Bonus at 150 stones.
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The Throne Room, Red Keep.
Viserys seemed to breathe a sigh of relief, his cloudy gaze turning back to the Greens.
"And... you?"
Otto, Aemond, Aegon, Aelyn Rogar, Helaena, Daeron... a silent collection of bowed heads.
No one objected, and no one spoke up.
The King had already canceled the marriage alliance with Jacaerys.
This aligned with the core stance of the Greens against bastards.
But now, a new bond of internal, pure bloodline had been proposed.
The object was the Queen's biological daughter; this even counted as a form of compromise.
To object now had no foundation, morally or logically.
Otto's mind was racing.
'Perhaps this... wasn't a bad thing either. At least, the line involving Jacaerys was severed.'
Below the dais, Rhaenyra was plunged into confusion and pain.
Cancel one, and then offer another?
What did Father mean by this? A slap followed by a sweet date? Or... in his eyes, Jacaerys was already a Velaryon, no longer of his bloodline?
"Your Grace!"
She spoke with irrepressible grievance.
"Why are you doing this to Jacaerys? Is he not also of your blood, your grandson?!"
Cough...
Viserys was seized by a fit of coughing, his body hunched over, shaking all over.
Queen Alicent quickly patted his back.
When the coughing subsided slightly, Viserys could no longer speak, only wheeze painfully.
Alicent raised her eyes, looked at Rhaenyra, and spoke on the King's behalf.
"Enough, Rhaenyra!"
"Jacaerys Velaryon is now the legitimate heir to Driftmark! His Grace's meaning is already very clear. This matter requires no further discussion!"
"But I gave birth to him!" Rhaenyra blurted out, her eyes red, speaking through sobs.
"He will always be my child!"
Daemon, standing nearby, imperceptibly closed his eyes and sighed.
"Close your mouth... Rhaenyra."
Viserys drew a breath, pulling it in with such difficulty that his voice trembled.
But the severity in the King's words was something unseen for years.
"I am not dead yet... it is not your place... to question my decisions."
Having said this, the King collapsed entirely into the cushions, gasping for breath.
Rhaenyra was stunned by her father's unprecedented severity.
The color drained from her face, then quickly flushed red.
Her eyes were wide, but in the end, she offered no further rebuttal.
The hall was deathly silent. Only the King's painful gasps could be heard.
Supported by the Queen, Viserys used all his strength to tremblingly rise, little by little, from the Iron Throne.
"The last matter..."
"The succession... the future of the realm..."
He gasped heavily, his chest rising and falling.
"I declare..."
Viserys's trembling, branch-like fingers slowly lifted.
Finally, they pointed toward Rhaenyra below the dais.
"The Iron Throne... shall pass to Rhaenyra... and her..."
The last word had not yet left his mouth.
The body of King Viserys I suddenly stiffened.
His raised arm dropped weakly. A rattling sound came from his throat.
Then, his entire body pitched forward, stiff and straight!
Beside him, Queen Alicent quickly rushed to support Viserys.
"Your Grace!!"
"Father!!"
Inside the hall, gasps and screams erupted!
Queen Alicent screamed as she held the King. The white cloaks and attendants rushed to the King, their footsteps chaotic.
Utter chaos. Suddenly, complete chaos.
Aemond tilted his head in confusion, looking at Otto beside him.
Grandfather's face held a flicker of astonishment.
The astonishment was brief, but Aemond caught it.
Otto was somewhat speechless.
He had arranged for Larys and Orwyle to administer a sleeping draft strong enough to knock out a grown man for a day and a night.
Logically, the King should have collapsed halfway through his declaration.
Yet he had managed to hold on and finish the marriage contract, and had almost completed the succession order.
The plan had gone awry.
But now, the opportunity had also arrived, right in this chaos.
The guards who had been standing in the side corners, armored and holding halberds, suddenly moved as if they had received a silent command simultaneously!
Their steps were urgent but not frantic.
They quickly sealed all the side doors and passages of the Throne Room, instantly forming a human wall.
More fully armored guards poured out from behind the side corridors.
Instantly, they formed an impenetrable iron wall at the main entrance of the Throne Room!
Long halberds were leveled, their blades gleaming coldly in the dim light.
Red Keep Guard Captain Luthor Largent, a knight with a scarred left cheek and a fleshy face, pressed his hand to his sword hilt.
He quickly and silently moved through the crowd, stood beside Otto, bowed slightly, and addressed him.
