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Chaos in King's Landing
The sun shone brightly like a vigorous flame, with a line of clouds streaking across the clear sky.
Between the walls, traces of ancient and new stones remained where repairs had been made. King's Landing had not forgotten the flames of war; the charred soil still told tales of fire and blood.
War had displaced countless people. They huddled in the shadows of the city walls, suffering from hunger and cold as autumn nights grew chilly.
Although supplies flowed steadily from the Reach in the south, food prices in King's Landing remained stubbornly high. Even so, this regular commerce helped calm the populace's fears.
The Street of Mud bustled with activity during this time.
Yet no one dared join the chaotic excitement as refugees beneath the city wall began to riot.
During a shift change of the Gold Cloaks, someone spotted a child climbing the city wall, only to be pushed off by several Gold Cloaks on duty.
When refugees poured through the Mud Gate, the Gold Cloaks lacked the manpower to hold them back.
Streets descended into chaos, with people seizing the opportunity to loot.
Three knights in bright clothing quickly became targets for the refugees, and nearby wealthy merchants and blacksmiths were caught in the violence as well.
The rapid sound of hoofbeats startled everyone.
Through the crowd, a heraldic banner bearing a sun-pierced spear appeared in the distance, followed closely by banners displaying a purple lemon grove, a vulture clutching a baby, a skeleton wearing a golden crown, and three black scorpions.
The knights of Dorne came charging from Aegon's High Hill.
It was neither the Gold Cloaks nor the Lannisters who arrived first to restore order, but the Dornishmen.
When Prince Oberyn led his Dornishmen rushing from the Red Keep, many onlookers were truly frightened.
Naturally, the Lannisters received the news first.
The Imp, Tyrion, was enjoying a meal in his tower. He and his new bride silently ate mutton from their plates when suddenly his squire Podrick burst in, reporting that the Prince of Dorne had left the castle with a group of knights, looking ready for battle.
Gods be damned! Tyrion cursed inwardly. Something must have happened in the city again.
His first thought was: "Are the Dornish and Highgarden fighting again?"
Soon he received an answer to his question. Prince Oberyn of Dorne had gone to rescue Jon Snow.
To be honest, Tyrion doubted his ears when he heard the news.
The Red Viper going to save Jon Snow? Are you certain there's no mistake? When did their relationship become so cordial?
But Tyrion quickly identified another crucial aspect of this news.
Why would anyone need to save Jon Snow? What had happened?
After learning the details, Tyrion headed directly to the Hand's Tower.
He needed answers.
Upon entering the study in the Hand's Tower, Tyrion discovered his uncle Kevan was also present.
Ser Kevan Lannister had lost considerable weight during his period of grief.
"Tyrion, we were about to send for you," his uncle told him.
It seemed Lord Tywin was far better informed than he.
"How could there be a rebellion at the Mud Gate?" Tyrion stared at Lord Tywin. This was truly strange.
"The Gold Cloaks killed a refugee child and caused unrest," Uncle Kevan answered.
Bronn had once told Tyrion that given a few dozen Gold Cloaks, he could kill all the refugees beneath the city wall, so what were the Gold Cloaks doing? And Tyrion remembered giving orders that as long as refugees caused no trouble on the wall, they were to be left alone.
"Then why was Prince Oberyn wounded by an arrow?" Tyrion continued.
Yes, according to reports, Prince Oberyn had apparently been struck by an arrow in the leg. The Tyrells must be delighted now.
"It was merely an accident. No one expected any of the refugees to possess a bow and arrow," Lord Tywin said.
An accident indeed. I think it was well planned. Those arrows were clearly meant for Jon Snow. Who do you think you're fooling, Father?
"Though the boy's death would certainly benefit us, how could I allow such a thing to happen under my watch?" Tywin's eyes flashed with anger. "I'm not that foolish, Tyrion."
"Varys just sent word that Stannis appears to be dying. That's why your father has been restraining himself for so long," Ser Kevan explained.
Tyrion's expression grew even more suspicious, as if asking Tywin: truly, this wasn't your doing?
"You shouldn't doubt your father, Tyrion," Kevan reminded him. After all, his surname was Lannister.
"If our guests face danger on our territory, what should we do next?" Tyrion could only ask with a shrug.
"I intend for you to go," Lord Tywin ordered.
"I won't do it," the Imp said fiercely. Leave this sort of thing to the dwarf son, right?
"You were originally responsible for entertaining them. This is your duty," Lord Tywin looked at him.
No, such matters should be handled by the king himself to show proper respect.
"I'm merely the Master of Coin, not of foreign affairs," he said angrily.
"Then from this moment, you are. In my capacity as Hand, I name you Minister of Foreign Affairs."
"Go to hell." No such position existed on the Small Council.
Jon Snow broke off several arrow fletches. The presence of archers among the refugees deepened his suspicions.
Someone wanted him dead, but who? His thoughts turned first to Varys.
He had happened to come here for his sword, and there happened to be a riot.
However, Jon could never have anticipated the Dornishmen's arrival. Prince Martell led his cavalry to swiftly suppress the rebellion.
Prince Oberyn took an arrow in the foot, blood quickly darkening his light red robes.
Ignoring his wound, he rode directly toward where the arrow had come from. Jon watched as Oberyn's lance impaled the enemy, driving him a considerable distance with the momentum of his horse.
The archers were no match for him, falling after just a few moves as his black warhorse trampled one underfoot.
After the Gold Cloaks secured the scene, the Dornishmen helped their prince dismount. A maester came to treat his wounds, but the prince's eyes remained fixed on Jon Snow's face.
Jon approached to express his gratitude. Had Prince Oberyn not rushed to his aid, Jon would have had to block those arrows himself.
But the prince's intense gaze made Jon uneasy, especially considering the rumors he'd heard about the Prince of Dorne.
"Your Excellency, I'm deeply grateful for your help," he said, turning his sword to rest on the back of his hand.
The prince did not immediately return to the Red Keep but instead took them to a brothel on the Street of Silk.
Jon hesitated at the entrance. It was difficult to refuse the Prince of Dorne's hospitality, particularly after he had just saved Jon's life.
The prince sat on the edge of a bed, dismissed everyone, and didn't even call for a courtesan.
Two Dornish soldiers guarded the door.
He produced a letter. "Varys asked me to give you this."
Jon approached with a puzzled expression. He had never seen such a wax seal before, secured with a multi-metal ring.
The seal had been broken. Jon took out the letter...