The morning was overcast, cloudy and heavy. The red comet streaked across the sky, like a bleeding wound.
King's Landing was still King's Landing, but the people were different. The people of king's landing were worried, looking at the other celestial phenomena in the sky.
Sansa, Arya, and Septa Mordane had breakfast together. Sansa was still sulking, her face pulled down as she stared at her food, eating very little. Arya, on the other hand, gobbled up everything in front of her.
"Are your clothes packed?" Arya asked Sansa.
"Almost. I don't have to go to your dance class."
"That's not a dance class, that's sword fighting."
"Whatever you say, but if you can go to class, why can't I say goodbye to the prince?"
"The prince? He's a cruel prince. Father has his reasons for saying that. When we return to Winterfell, everything will be clear," Arya said.
"Father must be mistaken. I'm going to marry the prince. I'll love him like Queen Naerys loved Dragonrider Aemon, and like Jonquil loved Florian. I want to be his queen and bear his children."
"Don't even think about it. Father said that Joffrey's marriage to you was a terrible mistake. Joffrey is a liar and a coward. He will find you another brave, gentle, and strong young man, a nobleman worthy of you."
"You're lying."
"Yes, Sansa, I'd be happy to go with you and not miss the time. But this is Lord Eddard's command, and we can only obey. His Lordship must have his reasons, and you shouldn't doubt his decision," Septa Mordane said.
"This is so unfair!" Sansa pushed back, knocking over her chair, and fled the study in tears.
Septa Mordane stood up. Arya looked at the Septa and said softly, "I hope you'll keep a close eye on her. She's still infatuated with that idiotic prince. This matter is very important; my father has repeatedly stressed it."
"Understood, Lady Arya," the Septa said to Arya.
Arya looked at the empty dining table. No father, no Jon, even the Septa and Sansa had left. This was King's Landing, always making Arya feel terrible and fearful.
Arya could only wish her father's plan success in her heart. She wasn't like Sansa, who was mesmerized by the decadence of King's Landing; she was a vigilant She-wolf. "We only have a hundred men, but House Lannister has many, many more."
"Is the King really dead?" In Maegors Holdfast, Cersei asked Lancel.
"The King suffered a tearing wound, from his groin to his chest. I've never seen such a severe injury. I fear he won't live much longer; he's lost too much blood," Lancel said, trembling.
"Did the Old Wolf not go hunting that day?"
"No." Lancel shook his head. "When they were drinking in the tent, I watched how much they had. Lord Eddard didn't get up the next day."
"Very good, but Robert will surely say something to the Old Wolf. I need to prepare early," Cersei mused.
When Eddard returned to River Gate with the King's and the boar's bodies, the atmosphere was already highly unusual. This pitifully small funeral procession seemed like a joke. Renly had already fled with his guards, and Ser Barristan had also left under orders... Fully armed Lannister guards in scarlet cloaks waited at River Gate, and all of King's Landing could feel the ominous atmosphere. Eddard felt the scarlet lion banners were as glaring as blood. In this vast King's Landing, were there so few elements of House Baratheon?
Eddard watched the welcoming party, led by a group of six: Old Maester Pycelle, The Hound, Varys, Commander Janos of the City Watch in black and gold armor, Ser Boros, the White Knight, and of course, Littlefinger, whom Eddard disliked the most. It seemed Littlefinger had resurfaced and regained his position as master of coin.
"It seems my return was a mistake. I've made too many mistakes in my life. But I have no other choice." Eddard sighed; he was facing almost entirely enemies. He had a few potential allies, but now all were absent from King's Landing: Renly, Ser Barristan, Lord Stannis.
It seemed the enemies were prepared, and Eddard was destined to find it difficult to escape. But with his dear friend's coffin beside him, he could not abandon the duty of escorting the coffin, nor could he abandon his two daughters and his men.
As for Robert's will, Eddard felt he would be unable to carry it out. Considering the timing, Ser Barristan had a greater chance of success.
"The will seems impossible to produce." Eddard looked at the chaotic situation. The six people who came to meet him were almost all Lannister lackeys. Look at what Robert had left him: all sycophants and clowns.
"Lord Eddard, I didn't expect us to meet again, did you?" Littlefinger smiled slightly; his brief imprisonment had not affected him. Now he wore his blue velvet coat and gray mockingbird cloak, having resumed the air of the master of coin.
