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Chapter 78 - Chapter 78. Strangler.

"Someone tried to kill my granddaughter, Rhaegar!" Rhaella shouted at her son.

The king remained silent, although no one missed the vein that stood out on his forehead. The tournament almost turned into tragedy when Jaehaerys' daughter nearly lost her life.

"A bastard child. Don't let people know that you favor her," the king ordered, then softened his expression. "I am very sorry about what happened. We are investigating the source of the poison. It wasn't in the crown initially; someone added it at some point," he told his mother. Rhaegar had not attacked the little girl; it really wasn't him who put the poison there.

But who could have predicted that Jaehaerys would crown his bastard?

Who expected Jaehaerys to participate in the melee? Someone had beaten Rhaegar to it, and that made him feel uncertain. If Jaehaerys had crowned Rhaenys, one of the three heads could have been dewinged before they could fly.

"Bastard or not, she has dragon blood." Rhaegar wanted to frown; his mother seemed to have become quite close to the girl. "I don't know how Jaehaerys saved her, but I thank the gods that he did," he finally sighed.

"Yes... The gods have always favored my little brother," Rhaegar said monotonously, but there was envy hidden in every word.

"I want the Imp's head," said Rhaellla.

"We don't know if it was him. There will be a trial, a proper investigation," said Rhaegar. He didn't really care much about Tyrion Lannister's life, but he was Tywin's son, not just any scapegoat.

"The Lannisters have been attacking the royal family for a long time, ever since this damn tournament began," said Rhaella, with the same calmness as a knight in the midst of battle. "Every time you let them get away with it, you look weak to the kingdom," she reproached him, trying to be tactful, but it was impossible.

"Watch your words, Mother," Rhaegar warned.

No one knew better than he what he was dealing with in every interaction with the Lannisters. They had a lot of power, and that favored the royal family, for the moment. But soon the time would come when the dragon would teach the lion its place. Melissandre had promised him. She had found a way to bring the dragon eggs to life. She needed sacrifice, and the battlefield was the ideal place.

His half-brother, Aegon Waters, would help him.

"You have been a good king," Rhaella calmed down a little. "But you cannot allow the Lannisters to feel that they are above us. What will happen to Aegon? Will Myrcella control him? A pawn of the Lannisters?"

'Over my dead body,' thought Rhaegar. Myrcella would be Aegon's third wife, a mere hostage, and her children would have no rights beyond the Rock.

"Peace is fragile," said Rhaegar. When the truth was that he lacked power, he lacked support. After the war, he granted the Lannisters too much freedom. They had ties to the Riverlands, and Tywin was raising the heir to the Vale. There were three kingdoms. Not counting the Stormlands and the North, which were very unlikely to support him.

"So is your will," Rhaella said as she turned and stormed out of the room.

'My will will save the kingdom, Mother. You are too blind to see the whole image,' Rhaegar thought, his fist clenching around the worn gold cup, the only cup from which he ever drank.

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"The prince cannot..." The guard lost consciousness after his head hit the wall. Jaehaerys did not know if he killed him; he was just a poor idiot who got caught in his path.

He kept walking, knocking out every man who stood in his way. He didn't spill blood, not with his face showing. Finally, he reached the "cell," although it was more like a room in the Red Keep. Inside were the two Lannister brothers, Jaime and Tyrion.

"Jaehaerys," Jaime reached for the hilt of his sword. Jaehaerys's hand prevented him from drawing it. "You can't—" The panic in his eyes faded as he fell to the floor, unconscious.

Finally, he looked at the main suspect, Tyrion. At first glance, he didn't seem scared, sitting there with a glass of wine in his hand. Jaehaerys watched him sweat, his mismatched eyes darting around the room, except for him.

"Can you turn him over?" he asked, pouring another glass of wine for the prince.

Jaehaerys kicked Jaime, who ended up on his back, staring at the ceiling.

"It seems rather luxurious for what would be a prison," said the prince. There were books and a huge bed; he wouldn't be surprised if the dwarf were waiting for prostitutes to relieve the tension between his legs.