"Lord Hand."
Rhaenyra awoke from her initial stupor.
"Father!!"
She screamed, she roared, and was about to rush forward recklessly.
All thoughts of decorum, all thoughts of the Heir Apparent, shattered in that moment.
This was her father, the one who had spoiled her, indulged her, and made her his heir against all opposition!
Daemon grabbed her arm tightly, his fingers like iron tongs.
"Don't move!" he growled.
His gaze was sharp, instantly assessing the situation: the entire guard mobilization, the rapid sealing of passages, and Otto acting as the effective commander.
With the King unconscious, the Guard Captain was reporting to Otto, not the Heir Apparent.
The Greens were making their move in the chaos.
This was long premeditated, waiting only for the King to collapse, regardless of the manner of his fall.
Hand of the King Otto stepped forward, standing on the steps of the dais, looking down upon the hall.
Hand of the King Otto wore no expression. His eyes swept over the chaotic hall, over the panicked nobles, and finally rested on Rhaenyra, who was being held by Daemon.
"His Grace the King has suffered a sudden illness and is unconscious!"
He paused. His gaze met Daemon's. A cold light flashed in Otto's eyes.
"From this moment forth, the Red Keep is placed under full lockdown!"
"No one shall enter or leave without the King's command or my writ! All passages are to be sealed immediately!"
Daemon watched everything unfold. He released Rhaenyra, took half a step forward, shielding the Blacks behind him.
His hand rested on the hilt of Dark Sister.
"Lockdown?" he spoke.
"Otto, what are you trying to do? Take advantage of the King's collapse and put us under house arrest?"
Otto looked at Daemon expressionlessly.
"The Prince exaggerates. The lockdown is only to ensure His Grace's safety and prevent anyone from plotting mischief during the chaos."
"As for Your Highness the Heir..." He looked at Rhaenyra.
"Until His Grace's condition stabilizes, I must ask Your Highness to remain in the Red Keep. This is also for your safety."
"For safety?" Daemon smiled, a dangerous glint in his eye.
Before he could finish speaking.
"What are... you..."
A faint, intermittent, yet terrifyingly clear voice struggled out from the crowd, from the arms of Queen Alicent.
"doing?"
Everyone instantly fell silent.
King Viserys, surrounded by the crowd, had once again slowly opened his eyes!
His eyes were unfocused, his breath as weak as a candle in the wind, but he was indeed awake.
Otto's expression changed for the first time.
Not panic, but a reaction to being disrupted by the unexpected.
'How was this possible? Why was he awake again?'
'Dragon blood.'
'Damn Larys, damn Orwyle...' Otto looked toward Larys, the Master of Whisperers, who was nearby.
And Larys lowered his head.
Aemond stood among the Greens, watching Otto coldly, displeased with Grandfather Otto's unauthorized actions.
If it had succeeded, it would be another matter...
Viserys was barely propped up slightly by Alicent and the Kingsguard.
"Lockdown...?"
His gaze struggled to find Otto. He looked at him, his eyes filled with exhaustion and disappointment.
"Lord Hand... I... did not order a lockdown..."
He gasped, gathering his strength, and then said:
"Now... I hereby dismiss... Otto Hightower... from all duties as Hand of the King."
Following the King's declaration, there was a deathly silence.
The previously aggressive guards froze instantly, their faces showing hesitation and fear.
They looked toward Otto and then toward Guard Captain Largent.
Ser Luthor looked at Otto, and for the first time, hesitation appeared in his eyes.
Otto stood there, his face now ashen.
He looked at Viserys, and then he slowly lowered his head.
"As you command... Your Grace."
Viserys seemed to have used his last ounce of strength. He leaned against Alicent, his eyes half-closed, his voice faint yet clear.
"Today... ends here..."
"Everyone... leave..."
The guards blocking the entrance heard the command. The iron wall of men slowly yielded a passage.
The great doors were opened, and the afternoon light streamed in, stinging everyone's eyes.
The nobles, heads bowed, and steps hurried, almost fled the Throne Room.
No one spoke, no one lingered; there was only the sound of shuffling feet.
Rhaenyra was still somewhat dazed, the exhaustion of surviving the ordeal making her legs weak.
Daemon did not delay, immediately taking Rhaenyra to leave.
King's Landing was currently filled with the Greens' people, and if his brother Viserys died now... the consequences would be unimaginable.
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