"I really want to return this hot potato to him..." Lyonel glanced at the empty seat next to the first seat, which used to be Otto's seat.
If Otto had attended today, perhaps he could have been more relaxed, but His Majesty the King had someone send a message to Otto to "temporarily avoid the spotlight."
This move seems to be to ease the conflict, but in fact it is more like adding fuel to the fire - even the king is deliberately avoiding it. Doesn't this mean that the situation has become extremely dangerous?
Sitting opposite Lyonel is Grand Maester Orwyle.
The white-haired old man had his hands folded in his broad sleeves, his back straight, his eyes slightly closed, as if he had fallen into trance.
There was an exquisite wooden box in front of him, which contained parchment and quills to record the meeting, but he didn't even look at it.
As a bachelor who has served three kings, Orwyle has seen too many storms and has long learned to remain silent in the whirlpool of power.
A battle for succession?
That was a game between House Targaryen and those ambitious nobles. He just wanted to safely perform his duties and record history, rather than participate in it.
Master of Coin Lyman Bisbury has another look.
The fat aristocrat had a consistent smile on his face, tapping his fingers lightly on the desk, as if he didn't care about the coming storm.
House Beesbury generations are in charge of the kingdom's finances, and their wealth is so rich that many kings are jealous.
For Lyman, it may not matter who becomes the king. What matters is that the tax revenue can be deposited on time and the gold mine can continue to be mined - as long as there is no war and as long as the trade routes are smooth, his family will always be able to make a lot of money.
Different from Lyman's calmness, Master of Laws Jasper Wilder's face was filled with joy that was difficult to conceal.
He frequently looked in the direction of the door, unable to hide the smile on his lips.
Wilder has always been a staunch supporter of Greens, and the return of Otto is undoubtedly great news for him.
He has already begun to calculate how much benefit he can get if Aegon II comes to power - maybe he can get his son into Kingsguard? Maybe he can get more fiefdoms?
Master of Ships Tyland·Lannister still has the same iceberg face that has remained unchanged for thousands of years.
The second son of House Lannister is tall, has blond hair like a waterfall, and has cold eyes, as if he was born with the coldness of Casterly Rock.
His fingers unconsciously rubbed the family crest on his waist, but his mind was planning the deployment of the Narrow Sea fleet.
House Lannister is currently maintaining neutrality, but Tyland knows very well that neutrality is only temporary. Once the situation becomes clear, he must make a choice as soon as possible - should he support Rhaenyra or fall to Aegon?
No matter which path you choose, you must ensure that Lannister's fleet can control Blackwater Bay.
Sitting at the bottom is Master of Whisperers Larys Strong.
The younger brother of Lyonel is thin and pale, with one eye slightly squinting, giving people a sinister and cunning feeling.
At this moment, he was gently stroking the stubble on his chin with his fingers, a faint smile hanging on the corner of his mouth, and his eyes swept over everyone's faces one by one, as if he was enjoying a carefully choreographed drama.
Almost nothing about King's Landing's secrets could be hidden from his ears, including the quarrel in Redd's study last night, including the few words Otto had during their secret conversation with the king.
But he won't say anything. Intelligence is his weapon, and it can only play its greatest role at the most critical moments.
On one side of the meeting hall, Captain Kingsguard, Sir Ke Lys ton·Cole, stood like an iron tower.
His short charcoal-black hair was meticulously groomed, and his light green eyes were as sharp as an eagle, staring closely in the direction of the door.
The Longsword at the waist was polished until it was shiny, and the gems on the sword hilt shone with a cold light in the candlelight.
It is his duty to protect the king's safety, but today, his nerves are more tense than ever.
He couldn't forget the last scene of his fight with Redd.
Redd only used three moves to disarm his sword.
The sound of Valyrian steel sword and "Dark Sister" cutting through the air still lingers in his ears.
Redd's force, speed, and even the undisguised murderous intention all made him feel fear - it was a kind of awe of absolute power that came from his bones.
"He will come today..." K Lys's palms began to sweat, and his fingers subconsciously clenched the hilt of the sword.
Last night, His Majesty the King specifically told him to ensure the order of the meeting. "No matter what happens, no one should be allowed to use force in the meeting hall."