"You are a criminal condemned by the King. Why are you now appearing so openly, treating the King's will as waste paper?" Eddard asked.
"Lord Eddard, I don't know what you're talking about," Old Maester Pycelle interjected. "The King merely told Lord Petyr to calm down, but he was not dismissed."
"Whose order was that?" Eddard asked.
"Of course, it was our Queen, blessed by the old gods and new gods, who is now Queen Dowager Cersei," Ser Boros said righteously.
Eddard was annoyed in his heart. He had long known that this old man and Ser Boros were Lannister lackeys.
"Where are our Lord Renly and Lord Barristan?" Varys asked with a smile. He reeked of lavender, his fat face clean and powdered, but it clashed with the smell of the corpse. Eddard found it scandalous.
"Lord Renly, Lord Renly left the party early on urgent business. Ser Barristan, Ser Barristan also has a great duty," Eddard said.
"Oh, that's strange. Lord Renly probably won't be returning. Ser Loras also left King's Landing an hour before dawn this morning, taking some retainers with him. According to my intelligence, they are riding hard, undoubtedly heading for Storms End or The Reach."
Eddard was helpless. Renly's hundred soldiers were better than nothing. But Renly still felt King's Landing was too dangerous, the situation unfavorable.
"His Majesty King Robert is gone. May the gods above let him rest in peace. But Lord Eddard, as Hand, you bear a great responsibility..." The Old Maester bowed to Eddard. Eddard felt the chain around his neck seemed to weigh him down.
"The King has passed away, and my heart is heavy. I think perhaps the important ministers should first mourn together in the Tower of the Hand, in my study," Eddard murmured, his heart aching. What had to come, would come. The King hated rest; he loved love and laughter, and the joy of fighting for justice. When the King died, Eddard felt parts of his own heart die with him. The Tower of the Hand was the place he felt somewhat safe, but Eddard now dared not enter the council chamber.
"My Lord, I'm afraid that won't do. The Queen Dowager has already given orders. We still need to go to the Throne Room," the Old Maester said ponderously.
"That's right, Stark. The King has already had the Grand Steward issue orders. The Queen Dowager and the King request a Small Council meeting in the Throne Room," Littlefinger said with a smile.
"And your two daughters, the Queen has taken very good care of them," the Old Maester emphasized, a very direct threat.
Eddard's head buzzed. Bringing his two children to King's Landing truly was a mistake of mistakes. Before they could board a ship and leave, the situation became desperate and terrifying. Eddard had never imagined the situation in King's Landing would be so bad. But he had no choice; he wanted to see his children.
"The King is dead, but let's go with them anyway." Eddard looked at the crowd, not even having time to go to the Tower of the Hand to see his daughters. The situation was truly terrible. How should he choose, silence or duel? But he would never collude.
"Lord Stark, I advise you to speak carefully. If you are clever enough, you should flatter our King Joffrey," Littlefinger suddenly "kindly" reminded him. "Look how good your conditions are. Joff is your son-in-law. If you marry your younger daughter to Tommen and your heir marries Myrcella, the lion and the wolf will be as close as family."
Eddard said nothing. What Littlefinger said was indeed smooth. But his old friend's body was not yet cold; how could he abandon justice and duty for the sake of his own life? He had no choice.
Eddard followed them, having no choice but to push forward.
"Good old Stark." Littlefinger snorted and said no more. Honor was Eddard's armor, but this was King's Landing.
Entering The Red Keep, Eddard saw not only the scarlet Lannister soldiers but also many Gold Cloaks of the City Watch patrolling the walls and gates. These were not good omens.
Commander Janos of the City Watch, wearing ornate black and gold armor, with a high-plumed helmet tucked under his arm, nodded stiffly at the guards. His men pushed open the twenty-foot-tall, bronze-rimmed oak doors.
"Hail to His Majesty Joffrey the First, King of the andals, the rhoynar, and the first men, ruler of the seven kingdoms and protector of the realm, of House Baratheon and House Lannister!" Seeing them arrive, the Grand Steward proclaimed loudly.
Eddard had come a long way. King Joffrey was waiting for him on the iron throne. Eddard walked towards the Boy first, the others following closely. Eddard recalled the first time he walked this path, he held a longsword, rode a warhorse, and forced Jaime to step down from the throne. He and House Lannister truly had a lot of history.
