Kambron realized that their plan had worked: the nobles from the Nine Free Cities who had come here would likely recover most of their expenses. Even Viserys's "Dragon Party" members would suffer heavy losses. In the aftermath, there was now a significant power vacuum in Tyrosh, and potentially across the Free Cities as a whole. If they could unite the nobles who opposed Lys's rule, they would wield immense power. The three of them could become more powerful than ever before.
"Have Strickland's men surround the palace in Tyrosh!" Kambron shouted excitedly to his guards.
Thanks to Viserys's request for banquet preparations, Kambron had been able to discreetly bring in some Golden Company mercenaries. Strickland, ever the loyal friend, had supplied 1,000 of the Golden Company's elite—a force that represented more than half of the company's combat strength. Strickland knew that if Viserys survived, he would undoubtedly cause trouble for the Golden Company. Even if Viserys didn't seek revenge, others would exploit the grudge between them to stir up conflict. Many exiled Westerosi in the Golden Company still hoped that Viserys could return them to their homeland, which would put Strickland at odds with his own sergeants-at-arms. Viserys had to die.
As Strickland saw the green flames rising from the Throne Hall, he exhaled deeply. 'The Golden Company's good days are coming,' he thought. 'Or perhaps, my good days are coming!' Viserys's fortune would soon be his.
It was late, and Kambron, Tregar, and Cassius weren't concerned about trivial matters like traveling separately. Their priority now was to capitalize on the situation and seize control of Tyrosh's financial, military, and political power. The three of them shared a carriage, speeding down the main road that Viserys himself had commissioned. The road led directly to the palace gates.
The explosion near the palace had already alerted most of the city. Today, the entire city of Tyrosh had been celebrating the victory, not just the royal palace. With Viserys having announced a 30% tax reduction for the year, the Tyroshi, who loved a good party, were ecstatic. Signs offering discounts on drinks were everywhere, and even the pleasure houses had slashed prices for soldiers returning from war.
But the sudden, ominous turn of events had shaken everyone from their revelry. Citizens now stood on the main road, staring anxiously toward the palace.
"Oh my gods! It's wildfire!" some of the more knowledgeable merchants and commoners exclaimed as they recognized the telltale green flames.
"Could it be... rain?" someone muttered hopefully.
"Don't be ridiculous! It's not going to rain!"
A sense of dread began to settle over the crowd. Many tried to reassure themselves that the young ruler, who had bravely led them against the Dothraki, could not be so easily killed.
"Move aside! Make way!" Kambron's groom shouted as they approached, but the streets were clogged with people celebrating. The main road, now twice as wide thanks to Viserys's improvements, was still packed with traders' stalls, donkey carts, carriages, and oxcarts, making progress slow and difficult.
"Damn it, what are you doing?" Kambron shouted at the groom as the carriage slowed to a crawl.
"My lord, the streets are completely jammed! We can't get through!" the groom replied, his voice strained.
"Idiot! Use the sidewalks!" Kambron barked. In his mind, nothing was more important than reaching the palace—he wouldn't hesitate to trample over commoners if it meant getting there faster.
Kambron's ruthless urgency shocked both Cassius and Tregar, but they understood the stakes. A coup was a race against time, and every second counted.
The carriage barreled forward, knocking down seven or eight people before finally arriving at the palace gates, where the Golden Company mercenaries had already begun their assault.
Suddenly, a commotion broke out among the onlookers inside the palace.
"Dragon! It's a dragon! Ser Mormont! Dick! Do you see it? It's a dragon!" Regis shouted, his excitement verging on hysteria. "Lord Griff! Lady Shiera, look! It's a dragon! A dragon!"
But the crowd ignored his shouts, their eyes fixed on the incredible sight before them—young dragons crawling over Dany's charred form. The dragons' shimmering scales reflected a dazzling array of colors, making it seem as though Dany were clad in the most magnificent armor.
"Kneel."
Before anyone could fully grasp what was happening, Benerro led a group of red priests forward, bowing low before Dany.
"Your Grace Daenerys Targaryen! May she reign long and bring peace!" Benerro declared.
Connington knew in his heart that Viserys was likely gone; otherwise, he would have emerged alongside Dany. But now was not the time to dwell on it. The immediate priority was to make it clear that with these young dragons, Dany could take Viserys's place as their leader.
"Kneel," Connington commanded, and one by one, the old captain, Feles, Dick, and the rest of the Dragon Party members followed suit. Previously, Viserys had earned the allegiance of the Free Cities nobles by capturing and executing the Horselord. Now, Dany, with the seven young dragons she had brought forth from the flames, commanded their genuine reverence.
Whether it was Viserys or Daenerys, the nobles cared only that they could lead. Yet, many still harbored affection for Viserys, and as they watched Dany emerge alone from the inferno, a pang of sadness touched their hearts.
"From today onwards, she is our Queen, Your Grace!" whispered the Flowers brother of House Tyrell.
Though the baby dragons appeared small and fragile, vulnerable even to a single blow, Viserys had left behind enough power to protect them until they reached adulthood. In the long run, the strength of House Targaryen would only grow—and quickly.
Suddenly, a new commotion arose outside, as if someone was preparing to launch an attack on the palace.