The Son of the Prostitute knew that a mysterious, powerful force had appeared within him.
A divine blessing? Magic? Sorcery?
Over the past four days, he had gradually mastered this power. He began to feel that the Stranger might come for him a little later.
Today—or decades from now.
He glanced at the man beside him. For the past few days, this was the only person he had interacted with.
He had given the man a name known only to himself—"Silver Stag." In any case, that precious Silver Stag had given him several days of food, warmth, and peace.
Silver Stag brought him to Central Plaza beside the Alchemists' Guild.
"Lord Stannis is going to inspect the Royal Fleet at the harbor. He'll come from the north. The Mud Road and Fishermen's Square between here and the harbor are your chance."
"Don't worry. I'll keep an eye on you."
After finishing his instructions, Silver Stag vanished into the crowd.
He stood blankly at the edge of the plaza.
Faces passed by nearby—men, women, children, and old people. Where was Stannis?
He searched for a long time before finally spotting a face that gradually grew clearer and larger.
A spiteful face that appeared in his dreams every night.
He tightened his grip on the knife hidden in his sleeve.
He crept closer.
Lord Stannis strode forward with a solemn expression, as though he were heading into battle.
He was deeply dissatisfied with Robert's decision.
After Lord Jon, I should have been Robert's Hand of the King!
I've served tirelessly in this position for so many years, yet he only favors Eddard!
Then again, how could a king who indulged in entertainment, feasts, and women favor his stern, humorless younger brother who showed no interest in women?
Stannis knew this, but he could not understand it.
Renly, who only knew how to joke around and waste time at tournaments, had received the family's ancestral Storm's End and his elder brother's affection.
All he had received from Robert was mockery and a few rocks in the Narrow Sea.
What was Dragonstone supposed to mean?!
I am the rightful heir to the Iron Throne!
Unfortunately, he was the only one who acknowledged that fact. His sole ally, the Hand of the King Jon, had also been murdered.
Afterward, the king had almost immediately decided to head north to Winterfell, without considering his younger brother at all. Stannis was naturally in no mood to be cheerful.
He had decided to distance himself from this loathsome, dangerous place of darkness and intrigue—King's Landing.
"Davos, are you ready?"
He questioned the Onion Knight beside him, but his tone was so stiff that it sounded like an interrogation.
Davos Seaworth had long been accustomed to the duke's personality. He calmly replied, "We can set sail tomorrow. All the ships are ready. Aren't you about to inspect them?"
Stannis did not merely intend to leave himself. He also planned to take most of the fleet in the harbor to Dragonstone.
After all, he was still the Master of Ships.
"Good. Tell Dragonstone to prepare to receive us in advance."
Stannis continued arranging his plans.
He knew the Lannisters would not stop. Robert might no longer be safe, and he needed to make preparations early.
Dragonstone held King's Landing by the throat. The fleet...
The Son of the Prostitute approached his enemy. He drew half the knife from his sleeve.
His enemy was speaking with someone. It was a good opportunity, but a ring of soldiers still surrounded him. He needed to wait for the right moment.
"Davos, how are the conditions in Blackwater Bay? Do we have enough supplies? How are the soldiers reacting to the voyage?"
Davos answered each question patiently, but he was secretly puzzled.
From what he knew of the duke, Stannis normally would not ask about such matters. His subordinates would handle them properly. Why was he asking today?
Stannis stepped onto the Mud Road.
Although it was called the Mud Road because it lay near the riverbank, its stone surface was still sturdy enough for large numbers of pedestrians to pass safely.
As always, the place was crowded today.
Using the crowd as cover, the knife gradually approached its target from below waist height.
The guards remained extremely vigilant.
The Duke of Dragonstone entered the even more crowded Fishermen's Square.
Fishermen, small merchants, laborers and commoners who had just crossed the river into the city, wretched people begging in scattered corners, cheap prostitutes...
At last, a soldier was bowled over by a drunk and struggled to break free of the drunkard's entanglement.
The knife saw an opening!
In an instant, Davos saw an unusual flash, and his heart sank.
The knife stabbed the duke!
Only then did Davos manage to shout. "An assassin! Protect the duke!!"
The soldiers came to their senses and drew their longswords.
But the assassin had struck home and already vanished into the crowd.
"Duke! How are you?"
Davos anxiously supported Stannis. His sturdy breastplate and chainmail had both been pierced, and a bloody knife wound had split open across the duke's chest!
Stannis caught sight of the assassin's face.
He kept replaying the assassin's face in his mind. He was very young and somewhat familiar. Who could he be?
Excruciating pain invaded his consciousness. Stannis said nothing, but cold sweat streamed down his forehead. The soldiers treated the situation as a grave emergency and hurriedly escorted the duke back home along the same route.
