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THUD! THUD! THUD!
Viserys I, wearing his crown, his face hidden behind a mask, and draped in his royal regalia, leaned on his scepter as he slowly climbed the steps. Step by step, he ascended to the Iron Throne and lowered himself onto its jagged seat of power.
At this point, he had not yet become entirely reliant on milk of the poppy. His mind was still clear, and though his body was frail, he could just barely endure the strain of this royal council.
At this moment, the throne room of the Red Keep was filled with those connected to House Targaryen.
Rhaenyra stood with Jacaerys by her side, while Daemon positioned himself to the right of the throne.
On the left stood Alicent and her children—Aegon, along with Aemond, whose head was still wrapped in bandages.
In the center of the room, Rhaenys stood with an composed expression, betraying no emotion.
"Your Grace!" Alicent was the first to step forward, her voice trembling with fury. "Daemon and Jacaerys infiltrated the Red Keep in an attempt to assassinate Helaena! She remains unconscious, and because of their actions, her unborn child, Maelor, is dead!
"I beg you, my king, bring justice for your daughter—for your grandson! I demand blood for blood!"
Her eyes were swollen and red from crying, her face a mask of grief and resentment.
The moment those words fell, Rhaenyra's face twisted in shock, while Daemon furrowed his brows ever so slightly.
Jacaerys, however, remained expressionless. Instead, he simply opened his mouth and calmly retorted, "Your Grace, Queen Alicent, do you have any proof to support such an outrageous accusation?"
"I saw it with my own eyes!" Aemond snarled, his single remaining eye burning with rage. "You were spotted near the secret passage exit of the Red Keep! And the moment the Gold Cloaks arrived, you fled into the city's backstreets! If you weren't guilty, why did you run?"
"Ha! This must be some kind of misunderstanding," Jacaerys chuckled lightly, shaking his head. "I was accompanying my father through Silk Street, visiting some old friends. We were enjoying ourselves so much that we lost track of time.
"As for avoiding the Gold Cloaks? Well, you know how it is—such things are best kept discreet. We wouldn't want to tarnish our reputations, would we?"
"Hah!"
Aegon scoffed, letting out a mocking laugh. "A 'Kingdom's Scourge' loathed by thousands, and a 'Rogue Prince' infamous throughout King's Landing—what reputation do either of you have left to ruin?"
Ser Otto, who had been silent up until this point, finally spoke, his sharp voice cutting through the tense air. "Your Grace, a witness saw the assassin wielding Dark Sister during the attack. Furthermore, Prince Aemond's ear was severed by Jacaerys' blade, and Sunfyre, Prince Aegon's dragon, was left gravely injured.
"By law, they have committed treason against the realm. By blood, they have transgressed the sacred ties of kinship. I implore you, Your Grace, to administer justice!"
Clap, clap, clap!
Jacaerys slowly applauded, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Ah, Ser Otto, always so impressive! You conjure up a so-called witness, then heap the charge of kinslaying upon us without a shred of proof.
"Very well then—how do you explain Ser Rickard, whom you and Queen Alicent sent to assassinate myself and Baela?"
"Ser Rickard? An assassination attempt? Preposterous!" Otto's voice remained steady, his seasoned mind quick to distance himself from the accusation. "Even if such an act had occurred, it must have been of his own volition!"
"Oh?" Jacaerys sneered, his tone dripping with mockery. "You're in quite a rush to wash your hands of him, aren't you?
"Unfortunately for you, we captured his attendants—living witnesses to his orders. And as for the Gold Cloak you sent to relay messages to them, well… he's in our custody too."
Alicent's face darkened, her expression hardening. Without hesitation, she gave the order.
"You have wounded Helaena. You have killed Maelor. And now you dare to throw baseless accusations at us?"
She turned sharply toward Ser Criston Cole. "Ser Criston, arrest Jacaerys and throw him into the Black Cells!"
At the queen's command, Ser Criston immediately stepped forward, several guards flanking him as they moved to seize the prince.
Daemon, however, was faster. He placed his hand upon the hilt of Dark Sister, his stance shifting ever so slightly to block their advance.
Jacaerys, unshaken, let out a slow, amused exhale. "Oh? Struck a nerve, have I?
"Yes, I know the Red Keep is filled with your people. But if you take even one more step, I will summon Vermax to this throne room and let him bathe it in dragonfire."
Aegon, who had been simmering with pent-up frustration throughout the entire exchange, suddenly burst into laughter.
"Hah! Do you think we're children to be scared so easily? The Dragonpit is leagues away! Go on then, call for him!"
