Viserys looked uncertain.
In his view, he ought to execute Cole, but if he stripped a knight of his dignity before death...
What would the Kingsguard think?
If word spread, would the nobles say he was too cruel?
Baelon sighed.
It was as though Viserys had two hearts in his chest.
One filled him with rage and made him spit venomous words; afterward, the other reflected on his actions and deemed everything he had done excessive.
Baelon was even a little surprised.
In the original story, Viserys had actually managed to insist on keeping Rhaenyra as his heir for so many years.
Without hesitation or wavering!
He delivered his verdict. "Ser Cole forsook his knightly vows. He does not deserve a knight's death."
"Father, execute that criminal outright!"
Stop dragging this out!
Deal with Cole quickly, so I can bring up going to Dragonstone to tame a dragon!
At those words, Cole went deathly pale.
Resentment and defiance surged within him.
Why?!
He was waiting for death, alone and helpless!
Yet Rhaenyra remained respectable and unscathed, as though nothing had happened!
Viserys could not make up his mind.
Over the past six years, Baelon had learned all too well that most people in this world had one-track minds.
Specifically, they found it very hard to listen to anyone else's advice.
Take Rhaenyra: he had privately warned her more than once not to go for a white knight, not a white knight!
It was not as though there were no handsome Hedge Knights or bards!
But Rhaenyra would not listen. She insisted on playing with Criston Cole.
With Viserys, he could only adapt and offer another suggestion.
"Ser Cole has forsaken his vows twice. I do not believe such a man has any chivalry left in his heart."
"Why give him a sword and allow someone like him a chance to hurt Ser Harrold?"
"Father, if you wish to grant him one final honor, let the Kingdom's royal executioner send Ser Cole to the Stranger's realm!"
Viserys's brow gradually relaxed.
The last trace of color drained from Ser Cole's face.
He abruptly dropped to his knees and lifted his clothes, exposing the scars on his abdomen.
His voice was anguished. "Your Grace, I have shed blood for the Iron Throne. Please let me die fighting."
"Ah..."
With a sigh, Viserys leaned back against the Iron Throne.
He waved a hand. "Give him a sword."
"Hiss-"
Viserys suddenly sucked in a sharp breath and raised his hand.
Baelon looked toward the sound.
Blood was flowing from Viserys's little finger.
Clearly, a sharp blade on the Iron Throne had cut him.
The Kingsguard had watched Cole coldly. Now Ser Willis Fell drew his longsword.
With a cold snort, he tossed it in front of Cole.
Cole gripped the hilt, his feelings bleak and tangled.
What good would a sword do? He had no armor, not even leather or mail.
"Come!" Ser Harrold raised his longsword and took his stance.
His words had barely faded when laughter rang out from the entrance to the Throne Room.
"It seems I've returned at just the right time!"
An eager smile curled Daemon Targaryen's lips as he strode swiftly into the hall.
At the same time, he slowly drew Dark Sister.
Dark Sister left its sheath with a pleasing sound.
Rhaenyra followed behind Daemon, carrying the Dragon Egg in her arms.
Smiling, she raised the Dragon Egg to show Viserys and Baelon.
"Daemon!" Viserys let out a full breath of relief, a smile appearing on his face.
Good!
Everything was resolved!
Ser Cole was about to be executed, and both the Dragon Egg and Daemon were back!
"Ser Cole, you defeated me once at the tourney, and people call you the most skilled knight."
"I beg to differ." Daemon casually waved Ser Harrold aside. "Brother, let me do it!"
Viserys nodded his agreement with some concern.
He knew that, at heart, Daemon loved melees and bloodshed, and delighted in the music of clashing swords.
Daemon fixed his eyes on Cole, the ecstasy of battle blazing in his chest.
He stripped off his mail and pointed straight at Cole in delight. "Come!"
"Let us see whom the Warrior stands behind!"
Cole's gaze swept past Daemon.
At that moment, Rhaenyra was stepping out from behind Daemon, heading along the side toward the Iron Throne.
She looked at him with such pitying, hypocritical eyes!
A knight's final battle, under the princess's gaze?
Sadly, whatever the outcome, he would die.
Cole drew a deep breath and tightened his grip on the longsword.
A battle against a dragonrider?
That was not a bad ending.
He advanced with powerful strides and suddenly swung his sword down at Daemon's head!
Daemon brought his blade up to parry, the clash of sharp steel making his blood boil.
He hacked down hard, his blade tearing through the air!
Cole shifted his footing, twisting and dodging.
Everyone thought they were about to witness a splendid fight.
Then everything changed!
Cole slammed into Rhaenyra!
Caught completely off guard, Rhaenyra crashed to the floor, her head spinning.
The Dragon Egg rolled across the floor, turning several times.
Dazed, Rhaenyra found her world filled with clamor.
Her father's harsh shout, the Kingsguard's shocked and furious curses, Daemon's piercing roar.
Someone seized her hair and dragged her up from the floor, and cold touched her neck.
Only then did she realize what had happened.
Ser Cole had taken her hostage?!
"Let me go!" Cole's voice was frantic and desperate.
His expression hovered between tears and laughter, his laugh shrill with anguish.
"This is all your fault!"
The longsword pressed hard against Rhaenyra's neck. "You wh*re, you brought me to this!"
The Kingsguard flew into a rage, yet hurried to shield Viserys and Baelon.
But Viserys was scared out of his wits. He all but lunged forward, stumbling. "Let Rhaenyra go!"
"You may leave!"
For once, Baelon shut his mouth with an ugly look on his face.
He did not want to be wise after the event!
But hadn't he said it?!
Don't give him a sword! Don't give him a sword!
Huh?!
Would listening to him just once kill them?!
Daemon's face was livid, his hand clenched around his sword hilt.
No one had imagined Cole would abandon chivalry completely and take Rhaenyra hostage.
Rhaenyra looked across the hall, now in utter chaos.
Viserys trembled all over, barely able to stand, while a red-faced Baelon supported his father.
Uncle Daemon was breathing hard.
Tears filled her eyes.
Rhaenyra said softly, "Cole, I truly did like you."
The blade lay against the skin of her neck, and a thin trickle of blood ran down its edge.
Rhaenyra gently grasped Cole's sword wrist. "I still remember the day I first saw you."
"That day, I stood on the battlements, and many knights came before me, one after another."
"They wore better equipment than you, splendid armor and bright cloaks."
Cole gritted his teeth. "Enough. Stop talking!"
"What good is saying any of that now?!"
Rhaenyra's tears fell. "But in that sea of people, my eyes saw only you."
"You were alone. All the other knights had squires following them. Only you had none."
"But you held your own helmet and stood among the knights, proud and confident."
She gave a dazed smile. "You were like a bright silver flame."
Her other hand slowly, slowly drew the Dragonbone Dagger at her waist.
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