Pre-Chapter A/N:Another chapter on time? Guess my lock-in is going pretty well. If you haven't already, I recommend turning on notifications for my stuff so you can see when new stuff drops right as it drops. More chapters on my patreon(https://www.patreon.com/c/Oghenevwogaga)— same username as here and link in bio.
XXXXX- THE KING'S HAND
"What are they saying?" Viserys asked with a sigh as he slumped down in his seat.
A good question, but not one that Otto even wanted to touch. There was potential in this situation, but it could just as easily doom him as it could make his cause. The art of navigating situations like this was one that Otto had long since mastered, and the first rule was never to speak first.
Strong was not so adept, and he stepped forward to answer the question.
"Whispers from all corners say the same thing. The Princess's reaction seemed to speak of a closer level of affinity than should ordinarily be the case," he said.
"Speak plainly, Lyonel. They think my daughter is a whore, don't they?" he asked.
"No. I doubt anyone with a working brain thinks your daughter has sullied herself with Cole. But you know the appearance of a thing can be a greater threat than the substance of the thing itself," Strong said.
Otto still did not consider it safe enough to speak. If only he had not expended so much of his capital with the King on trying to deal with the upstart Velaryons. But now he could see his position in the King's confidence shifting. A lesser, more impatient man would have rushed to use this opportunity to worm their way back into said confidence, but Otto knew that would be folly.
Things were too fraught for him to take a solid stance one way or the other. Particularly when he could not yet prove what he knew to be the truth beyond doubt.
"And yet the whispers persist," Viserys sighed.
"Such is the nature of gossip, Your Grace. They will move on to another topic in a matter of sennights," he said.
"No. I can not leave it to chance. What of Cole? What do the Maesters say?" he asked, shifting the topic.
"They say he will live. As for whether he will walk again, that is a different matter. Runciter says he has seen wounds such as his heal in one of two ways. Either he will heal fully and be able to live as he once did, or he will never walk again and will be bedridden for the rest of his life," Otto said, stepping into the conversation.
"I see. Do you think it best if he is removed from the board?" the King asked.
Strong was shocked, but Otto was not. He knew Viserys better than any other did, and the cruelty that had lain within Daemon ran through him as well, if greatly diminished.
"You want us to kill him?" Strong asked, aghast.
"No, no, of course not. Never. I just mean to ask, would it be better if he were not to wake up from his present state?" he said. Of course, that cruelty came with little of the boldness.
"There might be an advantage there," Otto said. He could see the opportunity now. Removing Cole would remove Rhaenyra's staunchest supporter within the Kingsguard, and then he could be replaced with another. While Otto had no difficulty gathering intelligence on the Princess when he needed it, having someone in her shadow at every hour of the day was a tempting possibility.
"It would end the whispers for sure. Turn them into something else. At the very least, most would stop speaking because it would be uncouth to speak ill of the dead, and there is no ill greater than suggesting that he stained his cloak," Strong said, coming around to the suggestion.
Otto found him interesting. He was easily one of the more brutal members of the Council, but he masked his savagery in a veneer of civility. A veneer that he was able to cast off in a second to reveal the brute within.
"Shall it be done then?" the King asked. Because Viserys was not the sort of man to order the assassination of another. He was the kind of man to defer to the counsel of his advisers.
"I can see to it," Otto offered. Runciter was his tool in the end, and the situation was still precarious enough that none would be all too surprised if Cole began to get worse and ultimately died. It was not like there was any House Cole of any significance to begin an inquiry. And if the Princess chose to make an issue of things, then her father would steer her elsewhere.
"Then that will be all," Viserys said, never explicitly giving the order. Otto noted it but said nothing; it was not his job to do so.
"Is it true?" he asked after a few seconds of silence. None of them needed to ask what he was thinking about. It was clear as day. And it was even clearer that the answer was not one the King was ready for. Not the true answer, at least.
"It is impossible to know," Strong said. "However, it is doubtful," he added.
Defending Rhaenyra in this vein did gall him, but he knew his King. He would not punish his daughter even if it was true. Instead, he would push for a wedding to happen sooner, and as things stood presently, Laenor Velaryon would be the chosen groom.
No. Otto needed the Princess to remain unmarried for the time being. There was potential to steer either her or Viserys in another direction, and there was a chance Rhaenys would pick another bride for her son if they kept delaying to commit. A marriage to the most powerful house in the realm, who wielded three dragons with impunity, was not an advantage he would see given to her without a fight.
