Apart from Aemma, the maesters and healers were all scared witless. Tigris, the old maester who had delivered Danyla himself and watched her rise to power, collapsed to the ground in despair.
"No!"
The anguished cry pierced the night sky, startling Daemon so badly that he nearly slipped off Quicksilver's back just as he returned to the skies above the Manor. Viserys's hands were already slick with sweat.
By the time Viserys, Daemon, and Rhaenyra slid down from their great dragons, the blazing pyre had already swallowed all the condemned prisoners and Danyla.
At the sight, Viserys was overcome by dizziness. His legs immediately refused to obey him, leaving him unable to take another step. Rhaenyra hurriedly caught her father before he could fall, staring tearfully at the enormous pyre.
Although Daemon also staggered on weak legs, he quickly pulled himself together and charged desperately toward the fire.
He recklessly swung Dark Night, the Valyrian steel sword in his hand, driving back the Personal Guard who tried to stop him.
His bloodshot eyes looked like those of a great dragon about to breathe dragonfire, and no one dared meet his gaze.
Just as Daemon plunged heedlessly into the pyre, with his hair already catching fire, he heard Danyla's furious roar.
"I'm fine! All of you stay outside and behave! I'm in a bad mood right now, so don't bother me!"
"Huh?!"
Ignoring the burning pain in his hands and face, Daemon let out a breath of relief when he learned Danyla was all right. Even so, he endured the searing flames and stood guard before the pyre, refusing to retreat.
Hearing Danyla's strong, clear voice, Viserys and the others finally breathed a sigh of relief as well. Still, everything before them left them utterly bewildered.
They could hardly be blamed.