As time passed, more and more nobles arrived at the Red Keep, and the atmosphere began to grow livelier.
Lord Wright, who had killed the last male member of House Targaryen and brought back the only surviving female, was met with smiles from everyone. No matter what their true thoughts were, today, their faces had to wear cheerful expressions.
One by one, they donned their finest attire and adorned themselves with the most precious accessories, chatting in small groups as they walked into the hall. Wright also arrived at the right time, receiving congratulations from various nobles along the way. Once everyone had gathered, Robert, accompanied by the Kingsguard, ascended the Iron Throne.
The last time Wright had been in the hall of the Red Keep, he had been serving as the acting Hand of the King, and he had laid down a rug on the Iron Throne. Robert had found it comfortable, but the court officials had argued that the Iron Throne symbolized royal power, and placing a rug on it was inappropriate. Robert had retorted, "Why didn't anyone tell me when Wright was sitting there?"
Now, whenever Robert entered the hall on formal occasions, the servant ahead of him would carry a large custom-made golden-deer-patterned rug to lay on the Iron Throne as Robert walked from the door to the throne. Since Wright's departure, this had become part of court protocol.
With the nobles of the city finally gathered, Robert had to handle some unresolved matters before the meeting. Wright and Renly stood closest to the Iron Throne, and Wright cast a silent magic spell as they began gossiping about King's Landing. The two of them were talking so animatedly that their hands were gesturing wildly, but no sound could be heard, making the surrounding nobles envious.
"The Red Priest you mentioned arrived recently in King's Landing, and many nobles are lining up to meet her," Renly teased with a wicked smile.
"Haha, when Melisandre takes a bath, they'll probably be scared to death! But has Robert met her?" Wright asked, slightly worried that Robert might get too carried away.
Renly glanced at the Iron Throne: "Robert heard she's a sorceress and asked me about her. I told him Melisandre is over 300 years old. I thought he'd give up, but for a while, he was visiting her inn every day."
Wright was shocked: "Robert has such a strange taste! Melisandre's magic is in the fields of alteration and illusion, which is very dangerous for Robert."
Renly nodded: "That's why every time Robert visits, he brings either Thoros or Jon Snow with him. Luckily, I heard that Shadowbinders can't reproduce; otherwise, it would be a huge problem."
Wright looked at Jon Snow, who was standing in the back of the crowd. He was now wearing a golden commander's uniform and had originally gained his position due to his relationship with the King.
Jon nodded at Wright and Renly before turning his gaze to the hall, his face serious.
Wright roughly guessed Robert's intentions. It seemed he was willing to risk everything, hoping to father a child with magical talent. However, according to the Quaithe, high-ranking Shadowbinders could just give birth to magical shadows that would die soon. It was a life-for-life exchange—using one's own death to unleash full magical power, thus allowing the birth of a normal child. But who among the long-lived would be willing to give up their life?
Wright said, "If Melisandre gives up her life to bear Robert's child, it'll just be a bastard. Even without a queen, the King can't marry someone of unknown origin. Melisandre wouldn't make such a bad deal."
Renly laughed: "Indeed. After a few nights with Robert, Melisandre didn't receive any promises. Even the idea of building a Red Temple in King's Landing was forcefully rejected by the High Septon. She must have felt like she gained nothing, and she left the city without anyone knowing where she went."
"Hahaha," Wright laughed as well.
Robert might not be very shrewd in other matters, but when it came to war, drinking, and women, those were his areas of expertise. Melisandre couldn't work her charms on Robert; he was the type who would deny everything once his pants were on. So many women who had borne him illegitimate children had never gained anything.
The two continued chatting, and the hall grew quiet. The gates of the Red Keep opened again, and two Kingsguard members and eight soldiers escorted Daenerys into the hall.
Daenerys was dressed in luxurious clothes, with a simple golden necklace around her neck. She walked confidently to stand before Robert. She curtsied like a noblewoman, but did not bow as customarily required when facing the King.
Robert didn't mind. He had already decided how to handle Daenerys in the royal meeting.
Sitting upright on the Iron Throne, Robert spoke with vigor, "Daenerys Targaryen, who attempted to raise an army to restore the old dynasty, has been captured by Lord Wright. Do you have anything to say for yourself?"
