When Lo Quen landed in the center of the camp with the two of them, the reaction was immediate and explosive.
Sir Waymar Royce, Lord Gilwood Hunter, and the other Vale nobles rushed over at once. When they saw the unconscious Lady Lysa and the sleeping young Robert, shock and disbelief spread across every face.
"Your Grace… this…"
Waymar stammered, still struggling to process what he was seeing.
They had been racking their brains over how to take the Eyrie, and yet the King had gone alone, with a single dragon, and struck straight at its heart.
Lo Quen handed Lysa and young Robert over to the guards, then addressed the gathered nobles in an even tone.
"Littlefinger Petyr Baelish, who attempted to usurp control of the Vale, has been executed. Young Robert Arryn is the bastard son of Lady Lysa and Littlefinger. Both Lady Lysa and the child will be detained pending future judgment."
With those few sentences, he passed judgment on all three.
The Vale nobles were shaken to the core.
Looking into Lo Quen's calm, unfathomable dark eyes, they understood one thing clearly: the sky over the Vale had changed, completely and forever.
Sure enough, the next morning, when the garrison of the Eyrie discovered that all their masters had vanished without a trace, their will to resist collapsed instantly.
The gates of the main keep were opened slowly. The remaining defenders laid down their weapons and chose to surrender.
...
Lo Quen sat high upon the throne in the Eyrie's great hall.
Sunlight streamed through the crystal panes of the tall windows, casting shimmering beams of color across the chamber.
Nearly every important noble of the Vale was gathered there, the atmosphere heavy and solemn.
Lo Quen spoke.
"My lords, the Vale has been pacified. The chief instigator of the rebellion has been put to death. Now, tell me, are you willing to set aside past conflicts and swear your loyalty to me?"
The nobles exchanged glances, murmuring quietly among themselves.
Sir Waymar Royce did not hesitate for even a moment.
He strode forward, dropped to one knee, bowed his head, and declared in a clear, ringing voice, "Your Grace, House Royce of Runestone, along with all its vassals and soldiers, swears allegiance to you. From this day forward, and forevermore."
With someone taking the lead, nobles who already leaned toward House Royce, or who had long been dissatisfied with Baelish, followed suit and knelt to swear their oaths.
But not everyone was so quick.
Lady Anya Waynwood of Ironoaks stepped forward.
"Your Grace, we are grateful that you have removed the scourge that was Baelish from the Vale. However, allegiance is no trifling matter. It concerns the future fate of the Vale itself."
"The truth is now known to all. Robert Arryn is not the son of Great Lord Jon Arryn, but the bastard born of Lysa Tully and Petyr Baelish. He has therefore lost all rights of succession."
"As for the next in line, Ser Harold Hardyng… he unfortunately perished across the Narrow Sea several years ago. This is a matter Your Grace surely understands better than we do."
"At present, the direct bloodline of House Arryn at the Eyrie appears extinguished, leaving both the Eyrie and the lordship of the Vale vacant."
"Your Grace, how do you intend to dispose of this most important inheritance? Under your rule, who will become the Protector of the Vale, the Warden of the East, and the Great Lord of the Eyrie?"
Her words struck a chord.
Many nobles turned their eyes toward Lo Quen, waiting for his answer, an answer that would decide their final allegiance.
Lo Quen laughed softly to himself.
Harold Hardyng, the young knight known as the "Young Eagle King," had been captured by him years ago during the Battle of Bloodstone Isle across the Narrow Sea. Later, at Lo Quen's instruction, he had been officially declared "dead."
Naturally, this had all been part of his careful design, laid down long ago for this very moment.
That so-called Young Eagle King was probably still rotting away in the dark dungeons of Conquest Keep.
A gentle smile appeared on his face.
"Lady Waynwood raises a fair point. The question of House Arryn's bloodline is indeed a thorny one. Since the direct line appears to have been cut off, and since I, as the conqueror and the new King, possess the authority to reassign fiefs, I do have a proposal…"
He paused, his gaze sweeping across the hall.
"Let one of the children born to Queen Sansa Stark and myself inherit the title of Great Lord of the Eyrie and the office of Warden of the East. Until the child comes of age and can rule in their own right, the loyal and battle-tested Ser Waymar Royce shall temporarily serve as both Warden of the East and Protector of the Vale, overseeing the affairs of the Vale."
