At that moment, the commander, Ser Ross Lagate, flushed red.
His gaze flicked to Aemond's cold face, then slid to the black dragon hovering overhead.
And then he glanced at the silent yet deadly bodyguards around him…
Ross's chest heaved sharply, and he scowled at Aemond.
"Your Grace! What do you mean?! The city garrison has always been loyal to the royal family! You intend to—"
"Ser Ross," Aemond interrupted.
"On behalf of the royal family, on behalf of the Queen Regent, I am here to announce the final order. That is all."
He paused for a moment and stared across the crowd.
"Do not forget: the Queen is now Regent."
"You…" Ser Ross swallowed, all words blocked in his throat.
Though once directly under the King, now the Regent was the Queen, and he had no choice but to obey.
Aemond stepped forward and stood at the very edge of the platform, looking down at the thousands of men below, their faces twisted in fear, anger, and confusion.
Above them, Lathron obeyed, lowering himself to hover almost directly overhead. The dragon's massive shadow and invisible power pressed down on them.
"All," Aemond's voice rang clearly across the yard, "kneel before me now and do not look up."
"Then obey my commands."
Ser Ross trembled with rage, glancing at the countless bows and arrows aimed at them, at the dragon's crimson eyes in the sky, all words choking in his throat.
Ross looked around, and most of the officers who normally treated him with respect also lowered their heads, avoiding his gaze.
Fear and anxiety gripped the hearts of the overwhelming majority.
"Kneel!" Captain Hel, Aemond's bodyguard on the platform, shouted sharply.
"Kneel!" The Harrenhal guards outside the perimeter roared in unison, their spears striking the ground with a dull, precise thud.
First, on the high platform, officers behind Ross took the initiative and dropped to one knee.
Aemond looked on with satisfaction; those who understood the significance of the moment knew the meaning.
Then, across the playground, it spread like an invisible wave.
Starting from the high platform, the Gold Cloaks fell to their knees one by one—fearful or stunned.
Dozens, hundreds, thousands…
In the end, aside from Ser Ross and a few officers behind him, nearly everyone was kneeling.
Over four thousand men on the platform and yard pressed their foreheads to the cold ground.
Ser Ross looked at the dark sea of kneeling soldiers, slowly turned to Aemond, and his voice was dry:
"Your Grace… what the hell… what do you intend to do?"
Aemond did not reply immediately.
He surveyed the submissive crowd, ensuring no one dared defy him further, then slowly said,
"And now, rise."
"I said, I am here to pay for this."
The kneeling soldiers exchanged wary glances, no one daring to move.
"Rise!" The Harrenhal guards shouted again in unison.
The trembling Gold Cloaks rose one by one, confusion and anxiety painted on their faces, eyes nervously fixed on the prince.
Aemond gestured to the wooden chests filled with gold dragons.
"These are your rewards, and a new beginning."
He paused deliberately, drawing everyone's attention before continuing:
"By the command of Queen Alicent, Regent, from this day forward, the name of the city garrison will enter history."
Buzzing murmurs rose from the crowd below.
Disband the garrison?
What would they become in the future?
Aemond raised a hand, and the noise quickly subsided, leaving only nervous breaths.
"You will no longer be the city garrison, confined to guarding the gates and patrolling streets and alleys.
The Crown will fund new barracks beyond King's Landing.
You will become the first members of the Royal Army.
Your duty will extend beyond the city of King's Landing—to guard the entire royal domain."
Royal Army? The name stirred doubt and speculation in the eyes of veteran Gold Cloaks.
Did it mean higher status—or greater danger?
"Accordingly," Aemond continued, dropping another bait, "your pay will also increase significantly."
"All regular soldiers—your monthly pay rises from sixty-five silver stags to one gold dragon!"
"A gold dragon?!" The exclamations could no longer be contained, rippling through the crowd like a tide.
Double their monthly pay!
Fear and anxiety were instantly replaced with exhilaration at the tangible reward.
Countless eyes scanned the golden chests, breaths growing heavy.
