Pointing at the unconscious Bart, he sarcastically remarked, "This knight seems very disagreeable to me, and he's even more discriminatory towards us, the people of Dorne."
"That's wrong."
The lance sliced Bart. With a smirk, the young Dornishman said, "I heard a saying that women in the Vale aren't as beautiful as goats. Is it true?"
"To be honest, I haven't experienced what it's like to be a woman in the Vale. I don't know. Is it really worse than being a goat?"
He kicked Bart in the head and taunted, "Hey, Knight of the Vale, give me your opinion and provide some reference."
Multiple wounds made Bart bleed profusely and feel dizzy.
As the young Dornishman kept chattering, Bart took a deep breath and moved the corners of his lips, as if he wanted to say something.
The young Dornishman knelt down, grabbed him by the hair, and said with a fierce smile, "If you want to speak, speak up louder."
"Cough, you bastard... Dorne... a monkey..."
He coughed up two mouthfuls of blood. Bart spat bloody phlegm all over the opponent's head and face, weakly laughing and cursing.
"Haha, damn Vale."
The filth enraged the young Dornishman, but he didn't kill him.
A merciful death is a gift.
He didn't want this old Vale knight to die so easily.
The lance pierced Bart's limbs one after another, each time twisting and turning in the flesh, causing extreme pain.
The torture lasted for a full ten minutes.
When Bart finally couldn't bear it anymore, he thrust the tip of his weapon through his throat.
Putting an end to his pain.
"Damn Dornishman, you'll be punished!"
Suddenly, a curse came from the seats outside the venue, followed by the throwing of an empty wine cup.
With a snap, it fell onto the muddy field.
This shout sounded like a call for venting.
More and more people in the audience stood up, shouting and throwing things at the young Dornishmen.
Wine cups, apples, plates...
even some women's high heels.
Rhaenyra was among the crowd, staring expressionlessly at the young Dornishmen who were moving around, mocking and laughing.
As a princess of the realm, she didn't have a good impression of the Dornish people.
Furthermore, her mother, Emma Aylin, was from the guardian family of the Vale.
The Dornish youth not only killed the Vale knights who were loyal to him but also shamelessly mocked the women of the Vale.
Undoubtedly, Rhaenyra's desire to kill was no longer inflamed.
"Cole, go out and fight him and kill him for me!"
Rhaenyra turned her head and gave Cole an order.
Cole looked ashamed, "I'm happy to serve the princess, and that Dornishman is really hateful."
"But I'm a Kingsguard and can't take the initiative to fight in a duel without the king's order."
"Then I'll find one. Someone who can make the decision."
Rhaenyra brushed off Cole, walked up to Viserys, and lowered her voice, "Father, that person is too arrogant and is trying to dishonor the kingdom."
"I can have Cole take action."
"He will definitely avenge Knight Bart."
Viserys was already very angry.
Although he agreed with his daughter's proposal, he kept his rationality and persuaded her, "Wait a moment, there are many brave knights in the realm, and the Kingsguard can't touch them without permission. They must give the young ones a chance to shine."
This statement made sense, Rhaenyra almost wanted to refute, but she finally suppressed the words that came out of her mouth.
The contest had to continue, and Leonor spoke to prevent the audience from insulting and attacking the young Dornishmen.
In front of everyone, the young Dornishman arrogantly said, "The Vale knights are vulnerable. Are there more powerful players? I long for real opponents, not just cowards and weaklings."
He laughed and demanded more. How arrogant.
"I'll do it!"
Such a hateful guy attracted a lot of hatred from the players, and a middle-aged knight in silver-gray armor stood up.
He took the initiative to walk to the competition field, holding a long sword in his hand, and said solemnly, "My name is Sol Barot. I come from the land of the Stormlands. Let me show you how to be an astonished man."
The young Dornishman smirked playfully, "Really? I hope you're as majestic as before, Knight of the Stormlands."
...
On the other side, the banquet area.
Sumptuous delicacies filled the rows of dining tables, and many aristocratic women and young people chatted around the same table, like at a tea party.
Rhaegar occupied only one dining table, cleared a large area in front of him, and placed the same cake.
Tell me what's the name.
Similar to chocolate chip cookies but shaped like a cake and with a sweet, chewy texture.
"It's so delicious. Who studied this?"
After taking a big bite of food, Rega's eyebrows arched, very unhappy.
"No, when I return, I have to ask Allison which cook is so good and ask him to make cakes for me in the future,"
Rega thought to himself this way.
While eating, suddenly a figure sat next to him.
In the skeptical eyes of Rega, he took a plate of chocolate cakes and brought it to his mouth to chew, looking very intoxicated.
"Where did this person come from and why did he eat my cakes?" Cursed
Rega secretly, but didn't say much after all. Anyway, there were still several plates left.
However, reality taught Rhaegar a lesson.
When something makes you unhappy, if you don't stop it, it will only make you more unhappy.
Rega had just taken a few bites when the other party was already devouring it.
A plate of cakes was devoured in the blink of an eye.
"It tastes very good, a good cook who does his job,"
murmured the other party and, without waiting for his reaction, grabbed another plate of pastries.
Then came the third set, the fourth set...
and with only the last set missing, Rega finally couldn't bear it anymore.
He stood up from his chair, protected the last plate of cakes in front of him, and asked aloud:
"Do you know who I am? Have you always been so bold as to steal my cakes?"
He spoke with great momentum. It's a pity he's too young.
Not to mention the childish voice, the increasingly round face is also harmless, like a child playing roughly.
The other party scratched his curly hair in distress and said with a smile, "You're a prince, but aren't cakes placed on the table for guests to eat?"
Rega became even more angry: "You know I'm a prince and you steal my cakes?"
"Don't miss the last plate. How shameless you are to compete with children for food!"
"Uh..."
"No one is young or old in front of delicious food. Besides, Prince, "You're a child. Eating too
many sweets will cause cavities."
"If you can't control yourself, just give me the cakes. I'm not afraid of cavities,"
said the other party shamelessly.
"Bastard, you still want to deceive me, do you really think I'm a three-year-old child?"
Rhaegar pointed at the other person and ordered Ilic, "Sir, teach him a lesson and let him refresh his memory." "Let's see if he still dares. Playing the rogue."
Ilic:...
"Yes, Prince."
Although he was unwilling to act at the banquet, the other party intimidated the prince when he was young, so he had to take action to maintain the prince's dignity.
Ilic didn't draw his sword but walked behind the opponent and extended his large hand to grab his shoulders.
"No, no, no, Lord White Knight, I think there's a misunderstanding between us."
"I can't control it. If you provoke people you shouldn't provoke, you'll have to endure certain consequences."
Ilic didn't have time to speak with him and pinched his shoulders. He wanted to throw him to the ground.
Snap:
Amidst flashes and sparks, a residual image struck Ilic's hand back, sharp and precise.
Feeling the pain, Ilic unconsciously let go, and a bruise appeared on the back of his hand.