The fact that Robert was asking the questions already showed a great deal of respect. The formal process of stating the charges and crimes should have been done by the ceremonial officials.
"I was born into House Targaryen, and I only did what I was supposed to do," Daenerys replied, her tone neither humble nor arrogant. She surveyed the room, adding, "I believe everyone can agree with this reason."
The truth was, her birth did indeed determine her stance, but no one dared to speak up in support of her.
Robert continued, "For the crime of inciting a war to overthrow the crown, the main culprit, Aegon Targaryen, has been killed. Based on the information brought back by Lord Wright, we are now passing judgment on the accomplice, Daenerys Targaryen."
The nobles' hearts were in their throats at this moment. Some who were staunch supporters of Robert wanted Daenerys dead, while others who still had affection for the old regime hoped Robert would spare her life.
Especially the learned Maester Aemon, who had abandoned his family, but when the family was on the verge of extinction, he could not bear to see his beloved young relative Daenerys face death.
Robert looked at Renly. "Master of Laws, how should we judge her crime?"
Renly's expression turned serious as he walked to the center of the hall. "According to the laws of the realm, Daenerys Targaryen should be stripped of all noble titles, honors, and lands, have all her possessions confiscated, and be sentenced to hang!"
A wave of murmurs spread through the hall.
Robert waved his hand, signaling Renly to step aside. He took up the Valyrian steel warhammer leaning beside his chair and descended from the Iron Throne. The tall, portly king stood in front of Daenerys, towering over her.
Daenerys met his gaze unflinchingly.
Robert raised the warhammer high, and Daenerys, anticipating death, shut her eyes. The hammer swung through the air with a heavy thud. Many of the noblewomen present quickly closed their eyes, unwilling to witness the gruesome scene of brain matter splattering.
Bang! The hammer hit the ground with a loud crash.
"Oh!" A gasp echoed through the hall.
Daenerys opened her eyes and saw herself unharmed.
Robert hoisted the hammer onto his shoulder and returned to the Iron Throne. Sitting up straight, he gripped the hammer's handle firmly. "I, Robert Baratheon, have killed countless enemies in my life, but I have never killed a child or a woman! When you were born, I didn't send people to hunt you down, and now I won't kill you."
The nobles, still listening attentively, waited to hear what else Robert would say.
"Daenerys Targaryen, you are stripped of all noble titles, honors, and lands, your possessions confiscated, and you will remain in the Red Keep until death."
"Long live the king!"
"The king is mighty!"
"The merciful king!"
The hall erupted in praise and applause. Maester Aemon, too, smiled. The king had not executed Daenerys, nor had he locked her in a dungeon. Now she would live in the Red Keep, and at least she would have a decent end.
Some nobles who still respected the old regime clapped as well. Without male heirs, the Targaryens' chance of a revival was hopeless. While Daenerys would never bear children locked in the Red Keep for the rest of her life, at least she would die of old age, and they took some comfort in that.
Only the few members of the small council watched impassively as Robert continued his performance. Daenerys could not die—that was the conclusion they had reached in the council.
Several attendants approached Daenerys, removing her necklace and headpiece, replacing her splendid attire with a plain white linen gown, and escorted her out of the hall.
"Wright!" Robert called.
Wright stepped forward.
"Everyone knows Lord Wright's merit. The ruins of Meereen will soon be examined by a joint expedition from the Red Keep and Oldtown. The wounds on the dragons and Daenerys being here in King's Landing are proof enough of his achievements!"
Applause broke out again.
"By military law, based on Lord Wright's accomplishments, I hereby reward him with 100,000 gold dragons!"
"Congratulations, Lord Wright!" More flattery followed.
Wright, however, groaned inwardly. The 100,000 gold dragons were what he had given Robert yesterday!
Robert continued, "Due to the remaining forces of Aegon Targaryen, I hereby appoint Wright Baratheon as the Supreme Commander for the conquest of Essos."
This was the reward Wright had truly wanted. In today's society, military positions had to have a noble cause, and the previous role of guarding the Narrow Sea had been a defensive one. As Supreme Commander for the conquest of Essos, Wright could now truly lead an army to Essos, with other nobles following suit.