But he knew in his heart that if Redd really wanted to do something, even if all Kingsguard were deployed, they might not be able to stop it.
At this moment, there was a steady sound of footsteps coming from the door.
Everyone's eyes immediately turned to the door.
The first person to appear was King Viserys I. He was wearing a dark red velvet robe embroidered with the three-headed dragon emblem, and a golden crown symbolizing royal power.
But at this moment, his face was as pale as paper, and his breathing was somewhat rapid. He was being carefully supported by two guards, and every step he took seemed extremely difficult.
His physical condition is getting worse and worse, and it has become difficult to maintain basic decency.
Viserys sat down on the front seat and took a few deep breaths before slowly raising his head and scanning the crowd with tired eyes.
When his eyes fell on Lyonel, he paused slightly, but said nothing. He just closed his eyes, as if to gather strength.
Immediately afterwards, Redd and Rhaenyra appeared at the door.
Rhaenyra is wearing a purple dress with a dragon scale pattern embroidered with gold thread on the skirt, highlighting her identity as princess Targaryen.
But her face was a little pale, her eyes were evasive, and she did not dare to look at the people in the hall. It was obvious that she had not recovered from the shock of last night.
She followed Redd subconsciously, her steps staggering a bit.
And Redd is like an unsheathed sword, exuding a compelling edge.
He wore a black leather armor and a dark gray cloak, the hem of the cloak swaying gently as he walked.
The most eye-catching thing is the sword hanging on his waist - the sword is long and narrow, and completely black, as if it can absorb the surrounding light. It is the Valyrian steel sword, "Dark Sister" that has left countless legends in the history of Westeros.
This sword has been kept by Redd since the last martial arts tournament and is rarely shown to outsiders. At this moment, he hangs it on his waist openly, and his intention is self-evident.
Redd's pace is not fast, but every step is like stepping on everyone's heart.
Without looking at anyone, he walked straight to the seat on the left hand side of the king - that was the exclusive seat for Rhaenyra as the heir.
Rhaenyra hesitated for a moment, then walked over and sat down next to him.
The time when the two sat down was only a few breaths apart, but they seemed to be announcing something silently.
Redd As soon as he sat down, the atmosphere in the conference hall instantly dropped to freezing point.
Viserys opened his eyes suddenly and looked at the sword at Redd's waist with complicated eyes. His lips moved as if he wanted to say something, but in the end it just turned into a helpless sigh.
He understands Redd's character. It seems casual, but in fact every move has a purpose.
Today he took "Dark Sister" with him, obviously preparing for the worst.
Lyonel's fingers stopped tapping on the table, and his brows furrowed even more tightly.
He knew that Redd's visitor today was evil, but he did not expect that the other party would show force so openly.
Is this a threat? A threat to the king? A threat to everyone here?
The smile on Lyman's face faded, and his chubby fingers began to rub the corners of his clothes unconsciously.
What he fears most is this kind of tense situation. Once he takes action, no matter who wins or loses, the kingdom's finances will be severely damaged and his business will be greatly affected.
Jasper Wilder's joyful expression also faded a bit, and there was a hint of vigilance in his eyes.
Although he supports Aegon II, he doesn't want to go head-to-head with a lunatic like Redd.
That "Dark Sister" had drunk the blood of countless nobles, and he didn't want to be the next one.
Tyland·Lannister's eyes were a little colder, and his right hand quietly pressed on the hilt of the sword under the table.
Lannister is never afraid of threats, but he doesn't want to conflict with Redd on this occasion - at least not now.
Larys Strong's smile deepened, and he looked at Redd with interest, as if he was studying an interesting toy.
He was very curious, what exactly is Redd going to do today? Is it for Rhaenyra or for himself?
The most nervous thing is Lys ton·Cole.
Almost as soon as Redd sat down, he walked quickly behind Viserys, holding the hilt of the sword tightly with both hands, his knuckles turning white from the exertion.
His body leaned forward slightly, his eyes fixed on Redd, and all the muscles in his body were tense. As long as Redd made any abnormal movement, he would draw his sword immediately.