Listening to the sounds of battle outside the city walls, Lord Giles of Rosby didn't even have the courage to leave his room.
He was simply too old.
His body was as thin as kindling, and his hair had long since fallen out. His bald head was covered in dark brown age spots.
He looked like a piece of moldy, dried-out bread.
Just as Dondarrion had said, he couldn't even run.
"My Lord, let's hand over Tommen and Myrcella. That Northerner said he only wants those two Lannisters, and everyone else will be fine."
"But, but Queen Cersei trusts us so much—" Although he was on the verge of accepting the invaders' terms, Rosby's moral compass and will to survive were still at war.
"My Lord, at this point, they're going to die anyway once Stannis arrives." The one advising him was the Earl of Rosby's second wife.
She was only forty; she didn't want to die.
Ultimately, the old Earl agreed. At this moment, the only way to survive seemed to be to hand over Myrcella and her brother.
Aided by a servant, Giles put on the armor from his youth, but unfortunately, it no longer fit him well.
At first glance, it looked like a huge turtle shell draped over his body.
Not only did it not fit, but it also looked a bit comical.
Harken, standing beside Jon, let out an undisguised laugh.
Jon hadn't expended much effort in this siege.
Even if Giles hadn't surrendered, he could have taken this castle, the closest to King's Landing, in less than half an hour.
Jon's clothes weren't even dusty; there was only a little sweat on his forehead.
He approached Giles and comforted him, saying, "Ser Giles, you have fulfilled your mission. I will explain this to His Majesty Stannis."
For those who surrendered, offering some dignity at this point was equivalent to giving a promise, to prevent them from having any other ideas.
Although Giles was very old, he still had young people around him.
He couldn't get carried away and do anything out of line.
For example, even if Giles's wife was only forty or fifty, Jon couldn't harbor any thoughts, even if she were as beautiful as a fourteen or fifteen-year-old flower.
Otherwise, he would very likely pay a heavy price.
Jon's gesture reassured Giles considerably.
Yes, I have fulfilled my duty. What else do you Lannisters expect an old man to do?
"Ser, you are a Northerner, aren't you? May I ask where you are from?"
"Eddard Stark is my father. I am here to avenge him."
Giles was startled, his eyes wide as he carefully observed Jon, noticing his gray eyes and long face, as if he were carved from the same mold as Eddard.
"So it's Lord Robb."
Jon didn't bother to explain and directly stated that he wanted to see Tommen and Myrcella.
"Don't be afraid, Tommen. There are only some bandits here at most; they can't break into the castle."
Myrcella, not yet ten years old, comforted her chubby little brother in her arms.
But young Tommen was still not satisfied, shrinking into a little ball of flesh and burrowing deeper into his sister's embrace.
Unbeknownst to him, his sister was also trembling with fear; she was actually about the same age as Arya.
Myrcella, like her mother Cersei, had golden hair and a fair, delicate face.
But at this moment, her face was devoid of color. She looked like an extremely fragile porcelain doll.
Gradually, the sounds of fighting outside faded.
Myrcella wanted to get up and look out the window, but the little chubby Tommen held his sister tightly, not letting her go anywhere.
Myrcella's heart pounded, and her cheeks involuntarily began to tremble.
With a creak, the door opened. But it wasn't the familiar maid who cared for the siblings, nor the kind-faced knight.
The person opened the door but didn't come in, instead immediately backing out.
Myrcella only heard a sentence that made her feel as if she had fallen into an ice cellar: "My Lord, they are inside."
Myrcella straightened her back, hugging her chubby brother tightly.
Tommen secretly turned his head and saw only a group of strangers with a bloody aura about them.
Although those people didn't say a word, Tommen quickly turned his head back.
Myrcella realized that these people were definitely not good news.
She suddenly remembered the terrifying legends she had heard in the Red Keep.
Years ago, when her grandfather, Lord Tywin, stormed the Red Keep, the knight known as Gregor killed Elia and her two children.
They, too, were a brother and sister.
The sister was stabbed many times.
As for the brother, Gregor had directly smashed him against a wall, killing him!
Myrcella felt her entire body freeze, as if ice shards were flowing through her veins.
She buried her face in Tommen's body, tears flowing uncontrollably.
"My Lord, it's best if we kill them now. That way, we won't have to worry about Tyrell and Lannister continuing their alliance." Myrcella heard someone advising the so-called Lord, and her slender body trembled. Her chubby brother in her arms was even more frightened and began to cry loudly.
"No, are all you people so cruel? Killing even children?"
At this moment, Myrcella heard a dissenting voice, which gave her a glimmer of hope.
However, his next words sent a chill down Myrcella's spine. She heard that somewhat rough voice speak again: "The girl can be raised to have children, and the boy can be trained as a slave."
It was Harken speaking, but Jon ignored his suggestion and instead stared intently at the brother and sister before him.
Logically, his best option right now was to kill them.
This would eliminate future troubles.
But Jon remembered his return to Winterfell to serve Robb as a fighter. During the war, no knights were willing to follow him.
If he were to kill Myrcella and her brother, Stannis would certainly be pleased, but morally, he would become the next Mountain.
For Jon, who was to become a lord, this was unacceptable.
Moreover, if he killed them, Stannis would benefit, and he would suffer. Why do such a thankless thing?
Mond, seeing Jon hesitate, remembered Jon saving the bloodline of House Darry and avenging Raymon Darry, and so he spoke: "My Lord, if you cannot bring yourself to do it, let me."
Upon hearing Mond's words, Myrcella buried her head even lower, as if she could disappear on the spot.
Finally, she chose to pluck up her courage, raise her head, and say, "I, I beg you, don't kill, don't. I am the older sister. Will you kill me and let my brother go?"
Seeing Myrcella, at such a young age, pleading for her brother, everyone was somewhat moved.
Especially her pitiful, porcelain doll-like appearance. Even Mond, who had initially called for their deaths, ready to bear the infamy for Jon, felt a pang of reluctance.
Jon remembered that when Robert brought them to Winterfell, Myrcella and Robb had even caught each other's eye.
Jon ignored Myrcella's plea and instead turned to Mond, saying, "What are you talking about? In this situation, what's the difference if you kill them or I kill them?"
Jon had launched a mutiny at Harrenhal, and House Darry had already borne his mark. There was no difference between him doing it and Mond doing it.
Jon knew very well that if he didn't want to become the Mountain, the best thing was to hand them both over to Stannis completely intact.
So he walked up to Myrcella and said, "Princess, I am Eddard Stark's son. You should know that my father was killed by your brother, Joffrey. If you follow me obediently, I will only kill Joffrey and not you. Do you remember that?"
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