"Everyone is truly here." Eddard saw all five Kingsguard present. The Kingslayer had returned to the Westerlands, and the Old Knight might have found a ship to Myr. The White Knights formed a crescent around the base of the throne. They were fully armed, clad from head to toe in exquisite armor and helmets, with long white cloaks flowing behind them, and shining white shields strapped to their left arms.
Cersei Lannister and her two younger children stood behind Ser Boros and Ser Meryn. The Queen wore a sea-green silk gown, embroidered with Myr lace as white as sea foam. On her hand was a gold ring set with an emerald the size of a pigeon's egg, and on her head a matching gold circlet.
Above them, in the spiky chair, sat Joffrey, dressed in a gold-threaded coat and a red satin cloak. The King's red satin cloak was embroidered with gold thread, with fifty roaring lions on one side and fifty leaping stags on the other. The Hound had come to see the King again, standing at the steep, narrow stairs of the throne. He wore smoke-gray armor and his grim dog-head helmet.
Behind the throne were twenty Lannister guards with longswords at their waists. They wore scarlet cloaks over their shoulders and steel helmets with lions on their heads. Along the walls, beneath Robert's tapestries depicting hunts and wars, stood the Gold Cloaks of the City Watch, each clutching an eight-foot spear with a black iron tip, ready for anything. Their numbers were five times that of the Lannister soldiers.
"I command the Small Council to make all haste in preparing my coronation. I wish to be crowned within two weeks. Today, I shall receive the oaths of fealty from the lords of the court," Joffrey announced, rising. Joffrey's gaze swept over the crowd. "Why are two people missing? Where is that Old Knight, and my joke-loving uncle Renly?"
"Lord Renly and Ser Barristan are on other business and have not yet returned to King's Landing," Eddard said, steeling himself.
"Oh, what business could be more important than escorting my father's coffin and my coronation?" Joffrey shouted. "I always knew they were traitors."
"Please, allow me to deliver this letter to the lady of House Lannister," Eddard said, handing the envelope to Varys, his heart in turmoil.
The content of the letter was simple, carefully written by Eddard. King Robert knew, he himself knew, that troops would soon gather from all four directions. But to protect her children, Cersei could still leave this place with them, fleeing as far as possible.
"Oh." Cersei glanced at Eddard, not understanding. "Come here then, Lord Eddard."
Varys handed Eddard's letter to Cersei. After reading it, the Queen tore it to shreds. "Are you trying to intimidate me, Lord Eddard?"
"We have a new King, Lord Eddard." Cersei looked at Eddard. "Kneel. If you swear fealty to my son, I will allow you to resign as Hand and return to that gray wasteland you call home to live out your days."
Eddard looked at everyone on the throne. It was time for a reckoning. "I'm sorry, I cannot swear fealty. Your son has no right to inherit the throne. Before his death, the King revoked your marriage and legitimized the bastard's claim. The King's throne rightfully belongs to his eldest son, Gendry Baratheon, with me as his regent."
"Liar!" Joffrey roared, his face crimson.
"Mother, what does he mean?" The princess looked plaintively at the Queen Dowager. "Isn't Joff the King now?"
"Lord Stark, you are seeking your own death. Seize him!" Queen Dowager Cersei cursed.
All the sounds of clashing metal rang out. The Hound was the first to draw his longsword. Twenty Red Cloaks, a hundred Gold Cloaks, and all five Kingsguard moved into action.
"Kill him!" Joffrey screamed.
"I have the King's writ, his will. Ser Barristan and I witnessed it together." Eddard drew his longsword, but the situation was like a lone boat in a vast ocean.
"We have a new King," Cersei sneered.
The Red Cloaks and Gold Cloaks were numerous, and there were also six masters like the White Knights and The Hound. The situation was naturally one-sided. Eddard's ten personal guards were all cut down.
One by one, the gray cloaks of House Stark fell, leaving only Eddard standing in the center of the crowd.
He was old after all, and no match for The Hound. The Hound's blood-stained longsword was placed at Eddard's throat, and several Red Cloaks rushed forward to pin him to the ground.
"In the game of thrones, there are only winners and losers." Cersei looked coldly at her vanquished foe. "You were leaving, why did you come back?"
"Poor Stark, now it's your turn to taste the Black Cells..." Littlefinger looked at Eddard and burst into laughter.
Eddard was speechless. The Throne Room, now a bloodbath, was beyond his control.
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