I Demand Trial by Combat!

Throne Room.

Tywin sat upon the Iron Throne, having summoned the hundred-odd noble lords of the court.

Trouble had come.

A Lannister soldier knelt in the center of the hall, beside him Gillian Lannister lying on a stretcher, both of them a bloody mess of wounds.

The noble lords on either side wore worried expressions, each holding their own views on the assault against the Hand's younger brother.

At this point, all they could hope was that the King wouldn't lose his wits when clashing with the Hand.

Varys frowned slightly, finding an opening in the crowd to ask: "Lord Hand, when will His Majesty arrive?"

Just then, a middle-aged maester jogged in, whispering something into Tywin's ear.

Tywin gave a slight nod and said in a deep voice: "His Majesty is napping. This case will be handled entirely by me."

Varys bowed his head and withdrew.

With the King absent, the Hand of the King acting in his stead—no one could find fault with that.

"Done for, done for."

Lord Owen, also among the crowd, paced frantically, already imagining how the Prince would suffer unfair treatment without the King present.

The man was quite loyal, believing Daeren had done no wrong.

Time ticked by, minute after minute.

Tywin swept his gaze across the hall and called out loudly: "Where is the Kingsguard? Wasn't someone just reporting that Prince Daeren was coming?"

Naturally, no one answered.

Of the seven Kingsguard, one lay abed waiting to die, three were far off on Dragonstone, and three hovered around the King.

"He's here..."

"Prince Daeren has brought the White Bull and Barristan..."

Suddenly, the silent hall stirred to life, and the crowd parted to form a path on its own.

Before the open doors of the hall.

Daeren's figure slowly appeared, stepping onto the black stone steps outside, striding one step at a time into the hall.

His expression was as usual, his posture still upright and tall, as if the accusations had no effect on him at all.

Three meters behind him, Ser Gerold and Ser Barristan followed, one on the left and one on the right, their presence like an insurmountable wall and an unstoppable spear.

The noble lords fixed their eyes on the young face of the leading man, their murmurs gradually shifting from the accusations and the two knights to Daeren himself.

Before today, many only knew that the King doted on his second son, but had never seen what was special about him.

Daeren walked unhurriedly, ignoring the two men lying in the center of the hall, and went straight to the foot of the Iron Throne.

"Enough, Your Highness."

Tywin's gaze sharpened as he called out in a low voice to stop him.

He had no Kingsguard to protect him; before the Iron Throne stood only a squad of Lannister soldiers, as fragile as paper before two top-tier knights wielding Life Force.

Daeren stopped before the forest of swords and blades that was the Iron Throne, tilting his head slightly: "I wonder what business the Lord Hand has with me?"

"Someone has accused you of malicious assault."

Tywin's face was stern, like a majestic lion.

Daeren looked around, locking onto the two in the center of the hall: "You mean them?"

"Exactly!"

Tywin spoke with confidence, recounting the events one by one, and said in a deep voice: "You ordered Ser Jon Darry to kill three, cripple five innocent Lannister soldiers, and gravely wound Gillian Lannister. There are witnesses to confirm all of the above."

Daeren let it all wash over him like wind past his ears, saying flatly: "Lord Hand, then did you ask what started it?"

This teacher of his really knew how to pin blame.

If the charges were confirmed, even he wouldn't be able to slip away easily.

Don't be surprised—there were precedents for such matters.

The last time went back to the Tourney at Ashford Meadow in 209 AC, and the Trial of Seven that spread across the Seven Kingdoms.

Grandfather Aegon V's second brother, "Brightflame" Aegon, bullied a commoner, was stopped by the wandering knight "Tall" Ser Duncan, and had a few teeth knocked out.

Soldiers seized Ser Duncan, but Igo, hiding his identity, revealed himself and temporarily saved Ser Duncan.

What followed was Aegon's frenzied revenge against Ser Duncan afterward.

Aegon framed him, and fearing Duncan's size and strength, demanded a Trial of Seven.

A brutal duel began, born from the conflict between a prince and a wandering knight.

To prove innocence and so-called honor, that battle claimed a Targaryen—none other than the heir to the Iron Throne, hailed as the one most likely to restore the family's fortunes: "Breakspear" Baelor.

Even for the innocence of a wandering knight, the pursuit had cost such a price.

A Lannister's accusation would undoubtedly be even harder to resolve.

Watching his composed student, Tywin redirected his attack: "Soldiers, why did you come to blows?"

"My lord, following your orders, we went to the warehouse to draw materials for repairing the harbor. Lord Gillian and Prince Daeron exchanged only a single word before they attacked us."

The Lannister soldier raised a trembling hand, pointing at the spirited young prince.

Gasps rippled through the noble lords as they turned to the figure before the Iron Throne, murmuring among themselves.

Attacking someone over a single word—had Prince Daeron inherited the King's mad blood?

Tywin nodded to himself and asked, "Your Highness, do you have any defense?"

Daeron, as if deaf to the whispers behind him, replied calmly, "My lord, my father approved the construction of a palace for me. Are you unaware of this?"

Tywin answered, "I am aware, but the two matters are unrelated."

A decisive denial.

Daeron paused for a second, wondering if the old man had lost his wits.

Meanwhile, several Grand Ministers in the crowd darkened their faces.

"The situation is very unfavorable."

Varys frowned, pondering the cause and effect.

The King ordered the palace built for Daeron, the Lord Hand approved it, and Lord Owen executed it.

But between the order and the executor lay the Small Council's planning.

Under the Small Council's arrangement, the Prince chose to take materials sealed in the treasury.

The Lord Hand had not participated in the discussion, and at the same time approved Gillian's requisition of materials for harbor repairs.

The two matters cleverly became the spark for conflict.

As long as the Lord Hand insisted he knew nothing of the Small Council's planning, he could wash his hands of it, and under the pretext of a misunderstanding, charge the Prince with manslaughter or injury.

The crime wouldn't warrant death, but at the very least, it would mean stripping his lands and exile.

"He doesn't want a complete break with me, so he's waiting for me to cave?"

Daeron's thoughts churned, sensing a deeper scheme.

The other side had deliberately sent Gillian to take a beating, baiting him into the trap, cutting off his support, and finally forcing him to beg for leniency.

"Heh."

Daeron let out an abrupt laugh.

Tywin frowned and demanded, "The victim lies here—what is there to laugh at?"

This laugh was filled with disdain and contempt, making him feel his authority was being challenged.

"My lord, do you think you can judge me?"

Daeron's face turned cold, then he addressed the hundreds of noble lords in the hall, first declaring his innocence: "The basis of law is not right or wrong, but the individual will at the moment the law is enacted. Now, someone with malicious intent is distorting the essence of events, setting a trap for me that I was bound to step into."

"You do not accept the verdict?"

Sensing the situation slipping from his control, Tywin spoke up to defend the judgment.

"No! The verdict is plain for all to see."

Daeron spun around sharply, raising his hand to point at his mentor who had so carefully taught him, refusing to yield: "But I am Daeron Targaryen. I accept no one's judgment, unless the Seven Gods above bear witness."

Tywin shot to his feet, enraged: "Daeron Targaryen, do you know what you're saying?"

"I demand a Trial by Combat!"

Daeron, carrying the pride of the True Dragon Bloodline, spoke each word deliberately: "If you want me to confess and submit, then send someone to die."