"This is not just a matter for House Harlaw, it's about the honor of the Iron Islands, we absolutely cannot let Theon escape!" The lord of Old Wick, 'Bonehand' Dunstan Drumm, yelled at the top of his lungs. He had his Valyrian steel sword, Red Rain, hanging in the most prominent spot on his waist, and was watching the conflict from an intersection not far away.
Dunstan had no good intentions; with a member of House Harlaw dead, he would have one less rival, and if Theon died, the Harlaws would also face punishment from the King.
"Yes!" "We Ironborn will never retreat, don't back down! Get him!" The other Iron Islands family members watching the scene started to fan the flames, eager to escalate the situation.
With his bold and careful older sister Asha stepping forward to intervene, Theon's attention shifted to the man who had somehow become his brother-in-law, Aurane Velaryon.
Originally, Rodrik Harlaw had only intended to make a few harsh words to provoke Theon's anger and get him to strike first. But with Aurane's arrival stabilizing the situation, Rodrik now found himself in a bind—if he struck, he would be breaking the law, but if he didn't act, he would lose face. He couldn't leave, nor could he stay without losing dignity.
"Aurane Velaryon, everyone in the kingdom knows that Theon stole Nightfall. This is a personal grievance between me and him. I advise you not to involve yourself. The Ironborn are not your personal army!" Rodrik tried to remove Aurane from the matter.
"Harlaw, I'm not just the commander of the Northern Fleet of Tyrosh," Aurane said slowly, "You may not have heard yet, but Lord Wright has appointed me as the governor of Myr. Theon's lands are in Myr, and I have to manage his affairs both publicly and privately."
"You've become the governor of Myr?" Rodrik asked, looking around at his confused family members. They all had no idea what he was talking about.
"Myr is a city purchased by Lord Wright with his own funds, it's private land. Being governor isn't an official title, it's a management position, and whoever gets the title is decided entirely by Lord Wright, no need to report to the Royal Court." Asha added, explaining further.
Rodrik, realizing that provoking Aurane could escalate into something worse, was momentarily speechless. He didn't want to lose face by backing down, but he also couldn't afford to anger Tyrosh's nobles. He hesitated, stuck between a rock and a hard place. Aurane, not in a rush, wisely stopped talking to him and instead chatted casually with Asha.
A figure moved quickly along the wall beside the street, leaving behind a purple shadow wherever they went. Some shadows appeared to be in mid-jump, others mid-run with one hand gripping the wall. The first shadow hadn't even faded when the fast-moving person left another one ahead. It looked as though one person had created several purple shadows following behind.
The purple shadows only showed a human form, but each shadow raised its cloak on one shoulder. Anyone who had been to King's Landing would recognize that the person moving along the rooftops was none other than Jon Snow, the Commander of the Gold Cloaks.
Upon hearing reports of a noble conflict, Jon, who had been maintaining order below Dragonpit Hill, rushed over. He moved above the crowd, leapt gracefully, and landed right between the two factions in the middle of the street.
After landing, Jon didn't address the conflict directly. He took out a pocket watch and said, "Lord Harlaw, Lord Velaryon, the King's coronation is in one hour. There are too many people today, if we don't leave now, we won't make it in time."
Aurane smiled and pointed ahead, "Ser Jon, please help direct the crowd. Now we can't leave even if we want to."
"Yes, yes, everything's blocked here!" Lord Harlaw quickly followed, descending the stairs.
Jon had a very important duty today and didn't have time to catch up with everyone. He immediately signaled to the Gold Cloaks behind him to help disperse the crowd.
According to the King's coronation protocols, the High Septon of the Seven was supposed to officiate the ceremony. However, there had been growing criticism from the Seven Faith against Stannis, and many followers had come to King's Landing to petition. The Great Sept of Baelor refused to be used, so the coronation ceremony was moved to the large square next to the Magic School after discussions among the Baratheons.
The top of Dragonpit Hill was vast. Even after the Magic School had expanded, it occupied only a small corner. After clearing the rubble, there was still the stone floor laid over a hundred years ago, with only a few damaged spots that had been repaired with dragon fire by Odahviing.
Due to the large number of nobles gathering from all over the kingdom, the Red Keep hall was too small to accommodate them all, so the only place large enough was this square. Additionally, with Wright's magic capable of dispelling clouds, there was no worry about rain.
