Prince of Dragonstone

Inside a small tent in the wilderness sat the most powerful faction at court.

The king sat high above, with Queen Cersei and Crown Prince Joffrey seated at either side. Below them, Ser Barristan, Ser Jaime the Kingslayer, and the others were all prominent figures among the courtiers.

The king had brought half the court with him on this journey, but perhaps by coincidence, most of them were close to the Lannisters.

Everyone looked toward the king.

King Robert unfolded the letter, and in the next instant, his face turned bright red from his neck to his forehead.

The letter in his hand was nearly crushed in his grip.

"Damn it! They should all go to the Seven Hells! I've only been gone a few days, just a few days, and something this huge has happened in King's Landing!"

"This is my kingdom, my court!"

No one else in the tent dared speak. After all, the king had just received news of his second brother's death.

Though the two brothers had not been close, no one doubted the sincerity of King Robert's fury, whether out of a king's dignity or an elder brother's duty.

The king's rage did not subside on its own.

"The laws of the Seven Kingdoms and the bonds of blood allow me no mercy. The murderer must be severely punished!"

"He must learn that Ours is the Fury!"

"I'll smash his skull with my own hands! Trample his whole family and hang him amid the ruins of his castle!"

"My warhammer hasn't rusted away yet!!"

The king paced back and forth, venting for quite a while before finally calming somewhat.

"How do we find the murderer? The real murderer, not that stupid beggar! Speak your minds."

The others exchanged glances.

Old yet vigorous, Ser Barristan pointed out several suspicious details.

"Logically speaking, even if the guards failed in their duties, once they were on alert, Lord Stannis's skill should have made it impossible for an ordinary child to injure him."

The king could not make sense of it either.

"That smuggler beside Stannis thinks it was some sort of sorcery, making the beggar immune to blades and turning armor into cloth. But he can't produce any evidence. Ridiculous."

Joffrey naturally knew why.

The magic energy of the Solid Rune had kept him from being injured and made the dagger tough and sharp enough to pierce armor. Fire Magic Energy had ensured that Stannis had no chance of surviving.

To be safe, he had even attached a mirror image of the Solid Rune to the dagger. The moment he sensed that the assassination was over, he destroyed that mirror image. The dagger had reverted to its original ordinary state, leaving behind no evidence at all.

That caution was paying off now. No one believed Stannis had died to mysterious power.

For a time, no one could think of any good ideas, so they could only remain silent.

After a long while, Tyrion stepped forward.

"Your Majesty, I fear we cannot see the truth clearly from here. Why not have Petyr and Lord Varys investigate thoroughly in King's Landing?"

"With Lord Stannis's hardline manner, uncovering the murderer will clearly require a great deal of effort."

"That happens to be the specialty of those two."

The king looked at the others. "Does anyone have another opinion?"

Tyrion's suggestion was perfectly reasonable and did no harm to anyone present. Who would go looking for trouble?

Besides, perhaps it really was nothing more than a beggar's revenge.

That would not have been strange for Stannis, either.

The king waved his hand irritably. "Dismissed. We'll do it that way."

The others quickly left.

The tent immediately seemed empty again, its atmosphere cold and desolate.

Joffrey walked up to King Robert and, for once, showed some understanding.

"Father, don't be too sad. Even if the murderer is never found, when Uncle sees Father's efforts from heaven, he surely won't blame you."

"Father still has us, Uncle Renly, and Lord Eddard."

Robert patted his son's shoulder with satisfaction.

"I'm fine. I know Stannis won't blame me."

"Good, my son. You've grown up. That's good, that's good..."

The king's gaze gradually turned distant and unfocused, as though he were recalling something.

Flap, flap, flap.

A large flock of Message Ravens rose from the king's convoy and flew toward every corner of the Seven Kingdoms.

The king informed the lords of the Seven Kingdoms of Stannis's tragic death and his own deep mourning, as well as the investiture of his eldest son, Joffrey Baratheon—as Prince of Dragonstone.

The king's decree quickly spread among the hundreds of knights and soldiers in the convoy.

As Joffrey walked through the camp, everyone he encountered greeted him with even greater respect.

"Good day, Your Highness, Crown Prince."

"Good day, Your Highness. We await the commands of the Prince of Dragonstone at any time."

"Your servant, Tyrion Lannister, offers his highest respects to our most beloved Crown Prince, the Prince of Dragonstone!"

Joffrey brought Tyrion before the lion's cage.

"Why has Uncle Tyrion suddenly become so polite? It's only one more title. It's nothing."

Joffrey appeared very calm, but Tyrion did not believe him at all.

Dragonstone might have been barren, but it had been House Targaryen's first fief in Westeros. For more than two hundred years, Targaryen kings had bestowed it upon the king's heir, who was known as the "Prince of Dragonstone."

With this title, Joffrey's status as heir to the Iron Throne became even more unshakable.

From a military standpoint alone, it was crucial who controlled Dragonstone.

Any intelligent person should know that Dragonstone and its subordinate lands commanded the vast Blackwater Bay. With only a fleet, one could blockade King's Landing's seaborne transport.

Its castle was also said to have been built with Valyrian magic, strong and easy to defend. That was less important.

"Your Highness, do you truly not want Dragonstone?"

Tyrion had personally handled Stannis's affair, so he naturally understood Joffrey's intentions.

"Enough of that, Uncle. Want to take this big fellow out for a ride?"

Joffrey leisurely stroked the Giant Lion's mane and motioned for the nearby soldiers to open the cage.

He had already tamed the beast.

Power fascinated every creature, and losing power was even harder to accept.

The Giant Lion understood that as well.

It accepted a powerful master and accepted its new name—Rainwater.

The moment he heard that name, Tyrion immediately understood Joffrey's intent.

Unable to help himself, he recited that ballad in an operatic tone:

"Oh, he said, he said, the Lord of Castamere, he said. But now, whenever the rains fall, Rainwater weeps in the hall, and no one is there. But now, whenever the rains fall, Rainwater weeps in the hall, and no soul remains."

Joffrey's interest did not diminish.

"Seriously, Harrenhal is nearby. We can ride Rainwater over for a visit. Haha, we'll definitely give those people quite a shock!"

Rainwater left the cage, immediately stretched its body, shook out its mane, and let out an unceasing roar toward the sky.

The soldiers in the camp instantly forgot all weariness and sleepiness. Trembling, they watched the giant beast's movements and prayed that they would not become its first target.

Rainwater lowered itself slightly.

Joffrey sat in the specially made seat on Rainwater's back, while Tyrion took the position behind him.

Roar~

Rainwater leaped several yards in a single bound and vanished from everyone's sight within a few breaths.

The soldiers watched this legendary scene in awe.

No one dared forget, wanted to forget, or could forget the Stag Crown Prince riding a mythic Giant Lion.

They decided they would tell their brothers, wives and daughters, sons, and grandsons of this epic scene. They would tell it in taverns, in inns, and around campfires, until they carried it into their graves.