Had they yielded?
What could they do if they hadn't?
Pit their heads against that Ice Sword, wider than a door?
Ser Gretly Grafton trembled as he picked up the greatsword from the ground.
He no longer looked at Lynn, turning his gaze instead to Bronze Yohn.
In the Vale, House Royce's prestige sometimes surpassed even that of House Arryn.
Bronze Yohn's stance would directly determine the future of the entire Vale.
Yohn Royce slowly rose to his feet.
He did not look at the knights sprawled on the ground or acknowledge the hopeful gazes the nobles around him cast his way.
He simply stared fixedly at Lynn, emotions of immense complexity churning in his sharp eyes.
There was humiliation, anger, and resentment.
But more than anything, there was the relief of finally understanding something.
He suddenly remembered the young man from the North who had stood in the Eyrie more than twenty years ago, earnestly asking him for advice on swordsmanship.
Ned Stark.
The man who valued honor more than life itself.
Yohn Royce had never understood how someone like Ned could support a King Beyond the Wall like Lynn, a man surrounded by uncertainty and unpredictability.
Now, he thought he understood a little.
He turned to face all the nobles of the Vale, his voice ringing like a great bell.
"Did you all hear that?"
"Lord Jon Arryn was poisoned by that madwoman and her vile lover!"
"Lysa Arryn is unworthy of being the Vale's Protector!"
"She betrayed the honor of House Arryn and the entire Vale! She played us all for fools!"
His words rang with conviction, exploding in every listener's heart.
Some nobles who had still clung to false hopes finally lowered their heads.
Indeed, if even Bronze Yohn said so, what was left for them