As nobles from all regions gathered, the square became more crowded. Following the flags of Lords raised in different areas, they moved toward their designated positions.
Two young girls, one with black hair and the other with blonde, were weaving through the dense crowd. They were Arya Stark and Rosamund Lannister. The two girls were of similar age, and somehow Arya had taken on the role of a "teacher" for the shy and introverted Rosamund.
"Look, Master Wright has been standing for hours, and he hasn't even blinked! He's amazing!" Rosamund said, leaning over the high platform, pointing at the three people standing next to the Iron Throne with admiration.
Arya looked over and saw Stannis positioned in the center, with Renly and Wright standing on either side of him. From a distance, it seemed like the three were conversing. Now that they were closer, Arya could see that their bodies were perfectly still, their mouths closed and eyes unblinking, with only their arms occasionally raising slightly.
"Haha, once you get familiar with Teacher Wright, you'll know he would never just stand there doing nothing. All three of them are illusions! Come on, I'll take you backstage to find him."
"Arya! Get back to your spot!"
Just as Arya was about to drag Rosamund toward the backstage area, a loud shout rang out.
"Uh-oh, we've been spotted." Arya, seeing who it was, obediently returned to the crowd.
Arya, who was unruly and didn't even listen to her father or older brother Robb, always became docile the moment Ashara yelled. Despite Ned and Robb's knightly spirit, their verbal scoldings had little effect on Arya as she grew. But Ashara, a woman and a violent one at that, would unsheathe her sword and threaten to strike whenever she disciplined her half-sister, calling it "agility training".
Arya returned and stood beside her father, Ned, in the front row, while Rosamund's parents stood behind the Tyrell group. Rosamund herself was with the people from the magic school.
As the nobles gathered on the plaza, whether old enemies or good friends, conversations ceased as the time for the coronation ceremony arrived.
The three people on the high platform, Stannis, Renly, and Wright, stepped backstage, and after a short time, they reappeared.
"See? I knew they were fake!"
"Quiet!" Sansa, with her white mask hanging from her chest, reached out and covered Arya's mouth.
Stannis, dressed in a golden robe, had shaved his Mediterranean hairstyle into a bald head, which he had oiled, making him shine brightly under the sun.
Robert's widow, Queen Doris Rowan, and Princess Jocelyn, along with Stannis's wife, Selyse Baratheon, and daughter Shireen, stood on the platform.
Wright and Renly stood on either side of the throne, with their families and children lined up next to them. Four little children were squeezed together, with Nymeria and Margaery standing on either side.
The plump High Septon, unable to walk on his own, was carried up to the platform by eight followers. With great effort, he stood and, after a glance at Wright, took out a magical amplification device to begin reciting the Seven Gods' prayers. Wright had personally gone to the Great Sept of Baelor, after a debate, to bring him in. Wright believed he was politically savvy.
A monk brought a velvet cushion with a golden crown placed upon it, the very crown Robert had once worn.
After the prayer, Stannis knelt before the High Septon, who placed the crown on his head.
The new king of Westeros was Stannis Baratheon, now with a new queen and princess. A wave of applause erupted from the crowd.
After the cheers died down, it was time for the new king to speak.
Stannis raised his hands: "I declare a pardon for all prisoners in King's Landing!"
The royal pardon after a king's coronation, a tradition that had lasted for centuries, brought another round of cheers.
The dungeons beneath the Red Keep were now empty. At the gate of the City Guard barracks, the guard on duty, seeing a signal from Dragonpit Hill, took out the keys and opened the prison doors.
"The king has granted a pardon! You all hurry up and get out!"
"What? I don't want a pardon! I really committed a crime!" A prisoner began causing a ruckus, refusing to leave.
"Yeah, we're criminals! You can't let us out!" Other prisoners also refused to leave their cells.
The guard, growing impatient, drew his truncheon. "The king's orders have been given! You're all innocent now. Get out of here and stop blocking the cells!"
"Innocent? Brothers, beat him!" One prisoner had an idea and grabbed his companions, starting a fight. When the other prisoners saw this, they gathered around and began attacking the guard.
"You see? We attacked a City Guard, we've committed a crime," the prisoners joked. After beating the guard, they walked back into their cells, locking the door behind them and tossing the keys back to him.