"He can do it," Aemond interrupted, his expression dark and solemn. Memories of the last dragon attack flashed through his mind, making his stomach churn with unease.
Rhaenyra took a step forward, her voice steady yet laced with sorrow. "Queen Alicent, if you have a grievance, direct it at me.
"Baela and Helaena are both good girls. They did not deserve this."
Alicent shot her a look of pure contempt. "Spare me your false pity. Helaena does not need your feigned concern!"
THUD! THUD! THUD!
The resounding strike of a scepter against the stone floor echoed through the hall, cutting through the rising tensions.
Viserys I, struggling to lift his voice but mustering every ounce of his remaining strength, bellowed:
"Enough! Have you all forgotten yourselves?"
His weary gaze swept across the chamber, filled with disappointment and barely contained fury.
"I am not yet dead! Look at me! Open your eyes! I am still the one sitting upon the Iron Throne!"
The throne room, once buzzing with rage and accusations, fell into an uneasy silence.
And now, they all waited—waited for their king's final judgment.
"Ser Rickard Thorne disappeared after attempting to assassinate the prince and princess. A high bounty shall be placed on his head!" Viserys announced, his voice strained. "Furthermore, House Thorne is to compensate Jacaerys and Baela!"
He exhaled heavily, struggling for breath after speaking at such length. After a brief moment of labored breathing, he continued.
"Queen Alicent… Ser Otto… You are accused of orchestrating Ser Rickard's attempt on their lives. Prince Daemon… Prince Jacaerys… You are accused of attempting to assassinate Helaena. But—" He paused, his sharp gaze sweeping across the hall. "These remain nothing more than accusations. There is no solid evidence to prove them true! I will hear no further discussion on this matter."
Hmph!
Ha!
As soon as he finished speaking, scoffs and bitter laughter echoed from both sides of the hall. It was clear that neither faction was satisfied with Viserys's attempt to brush everything under the rug as if nothing had happened.
"However…" Viserys's voice rang out once more, regaining their attention.
"Prince Jacaerys did indeed sever Prince Aemond's left ear. He also gravely wounded Aegon's dragon. And given the rumors that have been spreading through King's Landing…"
The king's face hardened.
"He is no longer fit to be second in line to the Iron Throne."
His gaze fell upon Jacaerys.
"As Viserys Targaryen the First, I hereby declare—Jacaerys Velaryon is stripped of his claim to the Iron Throne!"
A heavy silence filled the hall.
Rhaenyra's face turned deathly pale.
She had journeyed all the way to Driftmark, pleaded with Rhaenys, and brought her to King's Landing—hoping to prevent a catastrophe.
However, his father had made his stance clear—he stood firmly on Alicent's side.
Naturally, Alicent and her supporters shared the same thoughts, their faces lit up with barely concealed delight.
"Your Grace, I have something to say."
Viserys turned his weary eyes toward Jacaerys. "Speak."
Upon receiving permission, Jacaerys immediately spoke up.
"I accept your decision to strip me of my claim to the throne."
The hall buzzed with murmurs of surprise.
"But—" Jacaerys continued, his voice steady. "On one condition. You must return to me the crown of 'King of the Narrow Sea and the Stepstones'—the very crown my father once presented to you."
"Your Grace, absolutely not!"
Otto Hightower was the first to react. He had immediately realized what Jacaerys was planning.
"The Stepstones are part of the Seven Kingdoms! They cannot be allowed to secede!"
Jacaerys turned toward him, a mocking smile tugging at his lips.
"Oh? The Stepstones are part of the Seven Kingdoms, are they?"
His tone was dripping with sarcasm.
"Well then, Lord Hand, would you be interested in boarding a ship and personally touring this so-called 'part of the Seven Kingdoms'? Let us see whether you would be fortunate enough to return to King's Landing alive."
Jacaerys's words were no longer just a veiled threat—they were an open, undisguised warning.
Viserys fell silent for a long moment. His tired gaze flickered toward Rhaenyra and Daemon. Then, with a sigh, he turned back to Jacaerys and gave a slow nod.
"Very well. I grant you the crown."
Excellent!
The moment Jacaerys heard those words, an elated thrill coursed through him.
The so-called second heir to the Iron Throne held value only after Viserys I's death. But Jacaerys all too well knew what would happen to the Seven Kingdoms when that day came.
Thus, trading a meaningless title for the crown of the Stepstones—a crown that signified true power—was an exchange far beyond worthwhile!
From this day forth, the Stepstones would stand apart from the Seven Kingdoms. They would no longer be bound to the realm but instead, belong solely to Jacaerys Velaryon!
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[Chapter End's]
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