READ NOVEL ONLINE Chapter 3: Chapter 2: Rebirth.
Chapter Two: Rebirth
William awoke to a bright light shining down on him. Blinking in confusion, he sat up and looked around. He was in a grand castle, with ornate tapestries hanging from the walls and a massive fireplace at the foot of his bed. With a window that let in a sliver of light, and he could hear the sounds of birds chirping outside.
He looked down at himself and realized that he was no longer in his old body. He was in a child's body in a new world, one of dragons and magic. And he was no longer a boxer, but the son of Boremund Baratheon.
He was also dressed in fine clothing, with silks and furs that spoke of wealth and power.
He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up, feeling a little unsteady. He was still getting used to the fact that he was a child again, with all the limitations that came with it. He couldn't remember his past life in detail, but he knew that he had been reborn into this world as a newborn baby. He had grown up with Boremund Baratheon as his father, and had been named William, after his old self.
He looked down at his small hands, and then at his surroundings.
It was grand and spacious, with high ceilings and tall windows that let in streams of sunlight. The walls were adorned with intricate tapestries depicting battles and hunting scenes, and a large hearth provided warmth on chilly days. A four-poster bed stood in one corner, draped with red and gold silk curtains that swayed gently in the breeze.
At the foot of the bed was a chest made of dark wood, carved with the Baratheon sigil of a crowned stag. The room also contained a large writing desk with an inkwell and quill, several bookshelves filled with leather-bound tomes, and a comfortable armchair for reading.
In the center of the room stood a sturdy oak table with chairs around it, where the young lord could entertain guests or enjoy a meal with his family. On the table, there was often a selection of fruits and cheeses, along with a decanter of wine. A small sideboard held crystal glasses and silverware, and there were candles in elegant silver candlesticks that could be lit for evening gatherings.
William stretched his arms and walked towards the door, feeling the soft woolen carpet under his feet. He made his way to the adjoining room, where a marble bathroom awaited him. The room was decorated with tiles of blue and white, depicting sea creatures and waves.
As he washed his face, he looked at himself in the mirror. Wide blue eyes looked back at him beneath a fringe of hair dark as pitch. With high cheekbones, and a strong jaw, with a nose one might consider delicate.
Satisfied, William tried to recall what had happened since he had been reborn. He remembered being taken care of by a wet nurse, and then by a maester who had taught him how to read and write. He had also been given a few lessons in swordplay and horse riding, but he had yet to be formally trained in these skills.
He finished washing up and went to the door, which was made of heavy wood and had a latch on the outside. He pushed it open and stepped into the hallway, which was empty except for a few servants hurrying about their tasks.
He followed the sounds of voices and laughter, and soon found himself in a large courtyard. There were people everywhere, from knights in armor to ladies in fine dresses. He spotted Boremund Baratheon sitting at a table with a group of other lords, drinking wine and talking. He made his way over to him, feeling a little nervous.
Boremund looked up as he approached. "Ah, there you are, my boy," he said, smiling. "Come and sit with us."
William climbed up onto a bench and looked around at the other lords. He recognized a few of them from his lessons, but most were strangers. He listened as they talked about politics and war, trying to make sense of it all.
After a while, Boremund turned to him. "William, do you remember what I told you about House Targaryen?"
William nodded. "They're the ruling family, right?"
"Yes, but not for much longer, if the rumors are true. There's a dispute over who should inherit the throne, and it's likely to lead to war."
William's heart quickened at the thought of war. He had never experienced it before, but he knew it was a terrible thing.
Boremund patted his shoulder. "Don't worry, my boy. We'll keep you safe here at Storm's End. But it's important to understand the politics of this world, especially since you'll be a lord one day."
William nodded, feeling a sense of responsibility settle on his shoulders. He knew he had a lot to learn, but he was determined to be a good lord, one who would protect his people and fight for what was right.
William observed the lords closely, noticing how they spoke with confidence and authority. He knew that being a lord was not just about having power and wealth, but also about responsibility and duty. He was determined to learn everything he could about being a lord, from diplomacy to strategy.
As he sat there, he also noticed the different styles of clothing that the lords wore. Some wore heavy armor, while others wore fine silk and velvet. He wondered what his own style would be, and if he would be able to choose his own clothes one day.
He also noticed that some of the lords had scars and wounds, evidence of battles they had fought in.
Boremund noticed his curious expression and said, "It's not all about fighting, my boy. A lord must also be able to negotiate and make alliances. It's about finding the right balance between strength and diplomacy."
William nodded, taking in his words. He knew that being a lord was not just about being a warrior, but also about being a leader.
As the conversation continued, William felt a sense of excitement and trepidation. He knew that this world was full of danger and uncertainty, but he also knew that there were opportunities for greatness and heroism.