The uproar from the last match hadn't fully died when the royal herald's voice rang out again.
It yanked everyone's attention from the humiliated Sandor Clegane back to the carnival's main event.
The Knight of Flowers, Ser Loras Tyrell!
The Mountain, Ser Gregor Clegane!
The moment the words dropped, the tourney grounds exploded!
Beauty versus the Beast.
The Seven Kingdoms' most handsome, most beloved knight—against its most brutal, most terrifying monster.
Loras Tyrell's entrance was, as always, flamboyant to the extreme.
He rode a snow-white steed. His silver plate armor carved with golden roses. Gleaming in the sun.
Like a hero stepped from a song.
He blew kisses elegantly toward the noble ladies on the high platform. Drew screams loud enough to lift the roof.
His opponent, the Mountain, Gregor Clegane.
He rode silently on his black stallion—larger than any normal warhorse. Stopped at the other end of the track.
He hadn't even changed his armor, still stained red with Ser Hugh's blood. The cold steel reeked of gore under the scorching sun.
On the high platform, Littlefinger's face had regained its calm.
He'd gotten a fresh cup of wine. Watched the restless white mare in the arena. Then looked at the Mountain's ungelded, temperamental stallion.
His lips curled into a confident smile.
That crow Lynn's luck has run out.
Next, he'll face the Seven Kingdoms' peak knights!
Any one of them could crush him easily.
And now—now I'll truly begin harvesting wealth!
"BEGIN!"
Robert's impatient roar. The horn blew.
The charge began!
The Mountain's warhorse launched instantly.
Each heavy hoofbeat pounded like a war drum on every heart.
But the moment the charge started—chaos erupted!
The Mountain's black stallion suddenly shrieked with agitation!
Its bloodshot eyes locked onto the white mare across from it. Hot breath blasted from its nostrils.
The charge momentum stuttered.
A mare in heat—for an ungelded stallion—was irresistible temptation!
"YAH!"
Gregor roared. Drove his spurs deep into the horse's flanks!
The horse screamed in pain. Accelerated again.
But the charge was completely deformed. The horse's head veered uncontrollably to one side. Couldn't hold a straight line.
Loras's face showed an elegant, contemptuous smile.
Everything. Under control.
CRACK!
A crisp impact.
Loras's lance struck the Mountain's shield precisely.
The massive force made the Mountain's form lurch violently in the saddle.
The Mountain's lance—which should have been lethal—lost control due to his mount. At a laughable angle, it slid past Loras harmlessly.
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