Viserys had just destroyed someone's fleet, and now he was ruining their party. The scene was nothing short of face-palm-inducing. With a dramatic flourish, Viserys threw off his hat, revealing short silver hair, and strutted confidently into the hall. Despite the faint sound of explosions in the distance, the banquet was eerily silent.
The Lords of Westeros had spent the entire day shouting about Viserys, but when he finally appeared, they couldn't believe their eyes. After all, who would have thought that he would actually dare to show up? It was the living embodiment of the old tale, "Ye Gong"—the one who claimed to love dragons, but was terrified when he saw one.
After a few seconds of stunned silence, Jaime, the strongest of the Kingsguard, was the first to react. "Assassin! Arrest him!" he shouted.
But before he could finish, Viserys flicked his wrist, and a bright silver flash shot out, knocking off the stag's headpiece that Robert was wearing. The golden crown clattered to the ground with a loud clang, and Robert reflexively winced.
"Protect Your Grace!" This time, it was Robert's Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, Barristan, who gave the order. He and a few Kingsguard quickly moved to shield Robert.
"Robert!" Viserys began, his voice slow and deliberate, each word striking like a hammer blow. "This time next year, at Ruby Ford, I will kill you myself, you usurper!"
Viserys could have killed Robert right then and there, or even used fire magic to incinerate most of the guests. But that would not be conducive to his future rule. Such an act would earn him a reputation as a tyrant. Instead, he knew that a strong yet restrained monarch would command lasting obedience.
By this point, some of the lesser nobles had silently distanced themselves from Robert, leaving only the Kingsguard, Ned Stark, Tully, and the Lannisters closely surrounding him. They looked at Viserys not only with vigilance but also with awe.
"You dragonspawn brat! Then I'll kill you at Ruby Ford too! And make sure to have more gems set in your armor!" Robert retorted, his voice so loud that Ned, standing beside him, felt his eardrums buzz.
Viserys ignored him. It was time to use his manipulation skills. He turned his attention to Barristan, who stood in the front row.
"Barristan," Viserys began, "did you know that I defeated the Dothraki Khal Drogo not long ago? The Khal of the Dothraki all have their own Bloodriders, who are sworn to avenge their Khal's death and then kill themselves."
Barristan's eyes widened as he realized where Viserys was going with this, but he couldn't stop him. Viserys continued, his voice calm and measured, leaving Barristan no chance to defend himself.
"Those Bloodriders were all good men, loyal to the end. I even considered recruiting them. But guess what? I healed their wounds, fed them well, and in return, those bastards spat in my face!" Viserys paused, letting his words sink in.
"Ser Selmy, these are barbarians who know nothing of the Spirit of a Knight. But there were a few among them who showed some decency. One of them, a Bloodrider named Roka, before begging for death, took the clothes I gave him, cut them with his curved blade, and then killed himself."
Viserys's voice grew softer, more insidious, as he subtly alluded to Barristan's past. Barristan had chosen to pledge his loyalty to Robert because Robert had saved his life and pardoned him. This had been Barristan's psychological anchor, the support he had always used to justify his actions. But now, Viserys was mercilessly shattering that anchor, leaving Barristan feeling as if a pair of giant hands were twisting his stomach. His proud chest seemed to collapse inward, and the vitality in his eyes faded. The armor he wore felt like an empty shell, ready to shatter at the slightest touch.
Viserys's words also stirred the thoughts of the others in the room. The Dothraki, whom they had always dismissed as savages, suddenly seemed far more real, and far more terrifying.
Viserys, still unsatisfied, pressed on, his voice dripping with disdain: "It's bad enough that you failed to avenge my father, but you've stooped so low as to become the bodyguard of his enemy. I truly question the need for the White Cloaks if this is what they've become. The Kingsguard is now filled with a 'Kingslayer' and a 'Traitor,' and in terms of honor, you're not even as good as the savages!"
Barristan felt a wave of shame surge from the soles of his feet to the top of his head, the buzzing in his ears drowning out all other sounds. The very people who once looked up to him as a paragon of virtue now saw him utterly discredited. And what stung the most was that Viserys hadn't spoken a single falsehood. Barristan gasped for breath, realizing he had no words left to defend himself.
As for Jaime, the "Kingslayer," Viserys didn't even bother wasting his breath on him.
Turning to Robert, Viserys sneered, "Robert, how can you sleep at night, protected by such men? But then again, you didn't even notice when your wife was stolen, did you?"
Viserys cast a mocking glance at Cersei, his smile twisted with malice. She visibly flinched, as though she'd been marked by a predator, while Robert beside her radiated a dangerous aura, his anger barely contained.
Having mocked Robert and the Kingsguard, Viserys turned his scornful gaze to the other nobles. "Tullys, do you even remember who you're supposed to be guarding the Riverlands for? Do you recall who elevated you to the greatest lords of the Riverlands? Is this how you repay the trust of the Dragonlords?"
Edmure Tully, always slow with words, found himself completely tongue-tied, overwhelmed by the conflict between his loyalties.
"Oh, I remember," Viserys continued, his tone laced with irony. "The Conqueror Aegon knew you well back then. You were the Storm King's lackeys during the Durrandon dynasty, then you betrayed Harren when Aegon arrived, and you betrayed the Targaryens when Robert rebelled. Hahaha, 'family, honor, duty'—indeed, you like to emphasize whatever you lack. Why don't you just change your house words to 'Kneel easily' or 'Kneel! Kneel! Kneel!'"
Even Brynden Tully, who had long since distanced himself from his family, found Viserys' personal attacks unbearable. Yet he struggled to find an angle from which to refute the harsh truths laid bare.
'I can't let him say any more!' Ned realized that if Viserys continued his tirade, the already fragile alliance would shatter completely. Just as he was about to intervene, Viserys turned his gaze to him.
"Lord Ned, I still admire you Starks. What do you think of my conditions?" Viserys asked, his voice laced with a dangerous calm.
All eyes immediately shifted to Ned. The lords thought, 'Good on you, Ned. Who would've thought that you, with your bushy eyebrows and strong sense of honor, would betray us?' Even Catelyn felt the weight of their stares, including those of her two daughters, who looked to her for reassurance. In that moment, something inside her seemed to fracture—their family's symbol of 'morality.'
"The Starks will always be loyal to the Baratheons!" Ned declared solemnly, stepping forward to stand beside Robert once more.
"It seems you have made your choice. Good," Viserys replied, a cold smile spreading across his face.
Suddenly, the air was filled with a strange sound, and everyone looked up in shock. Three dragons, their wings vibrating with power, swooped down from the sky. The nobles let out panicked cries, ducking their heads in terror. Seizing the moment, Viserys leaped up and grabbed hold of a rope dangling from the dragons.
As the astonished crowd watched, Viserys was lifted over the city walls, disappearing into the night sky, leaving chaos in his wake.