A sudden crisis at court

Although today's Small Council had been fraught with difficulties, Otto Hightower's mood was far from despondent.

Today, the next decree issued by the "the Conciliator" at the Small Council dealt another heavy blow to his already troubled mind.

"The third decree." The Grand Maester of Alar's voice rang out again in the conference room, shattering the brief silence once more. "The position of Master of Laws is to be filled by Sir Leonno Strong, the former Master of Ships; Sir Otto Hightower, the former Master of Laws, will remain in King's Landing pending further appointment."

This decree struck Otto's heart like a heavy hammer, plunging him into an icy abyss.

"No—impossible!" Otto stood up abruptly, his dark green eyes filled with disbelief, his face ashen, his lips trembling, barely able to utter a coherent sentence. "Your Majesty, I—I have served as Master of Laws diligently. Why must I be replaced?"

"Although Leonno Strong is capable and virtuous, he has never dealt with legal matters. How can he be competent as Master of Laws?"

His voice was filled with a desperate roar, completely devoid of its usual composure and prudence.

All eyes in the hall were on him, some with sympathy, some with mockery, and some with indifference.

Leonno was also stunned. His mouth was agape, his eyes filled with astonishment. He subconsciously looked at Otto, then at King Jaehaerys, as if to confirm whether he had misheard.

He never imagined he would succeed the legal minister, after all, his expertise lay in political administration, not legal provisions.

However, his past studies at the Citadel have indeed given him a deep understanding of the laws of the Seven Kingdoms, though he has never put them into practice.

He frowned, about to decline, but was stopped by Prince Baelon's gaze.

Prince Baelon stepped forward, his purple eyes filled with majesty, his voice deep and powerful. "Lord Otto Hightower, the core of the law lies in justice and majesty, not in memorizing the rules."

Sir Leonno Strong is fair, impartial, calm, and decisive. In the past two years, he has assisted in government affairs and managed the fleet's logistics. He is well-versed in the habits of the Seven Kingdoms kingdoms and is more suitable than you to uphold the law and dignity of the Iron Throne.

Your recent actions at the Small Council —stirring up trouble, courting other lords, spreading rumors, and interfering in the affairs of Prince Daemon's Crownlands —are a temporary stay in King's King's Landing to allow you to reflect on your mistakes, not a demotion. Do not lose your composure.

The words of Baelon, the father of his close friend Viserys and his future lord, were like a sharp blade, piercing through all of Otto's pretenses.

Otto's face instantly went from deathly pale to ashen, then from ashen to dark red, his chest heaving violently as if it were about to explode.

Looking into Baelon's majestic eyes, at King Jaehaerys's indifferent expression, and at the various expressions of the people in the hall, he suddenly felt dizzy, his legs went weak, and he almost collapsed to the ground.

He instinctively gripped the chair armrest, his knuckles turning white from the force, his fingernails digging deep into the wood.

His gaze swept across the hall, like a wounded beast searching for sympathy and support, but he only saw:

His good-for-nothing younger brother, Prince Viserys, and his mortal enemy, Daemon Targaryen, appeared at the entrance of the council chamber at some unknown time. He leaned against a pillar, the hem of his black and red riding clothes sweeping across the ground, a straw dangling from his mouth, his eyes filled with a gloating, wicked smile.

Seeing Otto's discomposure, he deliberately raised an eyebrow, a mocking smile curving his lips, as if to say, "If only you had known then what you know now." That playful look pierced Otto's heart like a needle.

Corlys House Velaryon continued to calmly fiddle with the telescope, his eyes showing no emotion whatsoever, as if Otto's outburst had nothing to do with him. Only occasionally did he glance at Otto with a hint of detachment.

The gold ring of Taimond Lannister, Otto's "one of his own" and "ally," began to spin again. He looked at Otto with indifferent eyes, without sympathy or mockery, only a kind of detached indifference, as if watching a farce that had nothing to do with him.

Vaegon Targaryen remained head down, silently reading the book "The Chronicle of the Stars" in his hands, as if everything in the hall was irrelevant to him. Only the occasional sound of turning pages was particularly clear in the silent council chamber, revealing an almost indifferent focus.

The newly appointed Intelligence Minister, Bartimos Celtigar, sat upright in his chair, his face beaming with undisguised smugness. When his eyes swept over Otto, there was a hint of triumphant satisfaction, as if he were retaliating for Otto's previous disdain.

Earl Lyman Beesbury, the Master of Coin, sat at the end of the long table, wearing a honeycomb-patterned robe, his eyes somewhat unfocused, as if afraid that another appointment would come today and take away his position as Master of Coin as well.