"I see. Then it is untrue," Viserys said. And that was it. The word of a king was a powerful thing.
"It is untrue," Strong echoed.
"It is untrue," he agreed, keeping what he knew to himself. Survival in King's Landing was not just about gathering weapons; it was about knowing when and where to use them.
XXXXX- LAENOR VELARYON
Cole's death was announced at the beginning of the feast and it was declared to be in his honour. His bones would be sent back to his House, or what remained of it, along with the regard of the King. That announcement had caused several eyes to turn in my direction. I had killed a man. And I had done it in a tourney. I was not the first to have done so by any means, but every time nobility died in such a public manner, it was a tragedy.
That was one thing about this world that most didn't understand. Noble lives seemed to mean something here. There was a reason true nobility rarely died in wars. Even the belligerents would often be forced to give up land, maybe a hostage or two, but rarely ever their lives. It was a key part of the social contract here. There was a reason that Robert Baratheon in another life had left Balon Greyjoy alive. There was a reason that my ancestor Jaehaerys had left Rogar Baratheon alive even after he had essentially rebelled.
You didn't kill nobility in violence. It was what made us noble. Of course, the Dance of the Dragons would change that rule, and many others, but for now the death of a Kingsguard was a terrible thing that would be mourned. A death that had knock-on effects in this situation. It wasn't just the Lords who were staring at me.
Rhaenyra's red-rimmed eyes had seldom left my face all night. I truly hoped she didn't do anything rash. Now that Mother was going to handle things under the table, a public explosion actually worked against my purposes. Especially considering there was no way for me to control what she said. Would she be stupid enough to let loose something to fan the flames of the rumor building about her and Cole? Well, the act of confronting me would probably work to fan those flames in a heart or two.
The meal was to have seven courses and each one of those courses seemed to pass with agonizing slowness. Rhaenyra's gaze burned a hole in the side of my head all through the service while Laena preened at my side. She wore the crown of roses well, and since Mother had given her tentative approval, it was like she was living on clouds.
Of course, things were not so simple for me. I was pleased to not have the secret hanging over my head, but I was under no impressions that my job was done. I would have to secure the High Septon's favour to do it, and either he was going to be a corrupt man and it would be expensive, or he would be a true believer and it would be impossible. I would need to find out which was which, and if it was the latter, I would have to arrange the removal of a High Septon. Things were far from settled.
The courses finished and then came the call for dancing. We watched as the first and most eager took the floor and began to spin. I turned to Laena to ask her but we were interrupted almost immediately.
"My Lord, My Lady," a voice called from behind us.
"Princess Rhaenyra?" I acknowledged with a tilt of my head.
"I understand it is custom for the winner of the Joust to dance with his Queen of Love and Beauty, but would you mind if I stole a single dance first?" she asked. I turned to Laena, expecting to see her incensed, but instead, there was a wide smile on her face.
"Ask her, Laenor. We have all our lives to dance together," she said, not even trying all that hard to hide just what we were.
"Would you do me the honour of joining me for a dance, Princess?" I asked as I stood from my chair. She nodded before stretching her hand out for me to take.
While I did so, I wondered what this game she was playing was. Had the King ordered this? It was a statement either way. It said that she did not consider me responsible for the accident, that she saw it as just that—an accident. What was the play for her though?
When we reached the centre of the dance floor, she wasted no time in stepping into my space and then we began to move to the music.
"I am the Crown Princess of the Seven Kingdoms, Ser Velaryon," she said.
"Please call me Laenor, Princess, and I am well aware of who you are."
"I think I will continue to refer to you as Ser Velaryon. And yes, you know who I am. So you should know that I have been watching jousts for nearly as long as I have been alive."
I nodded, still not sure where this was leaning.
"In that time I have only seen two knights die at events like this one. Both of them recently promoted. Both of them tragic accidents. My father is a careful man and so puts in place many safeguards foreign in the wider realm," she said.
I wondered what she wanted me to say in response to that. This was clearly about Cole, so I did the sensible thing and remained silent. If she wanted to accuse me of something then she could come out and say it. I wasn't going to just offer myself to the slaughter.
"And yet an accident without equal took place yesterday in the safest tournament in history. Armors were checked before every round, the lances were specially made to shatter on impact while losing none of their blunt pushing force, the horses were checked for all sorts of ailments before things began."
