Without thinking, Wylis just kept dragging the cart further into the throne room.
Lyanna is pregnant with my kid? Why didn't it trigger when we did it? She's… all alone there, probably worried sick. Fuck! I gotta go back, all else can go to shit!
Doing his best to control his emotions, Wylis pulled himself back to reality. The hall was full of faces he didn't recognize. The atmosphere was suffocating, as if there was only fear there. Other than the King, nobody was clapping.
Wait, where's Rhaegar?
Wylis eyed the hall but couldn't find the prince. He did find Elia Martell and Ashara Dayne, standing on the side with guards around them. Rhaella Targaryen was missing, as expected. But the prince… there was no sign of him.
"Marvelous! Oh, what a marvelous day this is! You've stirred joy in my bones, boy—joy! Come, come closer. Yes, roll that cart nearer—I must see it! I must!" The King erratically, emotionally roared, like a child glimpsing a long-lost toy—or a pyromancer his fire.
Wylis felt it right then. The King was much worse mentally than the last time he saw him. There was more madness in the eyes, in the voice, in every little motion. The filthy looks were the same, however.
Finally, Wylis brought the cart all the way, as close as he could get to the throne, which was right beside the first steps of the throne's dais. From there, the King had the clearest view of both Wylis and the cart.
"Your Grace," Wylis greeted and took to one knee, paying his respects. "By your royal command to cleanse the land of those foul bandits, I've cut down a hundred and five, and brought their heads to show the truth of it."
Clap! Clap! Clap!
King Aerys clapped harder, so hard that his entire thin body shook, his massive, filthy beard came in the way, and his weird, elongated nails collided with each other.
"Glorious! I knew you were no dull breath, boy. Go on, throw them out—toss their heads to the court! Let me see the terror still clinging to their faces. Pycelle, aid the lad! Let him display my triumph!"
My triumph?
Wylis scoffed inside at the King's words. In King's mind, because Wylis accomplished the deed on his orders, the end credit belonged to the King, not to Wylis. That was the kind of man Aerys II was.
Wasting no time, Wylis and Pycelle started unloading the sacks from the carriage. As soon as they tossed the contents of the first one, the entire hall let out a gasp, and a few feminine yelps also came. But only the King was laughing.
"Hah! Look at their faces! Eyes still open, the fear of my wrath! This is what you get for stealing from me! From betraying your king! More... Show me all of them. Ser Gerold, go and aid them!"
It was an absolute show of the King's madness. While the people in the hall had darkened faces, disgust and fear clear, the King almost jumped for joy.
Thud!
Thud!
One after another, all the sacks were emptied. A hill of severed, rotting heads piled up on the carpeted floor. All the faces were different, some showed expressions that made the King laugh, others made the King furious as Ser Gerold revealed that they belonged to the Kingswood Brotherhood's offshoots.
"Pycelle! Fetch the wildfire, you hear? Let their blackened skulls burn for all to see! The realm must remember the King's wrath—let the rats in hiding tremble!"
For the first time, Wylis saw the wildfire burn. Though he didn't care as his mind was busy thinking about Lyanna, and where Rhaegar was.
In mere moments, over a hundred severed skulls were burned in green flames. From the start to the ashes, it was fast, the fire was dangerously potent. Even some of the lavish carpet got burned, but the King didn't care, just relishing the view.
As the fire finished burning, the King seemingly moaned even in his twisted way. Clapping, rejoicing at the view.
"Boy."
Thud!
Ignoring the charred floor, Wylis took to the knee. "Your Grace."
Ting!
[Mad King's Admiration Triggered]
[Mad King's Current [Censored] - 99.5%]
W-What? Wylis looked up at the King right away and his heart sank. The filthy man was licking his lips while eyeing him. What the fuck is that censored word? What does he want from me?
"How tall are you, my boy?"
Why? What's that got to do with anything?
"By my guess, I've hit seven feet, give or take, Your Grace."
"Ahhh, splendid! As I foresaw, yes. Tell me—how much more will you stretch before you burst like a ripe fruit, hmm?"
W-What? What the fuck? Burst? Fruit?
"I'd wager two, maybe three inches more, so long as I'm properly fed."
"Mmmh… Yes, yes… you'll eat well, won't you? Stuffed like a goose for a feast!" King Aerys's eyes grew narrow, while his lips maintained that curved smile. "I recall now, yes, yes—I did promise a reward. You've pleased your king. And the king always repays loyalty… with beauty, with fire, with something…"
Finally, just give me the damn knighthood.
