pig was at least passable. He had some skill in combat. Old Tully deceived me."
Thinking back on how Lord Tully had been in such a rush to arrange the betrothal and hold the wedding—almost as if he wouldn't live to see another day, desperate to secure his son's marriage—it was now obvious why.
The old man had feared that, given enough time, Leymond would see Edmure's true nature and refuse to wed his daughter into House Tully.
"That cunning old fox!"
Earl Leymond clenched his fists, looking like he was about to storm into Riverrun's main tower and strangle Lord Tully himself.
Seeing this, Rhaegar silently stepped back, feeling a bit of sympathy for the man's frustration.
Lord Tully truly had no shame.
After a few more words of small talk, Rhaegar turned his attention back to Tully's two sons and said calmly, "I'm only here as a guest. Carry on with your duel—don't mind me."
Ser Milos and Edmure exchanged uneasy glances, finding it hard to believe their ears.
They both knew the prince had entered Riverrun.
After all, a massive black dragon had circled above the castle—only the blind or deaf could have missed it.
Yet, they had both been too afraid to seek an audience with him, hiding in the godswood like cowards.
Seeing them hesitate, Rhaegar glanced at them and barked, "Fight! Do you need me to teach you how?"
The two Tullys jolted in fear and hurriedly backed away, allowing their knights to take their positions.
Who would dare disobey the prince?
If this man got angry, the fire of his dragon was no laughing matter.
Two and a half years ago, a minor Riverlands noble had disrespected the prince and refused to let him enter his keep.
That very night, his family's granary mysteriously caught fire.
Along with it, the stables burned down, killing dozens of prized warhorses, and an entire storehouse of grain was reduced to ash.
The total losses exceeded a thousand gold dragons, plunging the once-prosperous noble house into debt.
No one knew who set the fire, and there was no way to investigate it.
But every noble in the Riverlands understood one thing from that night onward:
When the prince visits, you open your gates, welcome him inside, and offer him hospitality.
This was no longer the previous century's Targaryen dynasty, where lords could simply refuse a prince's or princess's request as they pleased.
Mocking royalty was no longer an option.
(End of Chapter)