Game of Thrones: Second Son of House Targaryen

Chapter 351: Robert’s Fury II

“Melisandre said that Viserys has sacrificed the blood of a king,” Stannis replied coldly.

“I have also sacrificed the blood of a king!” Robert angrily brought his hands together in front of Stannis, showing him the wounds on his palms and wrists. "It's still hot. She is a liar, a whore, and a bitch!"

Stannis, his face stern, responded, “Your Grace cannot insult a Shadowbinder who serves you.”

“You are nothing but rubbish and a fool! How could I have a brother like you?” Robert shouted, his face turning red with rage.

“Your Grace, you are going too far!” Stannis shot back, his voice steady despite the tension.

The two brothers glared at each other, their blue eyes locked in a silent, fierce confrontation. Jaime, standing nearby, looked down at his feet, saying nothing, while Littlefinger tilted his head as far to the side as he could, pretending not to notice the tension.

Amidst Robert's rant, the ever-vigilant Pycelle suddenly felt something warm beneath him. Stannis, choosing not to continue arguing, ground his teeth audibly, his lips twitching as he made a low crunching sound.

"You became Lord of Dragonstone not because you are worthy, but only because you are my brother," Robert spat. "All these years, you've learned nothing except to resent me for not giving you Storm's End!"

"Don't I deserve Storm's End?" Stannis could no longer hold back, glaring at Robert as he shouted angrily.

Outside the room, Robert's roar echoed through the corridor, clearly heard by everyone—Cersei, the Kingsguard, the Riverlands nobles, and even Stannis's wife, Selyse. She was heartbroken, listening to Robert insult her husband so cruelly. Tears rolled uncontrollably down her face, and she let out a quiet sob.

Back then, when Stannis had garrisoned Storm's End, it was thanks to him that Mace Tyrell's army had been kept at bay. Otherwise, the Targaryens would have successfully joined forces with Dorne, forming an unstoppable alliance. During the suppression of the rebellion in the Iron Islands, Stannis had also proven his military talent, leading a naval battle that turned the tide in their favor. His efforts had earned him the position of Master of Ships.

Though Stannis had never loved Selyse, and did not consider her his type, she still relied on him. Hearing Robert’s harsh words, she couldn’t hold back her tears. Cersei noticed but said nothing. Had it been any other time, she might have slapped Selyse, but now...

“I should have brought all the heirs of the noble houses of Westeros to King’s Landing! Just like Aerys did! At least now there wouldn’t be a second Jon Arryn!” Robert’s rant continued unabated.

Suddenly, Robert stopped arguing with Stannis and turned to the window. “Traitors! Traitors! How dare they show disrespect to their king! How dare they turn their backs on me! The Father will punish them!”

His voice was so loud it carried through all of Harrenhal. Then, as suddenly as he had stopped, Robert swung his face back towards Stannis, Jaime, and the others.

“I’m not a Targaryen, but I’ve ruled the Seven Kingdoms! I killed one Targaryen myself, and I’ll kill a second and a third! This war isn’t over! I’ll be the one to take Viserys’s head!”

With that, Robert slammed his fists on the table and stormed to the door, kicking it open with a loud thud.

Cersei, who had been standing closest to the door, was struck by the doorjamb and fell backwards. The handmaiden rushed forward to help her, and Jaime took a step toward her but stopped himself. Cersei, now sprawled on the floor, had a nosebleed, and her elaborate hair ornaments were disheveled.

"Damn woman," Robert muttered as he stormed out, leaving the room in chaos.

Amidst the uproar, only one person remained calm: Ser Raymun of House Darry. A cousin of Ser Willem Darry—the man who had saved the Targaryen siblings, Viserys and Daenerys—Raymun stood quietly, observing the disorder. During the War of the Usurper, the three male members of House Darry had fallen alongside Prince Rhaegar at the Trident, cementing their loyalty to the Targaryen cause.

Willem had served as protector to Viserys and Dany after the war, and Raymun had heard rumors that Viserys had erected a statue of Willem in Tyrosh to honor his memory. If there was one House that embodied loyalty during the War, it was undeniably House Darry. It was as if “loyalty” was carved into their very bones.

Yet, despite their unshakable loyalty, there were still other Riverlands houses that had supported the Targaryens during Robert's Rebellion. Now, these same houses were biding their time, feigning allegiance to Robert while preparing to switch sides when the moment was right. They anticipated that House Tully would fall, and the fertile lands of the Riverlands would be ripe for the taking.

Many approached Raymun in secret, hoping to form alliances. Just as he was about to leave, a tall, thin man stepped into his path. The man, nearly fifty years old, had sharp, handsome features and a commanding presence. He warned Raymun sternly, "The seven dragons of Viserys are no match for Balerion. I advise you not to think otherwise. When King Robert rose up, I personally killed at least three Targaryen advisers. You don’t want to be the fourth, do you?"

The man was Jason Mallister, the head of House Mallister. He had sided with his feudal lords, the Tullys, during Robert’s Rebellion, and had been a staunch supporter of Robert ever since.

Raymun, unshaken, replied, "You don't need to worry about me. I will pledge allegiance to the true king."

With a swift motion, Jason drew his sword and pointed it at Raymun, his voice cold. "So, you really do plan to commit treason?"

Raymun met his gaze fearlessly. "What? Is there something wrong with me saying I will pledge allegiance to the true king?"

"You think I don't know who the true king is?!" Jason snapped, his hand trembling as he gripped his sword hilt.

Realizing he had said too much, Jason regretted his words. Seeing Raymun smirk, Jason cursed under his breath, angrily sheathing his sword before storming off.

...

Meanwhile, Viserys had no idea what was transpiring in Harrenhal, thousands of miles away. With the blessings of the Septon, the Maesters, and the nobles of Oldtown, Viserys and Daenerys had left the city and were on their way to Highgarden.

Quentyn Martell was still allowed to ride on Vyrgion’s back, having proven his worth in negotiations with the lords regarding Viserys’s coronation.

Oldtown was close to Highgarden—no more than a few days' ride on horseback. If they flew by dragon, the journey would take only two or three hours.

As the first rays of morning light pierced through the misty streets of Oldtown, Viserys, Dany, and their party set off.

...

Meanwhile, in Highgarden, preparations for war continued. Though they had assembled an army of 80,000 strong, there were still many considerations to weigh. To the north lay the Westerlands, to the south Brightwater Keep, held by House Florent, and to the west, Storm’s End.

Viserys’s mission was clear: free up their forces as soon as possible and prepare for the impending offensive.