Guilt ate at him. He wanted to go back and be with Lyanna as quickly as possible. Her pregnancy was unplanned, and he didn't want it to become her sad memory. Also, knowing she died during childbirth in another time, he was worried.
"Ser Gerold, bring me your sword." King Aerys rose from his throne and started walking down from the dais. "Winterfell breeds such dull names—Wylis, Wylis… no music in it. But Ser Wylis! Oh, that sings."
Wylis lowered his head, being a domineering man even when kneeling. He listened to the sound of the unsheathed sword, and the King taking it. He heard the King's footsteps come closer, and he waited to feel that blade on his shoulders and take the knight's oath.
No more a damn stableboy. No more lowering my head and eyes. Finally…
Dream of two lives was finally getting fulfilled. Sure, he was a filthy rich billionaire back there, but it was simply not possible to be a real knight there. That concept didn't exist. But in Westeros, he finally had it. An actual, recognized knight.
Wait for me, Lyanna. Just a little.
Pat!
King Aerys reeked of filth. But Wylis kept his head bowed and just looked at those thin legs. He felt the tap of the sword on his right shoulder and waited for the King to initiate the oath.
He waited.
He kept waiting.
But when he didn't feel the sword move from his right shoulder, he looked up and realized the King wasn't even looking at him. No, the King was instead looking into the distance, towards the door. His violet eyes were shimmering in a maddened glaze.
No, no, no, no… Don't you dare refuse now.
Time passed, and King Aerys seemed to be lost in his thoughts.
"Your Grace?" Ser Gerold Hightower, sensing the strangeness, came forward.
King Aerys finally turned his head, looking at the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, and then he looked back down at Wylis. A weird smile crept on the King's lips and he retracted that sword.
"More… Too much… too quickly… for a stable rat in boy's armor. I saw no true blade swung—just a mummer's joust. The heads were lovely things… but how do we know who truly made them roll?" King Aerys said, and turned around abruptly, walking back to his throne. "Pycelle! Fetch the hourglass. Let us test him once more—once and for all."
What do you mean, you sick fuck? Your spies saw me fuck Genna, probably castrating Gregor too!
Wylis was once again made to remember that he was nothing but entertainment to King Aerys. Even to the Lannisters, he was just entertainment. A circus creature meant to be looked at and marveled, not befriended.
Anxiety and a little bit of fear arose. He wasn't fireproof, and if the King decided to burn him with wildfire, he had no way to escape.
Can I buy something? There should be something in Tyrant's Squire.
Pycelle being an old man, took time. Wylis used that time to discreetly scroll through the shop of the Tyrant's Squire. Still kneeling, looking down, he looked calm to all.
There it is! Fuck!
[Fire Immunity - 60 Years]
The price was extremely steep. So steep that if he bought it, he'd only have one year and five months left to live. But it was something. If all failed, and even battling his way out of the Red Keep became impossible, and if the King made up his mind to burn, perhaps…
I'll kill this bastard myself!
He looked at the crowds. There was mostly pity in everyone's eyes. Ashara Dayne was the only one with worry. Even Elia Martell showed some. Then there were a few with smiles on their faces.
"Here, Your Grace." Pycelle returned at last and handed the hourglass to the King.
"Hmm… Arise, Wylis." King Aerys ordered, and then eyed the Kingsguards. "Ser Gerold, Ser Arthur, and Ser Barristan."
Quickly, the three Kingsguards, the three strongest knights of Westeros walked before the throne and knelt.
"This… I shall flip this cursed hourglass, and until a quarter of its grains fall, you three will battle Wylis—at once. You will not falter, you will not pretend. Your king requires truth—truth in blood. Slay the giant if you must."
Wylis' fists clenched hard. His breath grew disorderly as he eyed the King on the throne, and then the three knights. He had no clue if he could do it.
A toy! I'm a fucking toy to him!
"And you, boy..." King Aerys smiled toward Wylis. "Cling to life by tooth or nail, survive! The prize… oh, the prize will be worth the blood."
To hell with your goddamn prize!
______________________
Check out Wylis X Lyanna & Wylis X Rhaella Creampie NSFW ART, and advance chapters at P@treon.com/MrPlotThickens Or Subscribestar.adult/mrplotthickens
Advance chapters on [PATREON] are in long-form format. I have 5 long chapters of this story on Patreon. That's equal to 22-25 Webnovel chapters.
Old Free Art on Discord: https://discord.gg/W5FdB6WXaP