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-Chapter 106-
🕑 Added 2024-11-18 23:38:44 +0000 UTC-Chapter 106-
-POV Lyonel Strong-
As I closed the door to the king’s chambers, I walked away with an impassive expression.
It was only after about ten paces, once I had reached the end of the hallway leading outside the main keep to my chambers in the Tower of the Hand and was out of sight of the Kingsguard knights, that I allowed myself to sigh, both in relief and frustration.
‘I am forced to play this dangerous game because of you, my son,’ I thought, deeply irritated by the need to navigate such treacherous waters.
Granted, I was not lying to the king; like him, I wanted Princess Rhaenyra to sit on the Iron Throne. But deep down…
‘I’m no better than the rest of them,’ I thought, because…
My thoughts were abruptly interrupted when someone grabbed me by the collar and slammed me forcefully against the wall.
Before I could comprehend what was happening, I felt an elbow press hard against my throat, cutting off my air.
It all happened far too quickly, and instinctively, the pain and fear forced me to close my eyes.
Only when I heard the low, cold voice of my attacker did I realize who it was.
I opened my eyes, and though I already knew who it was, I struggled to believe what I was seeing.
He was assaulting me in the middle of the Red Keep, as calmly as if he had all the time in the world.
“So, I hear you haven’t taken well to your little demotion,” said the man, who towered over me by more than a head.
His violet eyes pierced into mine with such intensity that I truly believed my last moments had come.
But seeing that he hadn’t drawn a weapon, I understood he was here solely to intimidate me.
‘How does he know? He has no one in the capital,’ I thought, struggling to catch my breath as he slightly eased the pressure of his elbow on my throat.
“You can’t do this. The king will punish you,” I said, trying to frighten him while struggling to free myself from his iron grip.
“What can that feeble old man do?” retorted Aemon, slightly amused by my threats and my futile attempts to break free.
I was about to rebuke him for insulting the king, but the prince increased the pressure on my throat, once again cutting off my air, before saying:
“There’s no one here. No guard will come to save you.”
‘How does he know?’ I wondered, surprised by his precise knowledge of the Red Keep’s guard posts.
“You’re wondering how I know this so well?” asked Aemon, as if he could read my thoughts.
Before I could answer, he continued: “You must have some idea who provided me with such valuable information, as well as the details that allowed me to move so quickly through this castle—practically unknown to me—to find you so easily.”
I didn’t reply, too absorbed in my own speculations and the lack of oxygen clouding my thoughts.
The prince smiled and said softly: “I don’t need my dragon, who terrifies you all, to instill the fear that’s pouring out of you. If I wanted one of you dead, it would take only a single gold dragon to pay a desperate man who wouldn’t even know why he was killing you… or your precious granddaughter.”
I widened my eyes, utterly shocked by his words, forgetting to struggle.
This seemed to amuse him, as he completely released his grip on my throat and took a step back, leaving me kneeling, massaging my neck while coughing violently.
Cough, cough, cough.
“How… How…” I managed to say once I had taken in enough air to speak.
“Try harder,” the prince replied, rolling his eyes in feigned boredom.
I lowered my head, searching the floor for an answer, and the realization struck me like lightning.
How did he know there were no guards here? How did he know about a secret passage? How did he know I was advising the king against him?
‘Only one person could know so much,’ I thought, terrified by my own speculation.
“Larys,” I whispered, sighing.
“Indeed,” he confirmed with a nod, as if it were obvious.
I was stunned that my own younger son could betray me so.
‘That he could betray our entire house,’ I thought.
The prince didn’t allow me time to process the fact that my own son had betrayed me and continued:
“I wasn’t surprised when Rhaenyra bedded her sworn shield. She has a thing for that. She did it when Cole served her, so I imagine it’s some sort of fetish of hers…”
Then, narrowing his eyes and staring at the wall as if addressing his cousin directly, he added:
“But to learn she carried a child by that same sworn shield… that truly shocked me. And to name her bastard after my great-grandmother… that truly enraged me.”
“You’ve known all along?” I asked, realizing he seemed aware of Rhaenyra’s affairs well before Harwin.
Aemon frowned, almost indignant: “Of course I’ve always known.”
“Why didn’t you expose us as soon as you found out?” I asked after a moment.
“Because it would have gained me nothing at the time,” the prince replied.
“And now?” I asked, because if he proved his claims, House Strong would be wiped out without a trial.
He didn’t flinch but stared at me for a few seconds before clicking his tongue and saying:
“You’re lucky to have a good son. Don’t blame him, because it’s thanks to him that you’re alive. If he hadn’t informed me of your little scheme, I would have ensured you suffered an accident for trying to betray me so deeply.”
I narrowed my eyes at him, trying to understand.
Why wasn’t he saying anything?
His explanations didn’t make sense.
Someone like him would seize any chance to discredit me and regain the king’s favor.
Why wasn’t he using it?
‘Saying it’s for Larys is nonsense. He’s using Larys. If he’s not speaking up, it’s because he has no proof. The king is too attached to his daughter to believe such accusations on the basis of eye color alone,’ I thought, regaining a sliver of hope.
I smiled faintly and said as I stood: “You can’t prove anything.”
Aemon smiled without denying it and replied: “Who needs proof?”
I squinted, puzzled. He elaborated:
“Rhaenyra is a woman. She had little support before. With the birth of her daughter, she has almost none. How long do you think the lords of the great houses will tolerate bowing to her? Let’s be generous and wish my cousin a long reign—say, forty years—with two women in power.”
‘He’s not wrong,’ I thought, aware of the concerning state of noble support across the realm.
“That’s what you think,” I countered, refusing to show weakness.
The prince shrugged and declared: “I have the North and the Vale.”
I wanted to dismantle his arguments, but he cut me off, harshly and firmly:
“I’m not here to debate. I know I have the support of those who matter. A raven, a few coins to the right maids, and the story I weave will unravel before you can beg anyone to save House Strong.”
Heart pounding, I retorted, furious: “No one will believe your lies.”
Aemon shrugged again and said: “They don’t need to believe today, but they’ll remember when the king dies.”
‘Is that a threat?’ I wondered.
The prince shattered my speculations: “You saw how easily I grabbed you. Killing the king would be even simpler. One glass at the right time, and your house would be plunged into chaos amidst the deadliest storm this kingdom has ever seen.”
“You would doom the realm to war over an egg,” I said, horrified at the calculated ruthlessness of this man so many saw as courteous. He was nothing but a cold, heartless monster willing to stoop to any deceit to elevate his house above others.
“Don’t insult my intelligence. It’s not just an egg. It’s the future of my house. If you’re ready to destroy my future by gambling yours and the realm’s, why shouldn’t I do the same?” he replied.
“What do you want?” I finally asked, defeated.
Aemon feigned surprise. “What I want? I want peace. Convince the king my son deserves his birthright, or I’ll see to it the truth about Rhaenyra’s bastard comes out.”
He turned on his heels, leaving me alone in the middle of the corridor, my heart pounding furiously.
His words echoed in my mind as I came to realize just how precarious my house’s position truly was.
'The entire history of my House, all the sacrifices spanning hundreds, if not thousands, of years by my ancestors, rested on the single word of Prince Aemon.'
Comments
Matt
Deep down Pops Strong is based too