The moment his words fell, the entire hall was thrown into uproar.
A wave of sharp, involuntary gasps rippled through the chamber.
Lord Gilwood Hunter immediately stepped forward in protest, his voice heated with emotion.
"Your Grace, this violates the laws of succession! House Arryn still has many cadet branches in the Vale. Though their blood may be distant, it is still Arryn blood. The Eyrie should be inherited by someone of Arryn descent. How can it be entrusted to Stark blood? Even if Queen Sansa is Lady Lysa's niece, this is simply—"
The smile vanished from Lo Quen's face in an instant.
He cut Lord Hunter off coldly.
"The laws of succession? Lord Hunter, tell me, where were your laws when Baelish seized power? Where was this Arryn bloodline when the Vale fell into chaos?"
His gaze sharpened, sweeping over Hunter and every noble who still showed defiance.
"The Eyrie stands today because I rode my dragon and took it back from traitors. The army under Ser Waymar was mine to lend. The fall of the Gates of the Moon and the siege of the Eyrie itself were achieved through my strength and Ser Waymar's hard fighting. Those so-called Arryn branches contributed nothing at all. By what right do they now claim the spoils of victory? By virtue of a scrap of blood that amounts to nothing?
"Furthermore, Sansa is Lady Lysa Tully's niece and carries the blood of House Tully. Her father, Eddard Stark, was the foster son of Jon Arryn, bound to him as close as father and son. By that measure, my child inheriting the Vale is not without legal grounding. And more importantly, I sit here as the conqueror. My decision is the law."
Lord Hunter's face flushed red, his lips trembling.
"This… Your Grace, I…"
He tried to argue further, but every word died in his throat, rendered weak and meaningless in the face of Lo Quen's authority and logic.
At that moment, Waymar Royce immediately spoke up in support.
"Your Grace, for a child of Queen Sansa, bearing the noble blood of both Stark and Tully, to inherit the Vale, with governance entrusted to those you trust, is the most fitting arrangement imaginable. Runestone gives its full support!"
Lady Waynwood took in the scene before her, then looked to the King on the throne, his dark eyes gleaming with absolute authority. She let out a long, quiet sigh.
She knew the tide had turned. Resistance would bring nothing but ruin.
She slowly bent her knee.
"Your Grace, House Waynwood of Ironoaks also agrees with your decision. May the Vale find peace and prosperity under its new rule."
With Lady Waynwood yielding, the remaining nobles who had still been wavering, including House Redfort and others, quickly bowed as well, voicing their assent.
Gilwood Hunter stood alone, his face ashen. He opened his mouth, then closed it again, and in the end could only bow his head in bitter resignation, signaling his submission.
With the matter of the Vale settled, Lo Quen ordered the army to rest and regroup, to await the arrival of the forces led by Roro before marching south together to confront Young Aegon.
The Vale nobles raised little objection to this.
Jon Connington's burning of Stoney Sept and the slaughter of its civilians had already spread throughout the Seven Kingdoms, and the persistent rumors surrounding Young Aegon's questionable "Blackfyre" lineage had earned him the deep disdain of the honor-bound Vale lords.
That night, in the study of the Eyrie, Lo Quen read the latest intelligence delivered by ravens from across the Narrow Sea.
His spymaster, Meizo, sent compiled reports on the state of Westeros every few days.
According to the intelligence, Young Aegon's allied main force was still operating in the Riverlands and the Crownlands, hunting down scattered yet stubborn remnants of the Westerlands army.
Those remnants were chiefly led by Addam Marbrand and Damion.
Though these Westerlanders may already have heard of the Ironborn ravaging the Westerlands and the fall of Casterly Rock, they were trapped deep behind enemy lines, cut off from their homeland and unable to return, forced instead into grueling guerrilla warfare against Jon Connington and Harry Strickland, commander of the Golden Company.
However, when Lo Quen reached the section concerning Dorne, a sharp glint flashed in his eyes.
The report detailed a fierce argument involving Prince Quentyn Martell, sparked by his outrage over Young Aegon's reckless assault on Duskendale that led to Oberyn's death, as well as the spreading Blackfyre rumors. The quarrel had grown so heated that swords had nearly been drawn.
After a brief moment of thought, a scheme to sow discord took shape in Lo Quen's mind.
He immediately spread out a sheet of parchment and swiftly penned a secret letter to Meizo.
...
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