Accusation 3

At a glance, the situation had spiraled completely out of control.

"Guards!"

Viserys roared in fury at this blatant defiance.

"Drag this raving madman away!"

At the king's roar, Red Keep guards poured in from the corridors on either side.

But the thirteen Velaryon clansmen beside Vaemond moved faster. They swiftly formed a back-to-back circle.

They meant to give Vaemond a chance to finish speaking.

"Every word I've said is true!" Vaemond's wild laughter rang out through the chaos, shrill as a night owl's cry.

"You all know it!"

"You're just too afraid to say it!"

"Too afraid to offend the future queen!"

"Shut your mouth!" Viserys rose from the throne, his trembling finger pointing down at Vaemond.

One guard tried to cover Vaemond's mouth, but a young Velaryon beside him knocked the guard away.

The old man stumbled two steps, his white hair in disarray, and pointed at the silent representatives of the great houses.

"Riverlands, Westerlands, Vale, The North... you all know the truth!"

"You've been pretending not to hear for years!"

"But I, Vaemond Velaryon, will finish what I have to say today!"

Aemond saw Rhaenyra, seated to the left, give Daemon a slight nod. Daemon was already slipping into the disorderly crowd.

He, too, left the Greens' seats. Helaena noticed and reached out to stop him, but her fingertips only brushed the edge of his leather armor.

Helaena anxiously tried to hold Aemond back. "Aemond, don't go."

But Aemond pried her hand away and kept walking without looking back.

"What are you doing?" Alicent cried.

"Keep an eye on Mother, Aegon," Aemond said coldly, his back to them.

Aegon was confused, but he did as Aemond had said and placed a hand on their mother's shoulder.

Alicent couldn't help calling out, "Aemond!"

"I'll do whatever I want."

Aemond kept walking toward the center of the chaos.

Amid the turmoil, Vaemond turned to Rhaenyra, spittle flying as he shouted:

"You whore!"

"If Queen Emma could see how shameless you are today, she'd be mortified!"

The composure Rhaenyra had maintained throughout the gathering finally shattered at his words.

"Shut up, you old dog!"

"Did your father spoil you?" Vaemond laughed wildly at Rhaenyra's loss of composure.

"No! He ruined you!"

"Your father spoiled you!"

"Made you think you could do whatever you wanted!"

"Made you think all of the Seven Kingdoms should revolve around you!"

"And those three little bastards behind you!"

He pointed at the brothers, grief and fury twisting his face.

"Stron's bastards!"

"And you think you deserve the Velaryon name?"

"Deserve to stand in High Tide on Tidepool Island?"

"Deserve to covet the Iron Throne?!"

The three boys' faces turned livid.

"Remember this: as long as a single member of House Velaryon remains, you'll never—"

Viserys finally exploded. "Cut out his tongue! Now! At once!"

The prince had already slipped through the chaos...

Daemon, who had quietly worked his way into the crowd, made his move.

As Dark Sister left his waist, the Valyrian steel shimmered with dark ripples in the morning light.

His face held nothing but cold, murderous intent.

Daemon circled behind Vaemond and raised his sword toward the back of the old man's neck. He didn't mean to cut out his tongue; he meant to cleave him in two.

The strike was lightning-fast and vicious. The shriek of the blade through the air even drowned out the clamor around them.

But another blade flashed and stopped him.

Clang!!!

The sharp clash of metal split the air, sparks flying.

As Aemond swept past a guard, he drew the longsword from the man's belt with his free hand.

Now, that steel sword was braced firmly against Dark Sister's downward strike.

At the point where the blades met, Aemond's arm sank sharply.

The force behind Daemon's blow was far greater than he'd expected. Pain burst through his palm and shot up his arm to his shoulder.

But he clenched his teeth, muscles bulging as he held back the deadly strike with sheer force.

At that moment, the entire Throne Room seemed to freeze.

Everyone stood rooted to the spot, eyes wide in disbelief—the prince and the prince stood with weapons drawn before the Iron Throne!

Daemon's pupils contracted when he saw who had stopped him.

Aemond stood close before him, sword raised to block his strike.

"Daemon!" Viserys rose from the throne and staggered weakly. A Kingsguard beside him caught him.

"Put down your sword! Aemond! You put yours down, too!"

But neither heard him. Neither moved. Their blades remained pointed at one another.

Rhaenyra held a hand to her belly, her face tense.

Queen Alicent cried out, "Cole! Cole!!!"

The king roared at the Kingsguard beside him, "Stop them at once!"

The white-cloaked knights sprang into action. They couldn't stand by while members of the royal family slaughtered one another before the throne.

Daemon shifted to a two-handed grip. Dark Sister trembled in his hands.

The blade hummed faintly as it cut through the air. He began to charge forward.

Aemond took a deep breath and adjusted his grip on the sword.

He knew he was no match for Daemon yet.

Not in swordsmanship, strength, or experience.

