Under the suddenly quiet atmosphere, the sound of Varys swallowing in his throat was very clear.
Sweat was already gradually seeping out on his forehead. Lifting his sleeve to wipe it, the expression on Varys's face was already worse than crying.
"Your Grace, King Robert's death has nothing to do with me—" Varys gritted his teeth, wanting to explain, but he found that whatever he said now would be wrong.
"Then you must know something. Tell me, Varys. If you cannot convince me, then you will be the sacrificial offering buried with the King. I will let you live, and then light a pile of bonfire at your feet."
Kal's voice was cold like the frost and snow of the North. His eyes suddenly opened, and he turned his head to stare at the Spider.
"What I can know is far less than what Ser Barristan Selmy can tell you."
"And as for what I can tell you now, it is that the wine servant selected from the household servants has already died in his own room."
Varys, with a mournful face, gestured toward Ser Barristan Selmy, who was seated as well.
Then, immediately after, he spoke of something shocking.
Before Eddard Stark could ask, Kal abruptly sat up. "That wine servant? Dead? Murdered, or suicide?!"
Varys shook his head. "Not clear. A cup of poisoned wine ended his life. No signs of struggle. It looks like suicide."
Kal furrowed his brows, his eyes deep as he stared at Varys.
Hearing this, Hand of the King Eddard Stark also began breathing rapidly. "When did he die?"
"We are waiting for the maester's examination of the body. The result has not come out yet, and then, my lord Hand, you ordered the Small Council to be convened."
Hearing that it was his own subordinates doing the examination, Grand Maester Payton, who realized the seriousness of the matter, stroked his beard. "Is it possible that he simply killed himself out of fear of being implicated?"
"But we cannot rule out that someone behind this wants to do something!" Eddard shook his head, his expression extremely grim.
Grand Maester Payton's beard-stroking paused, and his brows tightened in a deep frown.
"If it is so, then who would it be?"
"Stannis Baratheon? His suspicion is great. And before this, in the council, he strongly pushed for the laws to first confirm him as heir to the Iron Throne!"
Grand Maester Payton raised his own reasonable suspicion.
After hearing this, Hand of the King Eddard Stark also spoke through clenched teeth: "Renly Baratheon and the Tyrell family cannot escape involvement either. Yesterday evening, after the King died, he spoke with me. It was about Your Grace Kal's inheritance—"
"And this royal hunt, Renly and the Tyrell family followed the King together. But after Robert announced that Kal would become King, he then chose to leave together with the Tyrells at such a time."
"Even Margaery Tyrell followed, and Lord Mace Tyrell of Highgarden."
As Varys continued speaking, under the momentum of conspiracy speculation, the two suspects named in the Small Council instantly froze the atmosphere into a sheet of ice.
In the scorching heat of King's Landing, cold sweat gathered on the Grand Maester's back.
The Tyrell family was easier to speak of, but the remaining two suspects were the King's own brothers.
He turned his head, his tone somewhat strained. "Your Grace… should we first summon the two of them before the throne to question them? If we issue accusations like this…"
"Grand Maester, do you think that is possible?"
Before Kal could reply, Varys punctured his naïve thought.
"Whether it is or is not, there is already no room left for turning this around—. The charge of murdering a king is one they cannot bear."
Hearing this, Payton wished he could resign on the spot and return to the Citadel to bury himself in study.
Because even if he were a fool, he understood that at this moment nothing could be clarified by words alone.
And added to that, the new King sitting beside them was still a bastard risen to the throne. If he had even the slightest thought, then neither of the late King's brothers would survive—especially with such a convenient excuse before them.
And even if Kal truly had no such thoughts, what about the two former King's brothers?
Would they really be so naïve? Without any wariness? Without any ambition for the throne?
Leaving aside whether the King's death had anything to do with them.
Would they not fear that King Kal Baratheon might seize this excuse to strike at them?
Even if Kal pitied their blood relation and did not kill them, under stripping of titles and lands, they would have nothing left.
Because by doing so, Kal Baratheon could not only remove a major threat, but also, given that these two Baratheon lords had no heirs or successors—
Kal Baratheon's position could be said to become incomparably secure.
That bastard of his, the other portion of low-born blood flowing in his body, would no longer be a place others could attack.
No wonder the two of them immediately ran once they saw that things were going wrong.
From the key point Varys had highlighted, Grand Maester Payton rubbed the center of his brow again after thinking the matter through.
Because with their running away, this matter became completely impossible to explain clearly.
At such a time, the situation they would next face would inevitably be that both sides would each hold to their own words, and then war would begin.
Whoever won would be the one who was right.
And as for why the Tyrell family would be involved—although it was somewhat strange—there was no clear way to say what exactly had happened.
He could not think further. Payton only felt that the more he thought, the more his head hurt, and the more tangled everything became.
But what he could be certain of was that a blood-soaked storm revolving around the throne was going to unfold once again.
Varys's quietly pointed words not only awakened Grand Maester Payton, but the Hand of the King, Eddard Stark—who still had some goodness and the knight's way in his heart—could also understand this point.
But none of that mattered. What mattered was whether they bore suspicion of murdering the King—this could not be washed away at all.
After all, Stannis's earlier demand to first confirm his succession rights was truly too strange. From the current point of view, he must have anticipated something.
It might even be that this entire matter was planned by him.
And Renly Baratheon and the Tyrell family were even the ones who had personally followed the King on the hunt.
"Your Grace, I agree with Grand Maester Payton's suggestion. We must at least first issue a summons to Lord Renly Baratheon and Lord Stannis Baratheon, asking them to come before the throne to receive questioning."
"At the very least, we cannot simply issue accusations against them like this. We must try to avoid letting war occur again."
"Or… directly have them swear fealty to you—"
For the sake of the kingdom, Eddard Stark had already begun saying words that went against his own heart.
Because the meaning of his words was obvious: if this matter truly was done by one of the two brothers, then, for the sake of preventing the coming war, and on account of them swearing fealty—
Could Kal show leniency?
As he spoke, Eddard Stark felt grief inside, yet he was helpless.
Varys looked at the two "naïve" men before him—the Hand and the Grand Maester—and said nothing further, only shaking his head meaninglessly.
Because Kal could indeed do this, and could even earn a good reputation from it.
But would Stannis Baratheon and Renly Baratheon dare to do so?
Or rather—would they even be willing?
In their claims and in legal right, to Kal Baratheon, they were a piece of fat meat.
But Kal Baratheon, with no foundation and standing alone—was he not an even fatter piece of meat right before their eyes?
Only the victor has the right to speak. Whatever the one who sits on the Iron Throne says is what becomes truth.
However, after hearing the two men's suggestions, Kal did not speak immediately.
Instead, after a moment of deep thought, he suddenly turned his head toward Varys.
"Lord Varys, you just said that the wine servant died after drinking poisoned wine?"
"Yes, Your Grace."
Kal's brows tightened, his gaze cold. "Then I want to know where the Martell family is right now. Are they still in King's Landing?"
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