Stannis collapsed onto the bed, his bare upper body streaming with blood.
A group of trusted retainers crowded around the bed, while a large contingent of guards stood inside and outside the room. The atmosphere was extraordinarily tense.
Fortunately.
The knife had not injured Stannis's internal organs. It was only a flesh wound.
After the wound was bandaged and treated, the duke appeared to be in decent condition, though his face was somewhat pale and rigid.
At last, he remembered.
"It was the bastard son of a prostitute!"
Davos had not yet reacted. "Duke, what did you say?"
"That assassin was the bastard son of a prostitute. I saw him in the Throne Room. Clearly, he has no respect for the law!"
Stannis understood the reason for today's incident.
Wasn't it merely the execution of a murderer according to the laws of the kingdom? This bastard had actually held a grudge and wanted to take personal revenge?!
Everyone ought to understand that the law was the law. Personal emotions and preferences could not influence it, nor should the judge himself be blamed.
As expected, the Bastard had been born in filth and was destined to grow into a violent criminal consumed by chaos!
Stannis waved his hand, signaling for everyone to leave.
"It's fine now. He was merely an ignorant, foolish thug. I'm fine."
Everyone relaxed somewhat and gradually departed.
Davos also found the explanation reasonable, but he could not dispel the unease in his heart.
"Duke, there's no time to lose. Everything is ready. Why don't we leave tonight? That way, we can avoid any further danger."
"You think I'm afraid? The schedule remains unchanged. Have dinner prepared for me."
Davos could only obey.
In the kitchen.
Some of the servants and workers leaned against wooden boxes by the fireplace and snored, while others whispered gossip and rumors.
The head chef smacked the backs of the young men under him one after another. "Lazy bastards, get moving! The duke is about to dine!"
The assistant cook, Dick, had not been slacking off, but he still took a smack.
He silently cursed the old bastard in his heart. Relying on his age and seniority, he doesn't treat us like human beings at all. Sooner or later, I'll teach you a lesson!
Dick's work was varied and exhausting.
Chopping and preparing vegetables, cleaning the kitchen, watching over the cooking, running food back and forth, and serving the so-called senior workers.
He had long since wanted to quit, and now he had an enormous opportunity.
Dick glanced around. No one was watching this side. He quietly took a paper packet from his clothes and poured the white powder into the soup.
Recalling the gleaming Golden Dragon in that man's hand, the last trace of hesitation and fear in his heart vanished.
He picked up a spoon and stirred the venison stew in the pot several times with all his strength.
"Duke!"
Davos nearly chopped the assistant cook to pieces with his eyes alone!
"Drag him away!"
Two soldiers glanced at the duke, then roughly dragged the weeping traitor from the room. He screamed and thrashed like a writhing maggot, awaiting his end.
"Duke, this wasn't an accident. Someone truly intends you harm. We need to leave immediately!"
Stannis no longer objected. If he had been the first to drink the soup, the person lying on the floor with an ashen-blue face would not have been a cook, but him.
It was already close to midnight.
Stannis led a large force straight toward the harbor, and the Gold Cloaks did not dare to stop them rashly.
A pair of eyes watched them from the darkness.
During the day, Silver Stag had announced that the operation had failed. Stannis was still alive.
Silver Stag had said he had one more night. If he still could not succeed, there would never be another chance.
After that, he never saw Silver Stag again.
He wandered around Fishermen's Square. Even he did not know what he was thinking.
Now, he saw a huge procession of more than a hundred people. Torches illuminated their armor and blades, reflecting their stern, cautious faces.
Mother, that day you told me to live well. I remembered.
I'm sorry.
It seems the Stranger has destined me to avenge you!
He stopped thinking altogether and charged straight toward the face at the center of the torchlight.
"Stay alert! There's movement!"
Beneath the firelight, the knife in the enemy's hand seemed to glow red.
He was only a disheveled boy who knew no martial arts.
The knights and guards struck the enemy with precision.
No one expected the enemy to remain completely unharmed and rush swiftly to the duke's side!
The knife stabbed into Stannis's chest once more and was not pulled out. Scorching flames surged into Stannis's heart, burning his soul.
The duke stared fixedly at the assassin's face.
He weakly opened his mouth and exhaled a wisp of black-red smoke, releasing the breath of his life as well.
Before flames and True Steel, Pure Iron never yielded. Black and hard, it broke before it bent.
Stannis broke apart.
Davos let out a silent cry. His throat could not move at all.
The assassin stood motionless where he was.
Davos summoned all his strength and swung a sword filled with murderous intent.
The assassin's body went limp and collapsed. His head rolled away with a rumble, eyes still open.
Several seconds later.
At the instant the Son of the Prostitute's eyes turned completely gray, Joffrey, far away in the Riverlands, opened his eyes...
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