The secret chamber Freygo had prepared for everyone was completely silent.
After a long while, Quairo finally rose and personally lit the lamps around the room.
"Hahahahahaha!"
A sharp burst of wild laughter suddenly pulled everyone out of the gloom of their failed attempt.
They turned around and saw that it was Robert.
"Look at that!
All I need to do is put a little effort into the women and I can make Viserys scramble around helplessly.
We can try an assassination like this at least ten more times! It's nothing. Let's do it again!"
Robert spoke without the slightest concern, his eyes already searching for the red-robed holy woman he had been with not long ago.
Eddard, however, simply could not agree with Robert's decision.
Just as he was about to persuade him, Jurt, who had planned the assassination, stepped forward.
"King Robert, an assassination like this places an enormous strain on the person performing it.
If you try again, you may not even have the strength to take the field."
In truth, there was something else Jurt did not say.
The shadow assassin's performance had been thoroughly disappointing.
If Joffrey had absolutely no king's blood in him, then Robert's problem was that the amount of king's blood within him was simply insufficient.
According to Jurt's original calculations, Robert was, after all, the King of Westeros.
Even if the shadow assassin could not kill Viserys, it should at least have been capable of seriously injuring him.
Yet Viserys had simply stopped the attack.
According to the records, such a thing could only happen when there was an enormous disparity between the purity of the king's blood in the assassin and that in the target.
Combined with the recent news of Harrenhal's fall and the rebellions of Highgarden and Dorne, Robert's title as king was becoming increasingly hollow.
"But where are we supposed to find king's blood now?"
Suddenly, quite a few people turned their eyes toward Eddard.
Eddard froze for a moment before immediately refusing.
"Absolutely not, Your Majesty!"
For a thousand years, House Stark had never stopped providing aid to the Night's Watch.
And from the day a man took his oath, the Night's Watch no longer participated in the politics of the Seven Kingdoms.
Then Eddard and the others suddenly remembered.
There was still a Targaryen on the Wall.
Aemon Targaryen.
Seeing Eddard's refusal, Robert suppressed his irritation.
He looked at the brother who had grown up alongside him and spoke.
"Everyone else, leave. I want to speak with Lord Eddard alone."
This was Freygo's territory, but since Robert had said so, Freygo had no reason to embarrass him.
Stannis was the first to leave, apparently unwilling even to watch what was about to happen.
Once everyone else had departed, Robert spoke.
"Ned, I haven't been doing well these past few years."
Seeing this king, built like an ox, wearing such a wounded expression, Eddard's face became complicated.
"Joff isn't my son. Cersei is a damn whore. I'm probably the most ridiculous king in the world."
In truth, Eddard and many others had already suspected as much.
When they first arrived in Braavos and saw Joffrey, the boy's face had been deathly pale, his expression dull and sluggish, as though he were an old man nearing the end of his life.
Quairo had then acted on Freygo's behalf and told Robert everything exactly as it was.
After learning the truth, Robert's feelings were extremely complicated.
He was both happy and miserable.
He was happy because Joffrey was not his son. He was miserable because Joffrey was not his son.
When he had previously heard that Tyrion was in Gohor, he had still clung to a sliver of hope.
Yet he had already been unwilling to get close to Joffrey.
Now that the evidence was right before him, he had no choice but to accept it.
So he had personally taken the field and created the shadow assassin.
And the reason that shadow assassin had failed was actually that his own blood was not good enough.
Not long ago, Robert had a dream.
He dreamed that he died in Essos.
He went to seek Thoros, but the prophecy Thoros gave him was that Robert would once again sit upon the Iron Throne.
Robert was lost.
Before the final battle against Viserys, he wanted to try one more time.
"Your Majesty, that may not necessarily be true. Just look at Robb. He doesn't resemble me at all..."
As Eddard spoke, however, his confidence gradually faded.
He had never doubted that Robb was his own son because he trusted Catelyn.
As for Cersei, that was much harder to say.
"If we fail, do you think your children will have a good ending? Think about Sansa.
How old is she? I know my second son isn't worthy of your eldest daughter, but I will do everything I can to make it up to her.
Ned, help me one more time!"
In truth, Robert did not even dare think about whether Tommen was his son.
Nor did he dare consider whether that daughter of his might also be a Lannister pure enough to have no trace of Baratheon blood at all.
Eddard looked at Robert pleading with him.
He turned his face away and spoke quietly.
"Your Majesty, I can die for you on the battlefield, but I cannot do this."
"Then get out! Get out! Take your Northern army and go guard your damned block of ice!"
Robert's roar shook the chamber.
Those waiting outside already understood the outcome of their conversation.
Robert stormed out of the secret chamber, while Eddard followed shortly afterward.
Eddard knew that even without his permission, Robert would not necessarily be unable to obtain old Aemon.
Whatever Robert intended to do, he would continue pursuing it.
After Eddard had gone some distance with his attendants, Robb suddenly approached and reported.
"Father, Lord Bolton has been killed. A great many other Westerosi nobles have also been executed by Viserys."
Eddard stared at Robb in disbelief.
He took the intelligence from his son's hands and began reading.
The message was very short and could be read at a glance... Yet Eddard read it several times.
Something about it felt wrong.
Based on everything he knew about Viserys, he was absolutely not the sort of man who would allow his emotions to cloud his judgment.
"My lord, it seems the Targaryen madness has awakened in Viserys!"
Greatjon said from nearby.
"My lord, we should tell the others about this immediately!"
Cregan spoke up as well.
Viserys had slaughtered nobles. That would inevitably force many of the others to choose Robert's side.
The coming battle for Braavos would probably claim countless lives.
The only thing they could be thankful for was that Viserys was short on troops.
If they could bring down his dragons, the defense that followed would become much easier.
But at that moment, another piece of news arrived.
"He directly incorporated those Westerosi soldiers into his own army!?"
Freygo looked as though he could not believe his ears.
What kind of madman would do something like that?
Yet after learning the details, it actually began to make perfect sense.
Viserys was offering them far too much.
Three years of military service in exchange for 10 hectares of land.
In Westeros, there might be no slaves, but land was the very tool the lords used to keep the common people under their control.
If Viserys returned to Westeros and tried to introduce such a system there, he would certainly face fierce opposition.
But the affairs of Westeros could be left for the people of Westeros to worry about.
All Viserys knew was that he could now confidently fight alongside those Westerosi soldiers and have them help defend Braavos.
Freygo turned his head toward the south, as though he could see through the mountains and glimpse the Targaryen dragons beyond them.
"Braavosi never kneel to a Dragonlord!"
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