"You seem to know a lot about jousting, Princess," I shot in, not quite able to stop myself. Her gaze snapped to mine. From so close, I could see the barest hints of red in her eyes. She had been crying, it was certain. A lot had been done to make it non-obvious, but even the best Tyroshi powders would fail to fool the eye from this close.
"I have been watching them since before I could walk or even understand what they meant," she said.
I nodded, not pushing the point even if we both knew that the real reason she knew so much about the safety measures had nothing to do with that.
"I had your horse investigated," she said next, dropping the bombshell with no pause.
"Oh?"
"To check if she was a mare in heat or otherwise altered. It turns out that he was a he. A Dornish stallion, at that."
"His name is Nike," I said.
"Nike? How queer."
"A god of victory from one of the free cities. I think it fitting," I said.
"I see. Do you know what Criston had named his horse? The horse you killed?"
"Haven't the foggiest. It was an accident, Princess. And I know I have yet to say it, but I am truly sorry for your loss."
"Indeed. His horse suddenly reared right as he approached you. Gaston. The horse was named Gaston. A strong stallion from the Stormlands. Criston had ridden him in dozens of tourneys and only now does such a thing happen," she said.
"That's the thing with freak accidents, isn't it? It only happens once. Maybe you should look into the horse though. There might be something to be found in questioning the breeders," I snarked.
"You think me insane," she said.
"I think you are grieving, Princess. And when things happen it is simply human for us to assume there is some grander design, purpose, or plot at work. But sometimes, bad things happen for no reason. I am extremely sorry about Cole, but it was an accident. That is it," I said.
"I do not believe you," she replied.
"Oh? You think I somehow managed to make his horse rebel against him at the last second?"
"There are whispers that you are a sorcerer. That you cavort with strange gods from the East," she said.
"We are the children of strange gods from the East," I snarked back. "There are few men more adherent to the Seven than I. I released thousands of slaves in pursuance of their will. I build their temples on each Island I control. I am their tool, and all but the most blind and hate-filled can see that."
"What did you do to the horse?" she asked.
"Back to this again. I did nothing, Princess. It was an accident," I said.
"And you still take me for a fool. I will find the truth, Ser Laenor. And when I do, you can expect the full weight of the crown to fall upon you," she said, and against my better reason, I scoffed.
"What weight? You think your father will risk the alliance between our houses for an underhanded Knight? One that is rumored to have taken his daughter's virtue?"
She inhaled sharply, nostrils flaring.
"You've not heard any of the whispers?" I asked, impressed.
"What whispers?"
"I am no gossip, Princess. It would be beneath a Knight of my standing to repeat such words," I said.
"And yet you allude to their existence with ease," she accused.
"Because I thought you were aware of them. If you are not, then I will cease speaking on the matter," I said.
"I will find what you did, you know?"
"You have an impressively one-track mind," I said with a scoff.
"Syrax will enjoy ripping you to shreds."
"Oh my sweet summer child, have you seen my dragon? Have you seen Igneel? He is a King of the skies, an uncontested ruler of a size with Caraxes already. If you think your runt stands a chance, I am sure you can find us one of these days."
"You are a uniquely deplorable man."
"No. You are an arrogant and silly little girl. You might be royalty, but that is the only redeeming factor about you," I said, feeling my patience beginning to wear thin. Could she not see how none of this helped her case? Where was the common sense? Had grief taken her so completely?
"And yet you want to marry me. Just as surely as these other men here," I scoffed in response.
"I know what you want, and for what you did, I can promise you you will never get it. You killed Cole because you knew there was no way for you to beat him in the Joust. Your family has worked for years to get close to the crown that will one day sit on my head. And I can assure you that it will not happen in your lifetime or any of the hundreds to come. I will not marry you, Laenor Velaryon, and I can swear to you that just as surely as the sun rises or Syrax flies, my line will never marry yours," she said.
"And nothing of value was lost," I responded as I dipped her in accordance with the flow of the music and we returned to dancing at an arm's length.
None of our arguing showed in our movements. Children of Great Houses, we had learned dancing from when we could walk. This was child's play.
When the song ended though, she took a step back.
I bowed and received a curtsy in turn. She turned and left the hall; I turned to seek out Laena.
A/N: And so we have the chapter. Next five chapters up on patreon(https://www.patreon.com/c/Oghenevwogaga) (same username as here and link in bio), support me there and read them early.