His face wore an innocent expression, seemingly surprised by the personnel change, yet also appearing to be deliberately avoiding Otto's gaze, not wanting to get involved in the conflict.

Leonno Strong stood there, his eyes filled with complex emotions. He looked at Otto Hightower, who was also a friend of Viserys, with a questioning and bewildered expression, as if to say, "I didn't expect this either." His astonishment seemed genuine, which made Otto feel a little better. At least there was someone who wasn't deliberately targeting him.

Mund Hightower stood behind Otto, his face pale and his eyes filled with fear. He wanted to step forward and help his uncle, but he didn't dare. He could only stand there helplessly, twisting his long robe with his fingers.

As Otto watched all this, he suddenly felt a chill rise from the soles of his feet and spread throughout his body.

He seemed to sense the betrayal of "everyone" present—

King Jaehaerys's indifference, Prince Baelon's suppression, his mortal enemy's mockery, the Black Dragon's scheming, Bartimos's smugness, and even those he thought were "his own people"—none of them are now willing to stand up for him.

He opened his mouth, wanting to explain, wanting to shout, but found that his throat was blocked, and he could not make any sound, only a dry whimper.

"Lord Otto, please mind your manners." The Grand Maester of Alar's voice, tinged with a hint of reproach, broke Otto's reverie. "The Small Council the highest forum of the Iron Throne; such disrespect is unacceptable."

Otto snapped out of his daze, took a deep breath, and forced himself to sit back in his chair, his hands gripping the armrests tightly until his knuckles turned white, his whole body trembling slightly.

His eyes were so dark they seemed to drip water, staring intently at Daemon as if trying to etch his image into his very bones.

He knew he had completely lost this time. Not only had he failed to weaken Daemon's power, but he had also put himself in a passive position. He had lost his position Master of Laws, his intelligence network had fallen into the hands of Daemon's people, the Joint Fleet had been taken over by the Corlys family, and his influence at the Small Council had been almost completely undermined.

Looking at Otto's current state, Jaehaerys, who was in the first position, sighed softly, his tone tinged with weariness. "Otto, although you are no longer in your prime, you have followed me for many years and should know when to advance and when to retreat."

The stability of the Iron Throne lies in balancing the various forces, not in forming cliques, sowing discord, or engaging in factionalism.

"Stay in King's Landing for now, reflect on your actions, and if you can change, the Iron Throne will still value you."

Otto didn't respond, but simply lowered his head, his long hair falling in front of his face, obscuring his expression. No one knew what he was thinking at that moment; they could only see his shoulders trembling slightly, as if he were suppressing immense emotions.

A brief silence fell over the hall, broken only by Otto's heavy breathing and the sound of the Grand Maester Alar turning the pages of parchment.

Everyone's expression was different, yet they all conveyed a sense of solemnity.

This personnel reshuffle came suddenly and violently, completely changing the power structure of the Small Council. Daemon and the royal family's power became more and more stable, while the foreign ministers' faction, led by Otto, suffered a heavy blow.

Bartimos subtly straightened his back, feeling the gazes of everyone in the hall, his smugness almost overflowing.

He knew that from this day forward, the House Celtigar would rise again, and he would become Daemon's most loyal advocate at the Small Council, restoring the glory of his ancestors.

Leonno Strong gradually calmed down, and the astonishment in his eyes was slowly replaced by determination.

He knew that the position of Master of Laws was a sign of the King's trust and a heavy responsibility. Even though he was inexperienced, he would study hard and live up to the King's expectations.

He looked at Otto with a complicated expression. After all, the two were Viserys's best friends, but now they were the predecessor and successor in the same position. He felt a mix of emotions.

Daemon Targaryen walked in from beside the pillar, sat down next to Daemon, patted him on the shoulder, and said in a low, mocking voice, "Well done, Little Daemon. That old fox Otto is probably going to be furious."

Daemon smiled faintly, offering no response, but his gaze swept across the hall, a hint of understanding in his eyes.

This personnel change was both the king's and Prince Baelon's intention, and also his long-planned appointment of Bartimos as Minister of Intelligence, which would help him control intelligence in King's Landing;

With Corlys in charge of naval affairs and the Stepstones, the defenses of the Narrow Sea could be secured;

Leonno's appointment as Master of Laws is a win-win situation, allowing him to both win over Leonno and sideline Otto.