"You," Daemon began slowly.

"Are asking to die..."

Aemond turned his wrist to deflect the force of the blow and slid back half a step. His sword's tip remained steady on Daemon as he smiled.

"His Majesty only wants his tongue cut out, Uncle."

"He doesn't want him dead."

"I've changed my mind." Daemon licked his lips, his eyes burning with even greater bloodlust. "I want this old bastard dead. As for you..."

His gaze traveled over Aemond.

"How about an eye? Or... a hand? Something to remind you what this costs?"

Aemond's smile didn't falter. "You can say that once you've managed it, Uncle."

Daemon narrowed his eyes, then suddenly laughed, sneering at him. "Ha? Boy, anyone who displeases me deserves to die."

"Funny," Aemond said, a cold glint flashing in his purple eyes. "I think the same way."

Before his words had even faded, Aemond moved.

Not to defend himself, but to attack.

He lunged forward, driving his longsword straight toward Daemon's throat.

Daemon's pupils narrowed. Dark Sister swept across to block him.

Clang!

Metal clashed, sparks flying.

But Aemond's attack didn't stop.

Using the recoil to spin, he slashed toward Daemon's flank, abandoning defense entirely.

Daemon was forced to retreat half a step and brought Dark Sister down to block.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

The blades clashed in a barrage like driving rain.

The nobles stared, dumbstruck.

Daemon's attacks kept failing to break through, and his anger grew.

Seeing Aemond overextend on a thrust, he brought Dark Sister down in a fierce blow.

Crack!

The steel sword in Aemond's hand snapped.

The broken blade spun through the air, tracing an arc in the morning light before clattering to the floor.

Aemond staggered backward, left with only half a sword in his hand.

Before he could regain his footing, Daemon's left elbow smashed toward him like an iron hammer, straight at his forehead.

Aemond neither dodged nor flinched. He clenched his left fist and swung back.

Thud!

The elbow struck the side of Aemond's head, while Aemond's fist smashed into Daemon's chin.

Both men grunted and staggered apart.

Aemond's vision darkened, and a swarm of bees seemed to buzz in his ears. But he gritted his teeth and steadied himself.

Daemon's chin had gone numb from the punch. He licked the inside of his mouth and tasted the metallic tang of blood.

"You can't hold out much longer, can you?" Daemon sneered, raising Dark Sister again.

Aemond tightened his grip on the jagged half of the broken sword and pointed it at him.

"Care to find out?"

Daemon laughed, his expression wild with excitement. "Then let's find out!"

He charged again, Dark Sister coming down like black lightning.

Clang!

A figure in white stepped between them.

Ser Criston Cole gripped his greatsword with both hands, its broad blade firmly braced against Dark Sister.

"Prince, I must ask you to lower your weapon before the Iron Throne."

Daemon laughed, his expression full of scorn. "Cole, you think you can stop me?"

"I can try," Cole replied calmly, his greatsword perfectly steady. "After all, we've fought twice, and I won both times, didn't I?"

Daemon laughed wildly, pointing his sword at him. "Cole, you don't actually think you're somebody, do you?"

Cole took a step forward. "My duty is to protect the members of the royal family and maintain order in the Throne Room."

"Prince, if you insist on fighting here, I have no choice but to do my duty."

The three men faced off, blades poised and tension mounting.

All the nobles in the hall held their breath in terror.

In the midst of the crowd, the guards and Velaryons stopped struggling, too.

They exchanged bewildered glances as they watched the sudden clash within the royal family.

Beneath the Iron Throne, Lord Hand Otto knew the fight was over.

But he approved of Aemond's actions.

On the Greens' side, Queen Alicent and Helaena let out long sighs of relief.

Aegon couldn't help admiring his younger brother's courage in facing the prince in the middle of court.

"Stop them!" Viserys finally erupted.

"Kingsguard! Stop those two madmen! And you!" He pointed at the guards standing dumbfounded. "What are you standing there gawking at?!"

Six white-cloaked knights sprang into action at once.

Two tackled Daemon, one grabbing his sword arm while the other locked his shoulder.

Two more Kingsguard seized Aemond and reached for the sword in his hand.

A third Kingsguard knocked Daemon's sword away, while a fourth clamped down on his shoulders and chest from behind.

"Get off me!" Daemon roared, struggling to throw off their hold.

But the four Kingsguard were the finest knights in the realm, and they held the prince fast.

A mass of guards gathered in front of the two men, separating them.

Aemond didn't resist. When a Kingsguard's hand touched the hilt of his sword,

he let go. He had accomplished what he'd set out to do.

Clatter.

The sword hit the floor with a clear, ringing sound.

Cole sheathed his greatsword and stepped back, but kept his gaze on Daemon.

Daemon struggled for a moment, then finally stopped.

He stared at Aemond, his laughter charged with a kind of manic excitement.

"Good. Very good... Aemond Targaryen..."

"You want to take me on? Do you really have what it takes?"