Rhaegar Targaryen stirred from a long rest. His feet clenched just a bit as the biting cold woke him once more. The winter was the worst, everything was slow and it barred him from enjoying the beaches of Kings Landing. He had been denied his princely right of putting his feet in warm sand and reading a good book. Instead, the crown prince had been forced to curl up in the library and read. He went through many genres of books. Some about the politics of Westeros, tidbits of long forgotten history about the Valyrian Freehold, and of course his favorite subject, the Basilisk Islands. The scum of the earth lived on those islands, killing and raping anyone who standed in their way. He had never felt threatened about such people to Westeros. Westeros would probably never face another foreign invasion after Maelys’s great death to Bryce Corbray.

They had proved that it was impossible to smash through the stepstones. Westeros, for all the backstabbing and feuds that arose, had come together in their time of need. On the other hand, Westeros was her own worst enemy. That was where any problem could arise at any moment. But that was the least of Rhaegar’s concerns. He merely enjoyed reading his books and imagining great history.

After setting his books down, Rhaegar took a step outside of the library. He hadn’t noticed how much time had gone by through the day, it must have already been noon. At least that’s what the bells had meant. He took a step on the floor looking down on it. Would Marble look better on it? Huge pillars made out of solid gold? Or perhaps pools filled up with Ale for all the drunkards to swim in? He needed to think about what actions he would take as a king. All he wanted to do was be successful and make his parent’s proud. He continued walking, slightly distracted with books under his right arm. He needed a new place to study, something with different lighting.