Watching Daenerys Targaryen triumphantly pull Sansa Stark away, that look of impending victory made Viserys Targaryen not know whether to laugh or cry.
After the two left, Viserys Targaryen finally calmed down, his expression solemn as he lifted his covers.
He was also curious, who exactly wanted to challenge his weakness?
Whose trick was all this?
Master of Whisperers Varys?
Littlefinger?
Viserys Targaryen's fingers suddenly tightened, gripping the soft, silky brocade on his body.
The next moment, he pulled it back forcefully.
Time seemed to freeze completely at that moment.
The scene before him caught even Viserys Targaryen off guard.
Golden hair, like flowing sunlight, spilled across his dark bedsheets.
Beneath the covers, Myrcella Baratheon was curled up, like a fawn driven by wind and rain, mistakenly entering a beast's den.
She was only wearing a thin, torn silk nightgown, its straps loose, revealing large expanses of dazzling white skin and delicate, fragile collarbones.
She looked up, her Tyrell-unique green eyes filled with terror and grievance, tears seeming ready to burst forth at the slightest touch.
"You..."
Viserys Targaryen's voice caught in his throat.
This was not any of the noble girls he had anticipated.
"Tyrion Waters!"
Viserys Targaryen frowned.
Rage, mixed with an indescribable tremor, instantly surged to his head.
Considering he was King Aerys Targaryen's bastard, he had been given a Dragon Guard position out of leniency.
He never expected this little dwarf to push his luck, infiltrating his schemes even into The Red Keep.
"Varys, how dare you!"
Viserys Targaryen immediately thought of him.
Without his help, Imp could never have accomplished this.
Just as he was filled with anger, about to loudly rebuke these sycophantic officials, a clear yet unfamiliar set of footsteps suddenly echoed from the corridor outside the door.
Damn it!
Before his brain could fully process it, Viserys Targaryen's body had already moved.
The panic of being caught in the act made Viserys Targaryen instinctively try to conceal it.
The next moment, he almost roughly re-buried the bright-haired girl into darkness, covering her tightly with the brocade quilt.
Viserys Targaryen's movements were so hasty they carried a hint of clumsiness.
He could feel the girl in the bed shiver violently from fright, then stiffen like a stone, even desperately holding her faint breath.
Almost at the same moment he smoothed out the wrinkles in the quilt, the door was gently pushed open.
Margaery Tyrell stood cautiously at the doorway, looking around.
Although the candlestick in her hand was as steady as a rock, the flickering flame in her palm already betrayed her inner tension.
When she realized Viserys Targaryen was looking at her, her gaze naturally fell on the slightly raised bed behind him.
Little Rose's lips slowly curved into an understanding smile.
She was, of course, well aware of the news that Sansa Stark had just been taken away by Princess Daenerys Targaryen.
She was confident that the Dragon King, currently in high spirits, needed an attentive queen to soothe him, and now, it was her moment, this rose's time to bloom.
"Am I... disturbing His Majesty's sweet dreams?"
Little Rose teased.
Her voice held a hint of curiosity, her tone rising slightly, tickling one's heart.
Viserys Targaryen froze in place, a thin layer of sweat instantly breaking out on his back.
He hadn't expected to be such a hot commodity now!
Two maidens, one hidden in the dark, trembling with fear; the other standing in the light, cleverly pressing closer.
And he, Viserys Targaryen, was perfectly caught in the middle.
Viserys Targaryen opened his mouth, but dared not make a sound.
Light cast flickering shadows on the walls, Margaery Tyrell stood outside the door, her body beneath the silk nightgown feeling slightly warm.
She also hadn't expected Viserys Targaryen to remain frozen, speechless, in the face of her, this rose's, temptation.
Margaery Tyrell counted her heartbeats, repeating the carefully prepared arguments in her mind over and over.
The door hinge let out a faint groan, and Little Rose finally couldn't hold on any longer.
Margaery Tyrell actively stepped closer, her fingertips tracing the carved bedpost.
"I think we can talk, about The Reach, about how to make those who fear you adore you."
Though Little Rose spoke clearly, her words were filled with various temptations.
"House Tyrell has always been a strong supporter of the iron throne, a wealthy lord who can solve most of the new dynasty's troubles for you!"
She gently leaned against the edge of the bed.
"You do not lack military might, but you only lack the adoration of the common people!"
"Isn't this the most perfect combination?"
The next moment, Margaery Tyrell pulled hard, her long dress falling to the floor, revealing her almost perfect, delicate body.
Clearly, this was the moment she had painstakingly waited for.
She placed one hand on the velvet quilt and the other on Viserys Targaryen's chest, her eyes alluring: "Am I not beautiful enough?"
Just then, the smile on Margaery Tyrell's face instantly froze.
She stared in disbelief as she pulled back the covers, and the next second, all her reason, all her carefully constructed schemes, completely shattered.
Myrcella Baratheon, the girl who should have been locked in a cell awaiting trial, was now, before her, sitting on Viserys Targaryen's bed.
Time seemed to stand still at this moment.
Margaery Tyrell stood there, the silk quilt in her hands heavy as a mountain.
At this point, she didn't know whether to cover it back up or pull it off completely.
"Gulp!"
She swallowed hard, trying to compose herself.
The next moment, she steeled herself, directly flipped over, and leaned into Viserys Targaryen's arms: "Your Majesty, perhaps I've come at just the right time!"
Hearing this, Viserys Targaryen stood frozen in place, his pupils constricted.
He, of course, knew the story of "Margaery, the thrice-married virgin."
No matter who became king in the future, she had to be the queen!
But this was not the main stage for House Tyrell's power plays; this was the realm of the Targaryen Dragonlords!
"Get down!"
Viserys Targaryen's patience finally reached its limit!
He wanted to completely crush the unrealistic hopes of these noble girls!
However, Margaery Tyrell paid no attention whatsoever: "Your Majesty, I don't mind if we're together! A king shouldn't have only one woman anyway!"
Before she could finish, just then, "Thump, thump, thump," a new set of footsteps appeared in Viserys Targaryen's ears.
Someone else was coming down the corridor outside!