Some were already congratulating him, while others, quick on the uptake, realized that Wright and House Baratheon were poised to dominate the Nine Free Cities. Many began calculating how to align themselves with Wright, eager to ride his coattails to wealth.
But it was already too late for these opportunists. The Treasurer, Mace Tyrell, was the happiest of all. His family had bet heavily on Wright when he was still young, and now they were reaping the rewards.
As the council meeting ended, Maester Aemon remained under the guise of lecturing, and Robert, knowing his intentions, instructed Daenerys to serve as his attendant.
Wright and Renly returned to the Magic School, accompanied by Jon Snow.
"How come we haven't heard anything from Robb lately?" While chatting and drinking on the red sofa in the school's hall, Wright remembered Robb.
Jon: "He went back to Winterfell to get married, but I heard his wife hasn't had her monthly cycle yet, so they haven't consummated the marriage."
Wright leaned closer to Jon and asked, "Did anyone die at Robb's wedding?"
Jon thought for a moment. "I was quick on my feet and made it to the wedding. I don't think anyone died, just a kid from House Karstark who got his leg broken."
Wright let out a sigh of relief. "That's good. Who's Robb's bride?"
Jon: "A girl from House Farman in the West, named Seran Farman. She's not bad-looking."
Wright couldn't recall that name and asked, "From the West? How did they meet?"
Jon: "I heard they fell in love at first sight at a tournament held by House Tully. It was a free love story. Both their parents were a bit reluctant at first, but eventually, they all supported it. Lord Tywin of the West even sent Ser Jaime to escort her. A lot of Westermen attended the wedding in Winterfell."
Wright tapped his fingers. Ser Jaime going to escort a count's daughter? He didn't buy it—only Myrcella would warrant that!
Since Myrcella had appeared, then King Robert would likely be involved as well. Wright continued asking Jon some more questions, but despite the presence of the third prince, King Robert was still nowhere to be found.
The conversation turned to interesting events in the Vale. Lately, Lord Tywin had been acting strangely, bringing Edmure Tully to the Vale, where they frequently threw parties with a host of Westermen nobles.
Many deals had been struck, but the dance parties, filled with flirtations, seemed out of place for Tywin, who wasn't known for his interest in matchmaking.
It was speculated that Tywin wanted to forge more alliances between the West and the Vale, hoping for a Westerman bride for Denys Arryn. As this rumor spread, the Vale nobles were displeased, but since it wasn't a war, Denys, a living lord, would have to choose his own bride.
Thus, the Vale had become a hotbed for parties. Tywin, Denys, and Edmure seemed inseparable, always finding reasons not to part ways, with Westerman women constantly surrounding Denys and Edmure.
Denys, guided by knightly ideals, was polite to young women and never spent the night with them, except when he visited entertainment establishments. Edmure, on the other hand, seemed particularly fond of Vale widows and had numerous rumors swirling about his relationships with them, showing no interest in young women.
Then, one day, while Tywin and Edmure were guests in the Eyrie, many attendants overheard them arguing. Afterward, they both resigned from their posts and returned to Riverrun and the West.
No one knew exactly what they had discussed.
Later, rumors spread from Riverrun that Edmure had been throwing things in his room. It wasn't until a widowed noblewoman from the West arrived that Edmure began to calm down.
People in Riverrun described this widow as having golden curly hair, being strikingly beautiful, with a well-endowed figure, clearly someone capable of bearing children. Some mornings, she even helped Edmure to the breakfast table.
Noble families from the Riverlands began seeking Edmure out, urging him to father a son, even if he didn't marry, to ensure the Riverlands had an heir. If there was no direct line, the illegitimate son should be made legitimate, otherwise there would be no heir to the Riverlands.
Edmure had deep, unspeakable frustrations but found comfort in the nights he spent with the widow. Over time, he began to succumb to his indulgence.
"These are some crazy things!" Wright muttered. He had considered that this woman might be Cersei, but Jaime and Tywin were still very much alive. There was no way they would let Cersei go out like that. Especially Jaime—he would do anything for Cersei. If she were going out to find another man, Jaime would be the first to take his Valyrian steel sword and cut Edmure down!
The three continued chatting deep into the night, discussing the sordid affairs of nobles from all over.