"You came unarmed," Tyrion pointed out. Jaehaerys took the glass from the table and spilled the wine on the floor. Then he closed his fist, and the glass gave way, left deformed like the face of the little man in front of him. "Impressive," said the dwarf. Tyrion tried to repeat the feat, but the metal did not yield, leaving only his fingerprints on the cup.

"You look so guilty," said Jaehaerys.

"Did you come to kill me?" asked Tyrion.

"It depends on your answers," the prince's voice was dry. He wouldn't mind killing the dwarf, but getting his men out of the Westerlands would be a mess.

He didn't know if Tyrion had poisoned his daughter; it was doubtful. Not even the Lannisters would be foolish enough to do that. If the Lannisters had known he would be participating in the tournament, they would have sent more men to participate. They could add men until they reached 100 participants. No one would say anything to them.

No, it was someone else, someone who knew he would participate, someone who hoped he would win. It wasn't the Lannisters, nor Rhaegar. The king's distraught expression was genuine.

"An interrogation, then? Is wine permitted?" Tyrion asked, raising the cup to his lips.

"Go ahead, it'll be like a last drink before I die," the Imp choked before laughing awkwardly, his eyes watering slightly. "I want to see your hand."

"Maybe it would have been better if I had stolen one of my sister's jewels. She left quite a few behind before she left," the dwarf joked lightly.

"Shut your mouth, or I'll shut it for you," Jaehaerys said, not in the mood for his nonsense.

The dwarf's hand was red and covered in small purple dots. The amount of poison on them was minimal, not enough to kill him for holding the crown for just a few seconds. No, whoever put the poison there planned for whoever wore the crown to absorb the poison slowly.

Strangler was the name of that poison. It wasn't a pleasant name, and its effects were even worse. In the series, the poison used to kill Joffrey was one of the most enjoyable scenes. It acted extremely quickly after being ingested. In this case, they placed it on the crown so the skin could absorb it. His daughter got that crown in her mouth, so the poisoning just accelerated its process.

Jaehaerys thought about those involved in the contest. At first, he thought the target was him, but there were other possibilities. Who had the best chance of winning? Balon Swann, Sandor Clegane, and the Blackfish. Who would they crown? Balon would likely crown someone from the royal family, probably Queen Rhaella, or Myrcella. Sandor would throw the crown on the ground or crown a random lady. The Blackfish would crown Sansa or Myrcella too, both of whom were his nieces.

"Who designed the crown? Who looked after it? Who delivered it?" asked the prince.

"Jaehaerys!" Eddard Stark entered the room with his guard following him.

"Ah, Lord Stark, you came?" Tyrion asked.

Ned calmed down when he saw the room was free of blood. He glanced at Tyrion, pure contempt contained in his gray eyes.

"I need to talk to you, Jaehaerys," he said before leaving the room. "Don't kill the Imp," he warned. Eddard probably wanted him dead, but he didn't want him to die without a trial.

"I don't know who designed the crown, or who looked after it, but it was given to me by a blonde girl, quite beautiful. A whore, I recognize them. I'm a good taster," Tyrion said.

'A whore,' thought Jaehaerys, leaving the room to meet Ned. He heard Tyrion vomiting inside the room after he left.

"You made a mess," Eddard said. "The Lannisters won't be happy."

"And do I look happy, Eddard?" Jaehaerys asked, his eyes fixed on Lord Stark's. "You spoke to Baelish, didn't you?" Ned's surprised expression told him everything. "I wondered why he hadn't come to the tournament. It turns out he was in the shadows."

'What other bastard would want to start a war?' Jaehaerys wondered.

"What? He told me that Tywin's brother, Kevan, bought the strangler from an Essosi merchant." Eddard gave up waiting for an answer.

"Do you know where Baelish is?" Eddard told him the brothel where the master of coins resided.

Probably Ned, innocent Ned, believed that Jaehaerys wanted to get information from Peter Baelish.

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