Taimond Lannister rose and bowed to King Jaehaerys: "Your Majesty, now that the personnel appointments have been decided, the Westerlands naturally support the King's decision. Therefore, I need not linger here before Your Majesty, and formally request to resign and return to the Westerlands."

Even if I leave King's King's Landing, the Westerlands, from House Lannister downwards, will continue to support the Iron Throne, the Joint Fleet, and the expansion of the Crownlands.

"Taimond, Lord Tymond." Jaehaerys nodded gently, his tone mild. "The Westerlands are a vital pillar of Westeros and the Iron Throne. I hope the House Lannister can join hands with the House Velaryon, Celtigar, and other families to safeguard the peace of the Seven Kingdoms."

Corlys rose to reply, "Duke Taimond, rest assured, I will personally oversee the safety of the Narrow Sea route. Merchant ships in the Westerlands will receive priority protection from the Joint Fleet."

Taimond nodded slightly, returned to his seat, and the gold ring stopped spinning, clearly satisfied with the result.

Just then, the council chamber door was suddenly flung open, and a golden-robed guard rushed in, panting heavily, his face pale and his voice hoarse with urgency. "Your Majesty! Your Majesty! Something terrible has happened! Lady Aemma — Aemma has suddenly gone into premature labor! His Highness Viserys has ordered me to immediately inform the Queen and go to her bedchamber to care for her!"

The shout was like a thunderclap, instantly shattering the tense atmosphere in the council chamber.

Queen Alysanne, who was only attending the meeting and had not spoken, suddenly stood up. A few strands of her long, silver-grey hair fell loose with the movement, and her calm expression was instantly replaced by panic.

With the help of Alicent Hightower, who was attending to her, she grabbed the guard's arm and asked anxiously, "How is Aemma? Is she in danger? Have the nuns and midwives arrived?"

"The midwife is already here, but I heard that Aemma's baby is breech, and as for the situation—it seems the situation wasn't good when I left," the guard replied haltingly, his voice trembling with sobs.

King Jaehaerys could no longer remain seated. He abruptly stood up, slamming his scepter heavily on the ground, his voice filled with unprecedented urgency. "Quickly! Today's Small Council is adjourned! Everyone, follow me to Viserys and Aemma's chambers!"

Prince Baelon immediately stepped forward to support the King, his face grave. "Father, please slow down, I'll go with you."

O

The room erupted into chaos. The previous power struggles and personnel disputes seemed insignificant in the face of the crisis facing the new royal life.

Queen Alysanne, supported by Alicent, walked quickly out of the council chamber, calling out to those behind her, "Jocelyn! Rhaenys! You two come with me!"

Jocelyn Baratheon, who had been waiting outside the council chamber for her "son" Daemon, and Rhaenys Targaryen, who was also waiting for her brother Daemon and her husband Corlys, immediately responded. The mother and daughter quickly followed the Queen's footsteps, their faces full of anxiety.

Jocelyn's skirt fluttered with her movements, her eyes filled with worry. Aemma was someone she had watched marry into the family, and now that she had given birth prematurely, how could she not be anxious?

Rhaenys also abandoned her usual composure, walking quickly while praying for Aemma's safety.

From the direction of Viserys's bedchamber came a series of hurried footsteps and shouts from maids, mingling with the chaos inside the council chamber.

Otto abruptly raised his head, his face instantly filled with gloom and despair replaced by astonishment. He looked at the panicked crowd around him, momentarily forgetting his own predicament, and simply sat there blankly, his mind a complete void.

Daemon stood up as well, his calm expression replaced by worry. Aemma was Viserys's wife and Rhaenyra's mother, and as his "sister-in-law," she had always taken good care of him. Now, with her premature birth and critical condition, how could he stand idly by? He quickly said to Daemon Targaryen beside him, "Let's go see."

Daemon Targaryen instantly dropped his jest, nodded, and followed Daemon outside, his face full of seriousness.

Bartimos, Corlys, Taimond, Leonno, and others also rose and followed the King and Queen toward Aemma's bedchamber.

The council chamber emptied instantly, leaving only Otto sitting in his chair, staring blankly at the door, his body still trembling slightly.

The recent personnel changes had plunged him into despair, and the news of Aemma's premature birth sent him into utter chaos.

He didn't know what his future held, nor what this sudden turn of events would bring to the Iron Throne.

The morning light still streamed through the high windows into the council chamber, and the crimson-gold three-headed dragon emblem gleamed coldly in the light, as if silently watching this sudden and shocking change.

The power struggle has temporarily come to an end, but a crisis for new life has suddenly descended, and the fate of the King's Landing seems to be completely rewritten at this moment.