"Exile to Tyrosh! Exile to Tyrosh!" Ignoring the guard on the ground, the prisoners repeatedly chanted their slogan from within their cells.
Apart from the nobles from the North and those with family ties, nearly all the other nobles on the continent had stopped allowing immigration. The mountains were the lord's, the land was the lord's, the rivers were the lord's, and the people were the lord's. Tyrosh was making a lot of money, and like before, it wasn't concerned with what was happening. The population would continue to flood into Tyrosh. Those still wanting to leave thought about committing a crime in King's Landing to be exiled and sent to serve as soldiers.
In the square, after the new king Stannis's declaration, he immediately followed up with his second policy: "In the name of the King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm, I officially announce that gambling is now legal in King's Landing!"
Boom~~~
This time, there was no cheer. The nobles in the square erupted into chatter. Some were surprised, others were gloating.
The fat High Septon, who had just finished presiding over the coronation ceremony and was resting nearby, fainted upon hearing Stannis's policy. His position as High Septon was no longer secure.
Ignoring the noisy nobles, and disregarding any objections from the crowd, Stannis directly declared the ceremony over and dismissed the gathering.
It was thrilling! This was the shared sentiment of all the nobles present. To directly defy the teachings of the Seven, to go against the church—it was truly a bold move, befitting of the gambling king, Stannis.
Some of the old-fashioned nobles began to contact one another, planning to enter the Red Keep tomorrow to persuade Stannis to retract his decree. Banning gambling wasn't just a prohibition from the church—it was a principle most nobles adhered to. Stannis's actions would give his enemies ammunition against him, provoke public outrage, and create a scandal.
Now that the church's followers were already making their way to King's Landing, their purpose had shifted from preventing Stannis from becoming king to pressuring him to codify the ban on gambling into the kingdom's official laws.
The new king, just like Maegor Targaryen in his time, had directly confronted the church, and this explosive news spread like wildfire.
At the outskirts of Highgarden, the group of followers led by the High Sparrow had also received the news brought by the faithful.
More followers joined the procession, chanting slogans to oppose Stannis's tyranny, demanding that he face the judgment of the Seven, be paraded through the streets to cleanse his sins, and then retract his kingship.
The High Sparrow soothed the excited followers, calming them with his smile.
In the Red Keep's Hands's meeting room, Varys, Ser Davos Seaworth, and Andrew Estermont sat across from each other at a square table.
"Varys, tell us what news you have?" Andrew asked with a sly grin.
"My little birds… some who ate things they shouldn't have are already gone," Varys said, his cheeks puffing up as he smiled.
"It seems the High Sparrow truly has some skill," Ser Davos said darkly.
"We're all Master of Whisperers in our own right, collecting information on the High Sparrow in different ways. If we keep beating around the bush, it won't help anyone. Let's speak frankly, no games, just the facts," Andrew said, his words seemingly directed at both men but aimed primarily at Wright. He had worked under Ser Davos for years and was very close to him.
"One of you is the King's right-hand, and the other one of you is an intelligence officer in Tyros and founder of a very powerful cult… I'm just here to feed children who've lost their families," Varys said in a pitiful tone.
Since Robert's death and Stannis's ascension, Varys had begun to worry about his position. Once he lost his role, many people would want him dead. To decide whether to stay or flee, he had approached the other two.
Ser Davos placed his hand, missing a finger, on the table. "Varys, I'll tell you one thing—Stannis is not Maegor."
Smart men need not say much. Varys nodded after hearing this, and the two looked at Andrew.
Wright understood, and so did Ser Davos. Andrew, who usually acted carefree, had learned to mask his true nature after years of being with Wright. If this had been five years ago, Andrew would have been the same as always, but now, he was only pretending.
Andrew grinned widely. "Varys, you know, Wright is my cousin. We talk about everything. Once, when he was drunk, he confided in me that he intends to completely conquer Pentos!"
At this point, Andrew leaned forward toward Varys, his eyes suddenly serious. "Varys, you're from Pentos. If you provide the right help, Wright will reward you handsomely!"
Varys wiped the smile off his face. He knew his position in the Red Keep was no longer secure. Wright had offered him a way out—help him take Pentos, and that would become his new home. What kind of reward he could receive depended on what he was willing to contribute.