In the parlor, golden copper bowls filled with rich butter mushroom oxtail soup dropped to the floor almost simultaneously, making a crisp clanging sound.
The creamy mushroom soup on a cold night was delicious, but also deadly.
The neurotoxin from the mushrooms would not react the moment it entered the human body; it only began to take effect once a lethal dose had already been ingested.
While not as potent as the Strangler or Tears of Lys, it was more than enough to deal with these people.
The servants' coughing echoed one after another.
The cook first desperately clutched her throat, but nothing came out, leaving only a terrifying, incredibly thin shriek.
"Thud!" The cook's body crashed to the floor, followed by the washerwoman, then the gatekeeper.
The chubby butler witnessed this scene of deathly silence, as the servants around him fell one by one.
He frantically pounded his chest, but it was useless. The butler felt his body turning to stone, starting with his heart, then his throat.
He clawed at his throat, but even drawing blood yielded no relief.
"It's you." The butler's eyes bulged, his skin turned pale, and then, with a look of horror, he raised a finger, pointing at Viserys, who was walking out of the sickroom.
"It is I. The killer, Viserys III Targaryen." Viserys nodded.
He had a clear understanding of the plot, so his actions were swift, precise, and ruthless.
The butler glared at Viserys powerlessly. It turned out that in this game, they had all been deceived by this young man.
They thought they were the mantis, but didn't realize they were merely prey.
The butler hated himself for acting too slowly, and for failing to see through Viserys's disguise.
They hadn't leaked any secrets, so how could this be? The exiled king's harmless demeanor had lulled them into a false sense of security.
The butler's body could no longer hold up and he too crashed to the floor, filled with unwillingness and greed for money.
But the potent mushroom poison violently stimulated his nerves and heart. The game was over.
Thus, all these servants were brought down by the poisoned mushroom soup.
Viserys looked at the chaotic scene in the parlor, his heart still pounding wildly.
His heart raced, his stomach churned, but he still needed to act as if nothing had happened.
In his previous life, even when he became the Beggar King, he only cursed and spoke obscenities; he had never actually killed anyone.
But in this life, in this dog-eat-dog world, he needed to be bold to survive.
Even if the risk was great, Viserys had to kill this group of people!
Once he lost Ser Willem's money, it meant he would truly be driven out of the Red House, left to wander with the two little ones.
But Viserys was only fourteen now and had no effective means of making a living.
To truly wander, begging from nobles and officials with his face, was not the life Viserys wanted.
Viserys didn't let Rhaenys and Daenerys come out; such a scene was too bloody.
The path of kings is paved with blood.
Viserys left the murder scene and returned to the sickroom.
Rhaenys and Daenerys had naturally heard the commotion in the parlor. Rhaenys was calm; she was part of this plan.
Daenerys, however, was still a bit dazed, unsure of what had happened.
In the sickroom, even a hazy Ser Willem Darry asked, "What was that sound? I heard... the horn of death."
"The servants died. It was the poison I chose…" Viserys said softly, holding Ser Willem's withered, dry hand.
Daenerys looked at her brother with some fear, not understanding why the seemingly gentle Viserys would suddenly act so ruthlessly.
Though young, Daenerys already understood the weight of death. In the past, Viserys (before the transmigration) had also told her that her mother died because of her birth.
"...Good... You are good, Your Majesty..." Ser Willem's previously half-blind eyes seemed to brighten in an instant.
Ser Willem knew Viserys very well, having watched him grow up.
In his final moments, Ser Willem grew increasingly pessimistic about the dream of restoration, though Viserys had always seemed eager to restore their rule.
But did this spoiled second son truly possess such courage and decisiveness? Rhaegar was dead; could this child be a match for the Usurper?
Ser Willem was also doubtful. His eyes were blind, and he had no more time to witness it.
"Take care of them... my... little princesses... I don't want to talk about... revenge anymore, I just hope you... live well. Stay far away... escape... the Iron Throne..." Ser Willem pointed to the bedside, where the money for the children's livelihood was hidden.
It was this money that triggered this bloody incident.
Viserys knelt by the bed, holding Ser Willem's hand until it completely lost its warmth.
After giving these last instructions, Ser Willem never woke up again.
Ser Willem Darry, master-at-arms of the Red Keep, tutor to two princes, was no more.
In this world, Viserys was the first to shoulder the heavy responsibility of restoring the Targaryen dynasty.
"Rest in peace, Ser Willem." Viserys said solemnly.
Wailing and sobbing filled the sickroom.
Daenerys cried the loudest, for she had never seen her parents, and in some sense, Ser Willem had played the role of her father.
After some time, the slightly taller Rhaenys got up and opened the bedside cabinet. Inside was money—Westerosi money, Braavosi money.
This money was stained with blood. To protect their wealth, Rhaenys had supported Viserys in poisoning the servants who wanted to steal from them and drive them out.
Besides the money, there was only a steel dagger in the cabinet.
Viserys also didn't find the agreement here, the pact signed by the Red Viper and Ser Willem.
Logically, that agreement should have been Ser Willem's most treasured possession.
At that time, Ser Willem Darry signed on behalf of the Viserys siblings; Prince Oberyn Martell signed on behalf of Dorne, witnessed by the former Sealord of Braavos.
Viserys meticulously checked, confirming that no such contract remained in the room.
"It seems you still had my best interests at heart, old knight." Viserys thought silently, that the agreement was destroyed to keep Viserys low-key.
Ser Willem Darry probably believed that if Viserys knew about such a marriage, given his past behavior, he would have long since sailed across the sea to seek refuge in Sunspear.
Other concerns were the attitudes of Sunspear and the Sealord. The former Sealord had died of illness, and the current Sealord had little interest in their venture.
And the Dornish had no power to overthrow Robert on their own, and to avoid suspicion, they offered no support whatsoever.
While Ser Willem lived with the children in Braavos, the Dornish, after signing the agreement, had seemingly vanished, like players gone AFK.
They also feared the Stag's warhammer, and the destruction of Dorne.
Viserys looked at Ser Willem's aged face on the bed: "I will not shy away from my war."
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