-Chapter 113-
-3rd POV-
The celebration banquet continued late into the night and went off without a hitch; everyone was glad that peace had once again settled over the kingdom and that gold would start flowing freely once more.
However, the king, though pleased, had one last matter to attend to. Towards the end of the banquet, he excused himself and visited his former Hand of the King, now a prisoner in the black cells.
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-MC's POV-
"Tyrion, Tyrion, Tyrion," I said, looking at the dwarf sitting dejectedly at the back of his cell, looking ready to die at any moment.
"You truly make me want to vomit."
"Not out of disgust but out of anger. You were supposed to gain experience, and once your father inevitably passed, you would become my Hand. But instead, look at you, about to die for a crime that could have been justified at the right time," I said, annoyed and disappointed in the dwarf in whom I had placed great hopes.
He looked up at me, then said with an almost mocking grimace:
"Sorry to have disappointed you, Your Majesty. I hope seeing my head on a spike will help you forget your annoyance with me."
I sniffed disdainfully, then said to the jailer, "Open the door."
The jailer obeyed without delay, and then I told him, "Unshackle this abominable dwarf."
The young jailer tried to warn me, stammering before being cut off by Sandor: "Are you sure your..."
"The king has given you an order, boy," said Sandor to the young jailer, who was about my age.
He quickly did as told, and then I signaled him to leave.
To the now unchained dwarf, I said, "Tyrion, I like you, and I sympathize with you, so let's be clear from the start, this is your last chance, mess up, and you die."
He nodded, still dazed, and then said, "Thank you, I'll take my role as Hand seriously this time, I promise..."
"Wait, I don't want you to be my Hand, I've clearly seen you don't have what it takes for that. No, I have a more delicate mission, and I'm counting on you to carry it out," I said before spending the next half-hour explaining his mission.
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-3rd POV-
-21st day of the 8th moon, 299 AC-
The five days following the king's arrival were marked by all sorts of celebrations by both the nobility and the people in the capital; everyone was happy or pretending to be, seeing the House of the Dragon regain total control over the increasingly divided seven kingdoms.
However, the festive atmosphere in the capital was limited to it alone, as the rest of the kingdom was in chaos following what was called 'the 14 days of the sparrows' exterminations,' where, over two weeks, 123 septons, 1567 knights, and 7000 people were murdered across the seven kingdoms, all of whom were part of the Order of Sparrows under the authority of the High Septon of Oldtown.
Everyone knew who had ordered this mass assassination because it was signed either the septuaries of the septons or the houses of the knights and serfs who were killed had all been destroyed with a green fire capable of melting metal, and this fire was accessible only to the crown.
A wind of horror blew over the entire kingdom once the news spread, proving once again that King Aegon feared nothing and no one, and that anyone who opposed him would end up like the septons, knights, the 7000 loyal families to the Grand Sparrow's cause, or the entirely exterminated Ironborn people.
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-Royal Council-
All members of the Royal Council present in the capital gathered today at the king's request to discuss the situation in the kingdom. The festivities and celebrations had occupied the king so much that he had not found a minute to dedicate to the boring but necessary tasks incumbent upon him as King.
At the table, everyone stood up when the doors opened and the king walked in, accompanied by the Lord Commander of his Royal Guard.
The king surveyed the room and the people gathered there, and once properly seated, he said, "Take your seats."
Once everyone was comfortably seated, the king opened the council by asking, "Does anyone here have a matter to submit to the council?"
"Yes, I have one," said Oberyn Martell, who had been released a week after the king's arrival on condition that the warehouses of Sunspear would host all the crown's cargoes in exchange for a small financial compensation.
"Please, begin Prince Oberyn," said the king with a falsely nonchalant air.
"I would like my nephew to be released immediately; he did not participate in any conspiracy against you."
"I have evidence that he is not your sister's son, and you should see it too by looking at him; he is not your nephew. That alone is a crime worthy of beheading."
"You're not sure either; no one can know. You were not present when my supposed nephew died. Maybe what he told is the truth, and he was actually saved by Varys."
"I strongly suspect Varys was involved in a plot to overthrow the legitimate Targaryen lineage to place the Blackfyre lineage with the help of his friend Illyrio Mopatis, who is on the run at this very moment, which in itself is an admission of guilt sufficient to condemn him for high treason."
"He wasn't aware."
"And you think that would have stopped him? Do you think that if Illyrio Mopatis had managed to provoke a religious war, Aegon VII would not have taken advantage of this moment to become the hero of the story? Do you think he would have remained loyal? That he would have spared your niece who is currently carrying my heir in her womb, or would she have suffered the same fate as the supposed mother of this Blackfyre?" said the king in an icy tone, completely indifferent to his master of laws' plea.
Faced with this avalanche of questions, Oberyn Martell was unable to directly respond, which made the king softly smile and add, "That's what I thought, let's move on."
"Your Majesty."
A frown marked the king's forehead upon hearing his master of laws call out again, and he said, "What now!!!"
"As master of laws, I must remind you that a bundle of suspicions does not constitute proof."
"I condemn him."
"I demand a trial by combat," he said quickly.
"You're opposing the crown for this usurper?" said the king, shocked by the decision of the Prince of Dorne.
"Leave."
The Prince of Dorne kept silent, which irritated the king, who eventually ordered him to leave.
"As long as I have a doubt, I can never..." he tried to explain.
"Retire, you are dismissed, Prince Oberyn Martell," said Connor, the Master Assassin, feared by all since 'the 14 days of the sparrows' exterminations,' in an icy tone.