Chapter Sixty-Seven

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Chapter Sixty-Seven: Harrenhal

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Chapter Sixty-Seven: Harrenhal

Vhaela Targaryen

The dampness of the air clings to my skin as I fly in the air just above the ground. Below marches the four thousand soldiers that have journeyed with us from King's Landing. I could practically hear their thundering steps with each touch they take on the wet ground.

It has been a long journey, one filled with countless storms. The muddy roads delayed us slightly as well as the rain. But now on our sixteenth day, we were finally approaching Harrenhal in all its ruined glory.

A soft sound erupts from Vhagar causing my head to turn in their direction. I smile at the sight of Aemond flying at my level. He sends me his devilish smirk, no doubt at the fact we have yet to run into my father.

The cockiness etched in his expression was one I did not share. We were still only a bit away from the large five towers of crumpled stone in the far distance. It would only take a moment for my father to take flight and attack us.

And as grateful as I was that he has not attacked us on the road like Aemond feared I was ready to see his demise. I needed to see him pleading for his life as I slowly and tortuously killed him. Begging for forgiveness for the crimes he has committed against me and my family.

A slight jolt sends my eyes wide as I turn to face the culprit. On the end of Cannibal's wings is Vhagar's brushing against it. Even from the distance we were at I could still hear the heavy laughter from Aemond.

On the other hand, Cannibal lets out a grumble of displeasure as he steers us in the opposite direction. A soft laugh escapes me as we depart from them and head away from the road and deeper into the forest. My eyes are drawn in at the five soaring towers that make up Harrenhal.

It was crazy to think that the Conqueror was once here flying just as we were. That Balerion had caused all the damage to the blackened stone and crumbling walls. I desperately wanted to explore every inch of the castle. To see that part of history.

My attention wanders at the sight of Ser Criston's vanguard up ahead. They had been sent ahead of the main group to scout out and clear off anyone in our way. That was yesterday and he was now finally back.

I quickly guide Cannibal back to fly level with Aemond to communicate with him. He peers over at Vhagar and finds the small number of men up ahead on the road. They didn't look to seem in any danger or frantic state.

Aemond's head quickly darts in my direction before signaling that he was going to land and that I was to stay in the sky. Which was smart in case my father chooses this as the perfect moment to strike. But something told me he wouldn't.

It was not like my father to sit idly by and let himself be penned up inside a castle wall. He was too seasoned in battle and out of all the stories I remember him telling me he had not once held back. My father was always on the offense. Always ready to attack.

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