For many soldiers from poor families, nothing wins the heart like real money.
"Promote the officers," Aemond added.
"The Royal Army needs loyal and brave warriors, and the royal family never hesitates to reward those who serve faithfully."
Ser Ross felt his heart freeze in an icy pit.
Raise military pay, restructure, and rename the garrison as the Royal Army…
This was Aemond's method to digest, disperse, and reorganize the Gold Cloaks into a force directly under his control.
Ross asked reluctantly, "Your Grace! This… who was responsible for the city's original defense?"
Aemond's gaze turned cold.
"In the future, the daily order and security of King's Landing will be managed by my bodyguards."
Additionally, the Regent would soon select trusted men from the children of loyal noble vassals of the Seven Kingdoms to form the "Praetorian Guard."
Afterward, the Praetorian Guard would be chiefly responsible for defending King's Landing, numbering about three thousand.
Then his gaze fell on Ser Ross and the officers who had refused to kneel.
"You, who have served King's Landing for many years and labored diligently, I will report to Queen Regent for your credit.
Afterward, the royal family will grant you a generous pension, enough to retire comfortably."
Retirement? Stripped of military power? Ross felt blood rush to his skull.
He had fought alongside Prince Daemon in the bloody battles on the Stepstones, earned countless scars, and been recommended by Daemon himself for the command.
And now, because of this prince's words, he would be dismissed like a dog?
"I…" he began to protest.
Aemond had already taken a scroll from his hands and handed it back.
Ross took it; his fingertips were cold.
The handwriting of Viserys I ran across the parchment, ending with the fire-painted sigil of the Targaryen three-headed dragon.
He quickly scanned its contents; his face grew paler by the moment—Viserys had entrusted all military and political affairs of King's Landing to Queen Alicent with full authority.
The last vestige of luck was gone.
Great impotence and fury nearly choked him.
Finally, he could only lower his head and force the words out:
"I… I am ready to obey the royal family's arrangements."
Behind him, the officers could only whisper helplessly,
"I wait and will obey the royal command."
"Very well. You may step aside." Aemond stopped looking at them.
Ser Ross led the men down from the high platform, through the crowd on the playground.
Wherever he went, his former subordinates avoided his gaze or bowed their heads.
He knew his time here was over.
At that moment, he only wished to leave quickly and hand everything over to Prince Daemon, who now controlled the forces of King's Landing.
And Aemond did not intend a full purge.
The Green Party now firmly controlled the political situation in the Red Keep and King's Landing, and the garrison—having just seized power—was still consolidating its strength.
Indeed, many hearts remained loyal to Daemon, but unless he was utterly mad, Aemond would not execute these people along with their families—tens of thousands of lives.
Especially this group of officers, mostly from royal families.
The best method: adapt and integrate them into the new system, so in the future, under reasonable leadership and combat deployment, they would serve naturally.
Finally, he would call upon the king's noblemen, demanding they fulfill their vassal obligations and provide troops to the Targaryens.
His planned Royal Army would number over ten thousand.
The kingdom had been peaceful for many years, the treasury full, and instead of hoarding coin, it would be used to forge a loyal sword.
Releasing Ross was also a way to catch more "fish."
For example, Lady Meesalia, hiding in Flea Bottom, Daemon's former lover, was now head of intelligence in King's Landing.
In the past months, he had visited her in secret but found no trace of the woman.
Since the king confirmed the Queen Regent, she had vanished into the Flea Bottom maze.
Aemond said nothing further and turned away.
Jaspy began organizing the first soldiers to receive their gold dragons.
The ringing coins poured into rough cloth sacks and were handed to the men.
The weight and the golden glow brought almost ecstatic smiles to many faces.
They held the large gold coins, shouting joyfully, almost forgetting the fear and humiliation moments before, and forgetting their former commander had just been swept aside.
"Long live the royal family!"
"Thank you, Queen Regent!"
"Thank you, Your Grace Aemond!"
Applause gradually grew, echoing across the camp.