At this moment, inside the Iron Throne room, Viserys spoke heavily, "Ser Vaemond, you are accusing the heir to the Iron Throne!"
"It is precisely because she is the heir to the Iron Throne, Your Grace!" Vaemond did not retreat in the slightest.
"Her conduct is therefore all the more unforgivable!
"If even the Crown Princess may trample upon the blood of her vassals at will, if even a Targaryen may use bastards to usurp the inheritance of other houses at pleasure, then where is the lawful order of the Seven Kingdoms?
"Where is the dignity of the nobility?
"Your Grace, where is the justice under your rule?!"
"Evidence!" Viserys said sharply, striking the arm of the throne, only for a blade to cut his finger. Blood seeped out.
"If you make such grave accusations, you ought to present evidence!"
"Evidence?" Vaemond let out a cold laugh filled with grief and indignation.
He turned, spreading his arms to both sides: "My lords! My knights! Open your eyes and look!"
He pointed again at the three boys, his finger trembling with anger. "Silver hair and purple eyes—this is the clearest mark of Targaryen blood!"
"House Velaryon, though it too bears Valyrian blood, is likewise silver-haired, with blue or purple eyes!"
"I cannot help but ask—the Crown Princess has silver hair and purple eyes, her husband Laenor silver hair and blue eyes."
"But these three boys!"
He paused. Then his fury burst forth, his finger stabbing toward Jacaerys, Lucerys, and Joffrey: "Brown hair! Brown eyes! Flattened noses!"
"Where is there even the slightest trace of Velaryon or Targaryen in them?!"
"Blood does not lie!"
"This is plainly the look of House Strong!"
Whispers spread like a plague.
The eyes of the nobles shifted between Rhaenyra and the three boys—and the Master of Whisperers, Lord Larys.
And the Master of Whisperers, Larys Strong, stood in the shadow of a corner, watching all that transpired without expression.
His brother Harwin and his father had long since perished in a fire two years ago.
"I make my accusation!" Vaemond's voice was like thunder splitting the clouds. "Princess Rhaenyra lay with her sworn shield, Ser Harwin Strong, during her marriage!"
"The Strongs of Harrenhal bear this very look—brown hair, brown eyes, flattened noses!"
An even greater uproar arose. Some of the nobles could not help but study Larys's features. Indeed—brown hair, brown eyes, flattened nose…
Viserys struck the armrest again. "Enough! On looks alone, you dare slander the Crown Princess like this?!"
"Then what kind of evidence does Your Grace want?!" Vaemond had thrown caution to the wind. He stepped forward.
"For everything the Crown Princess has done, someone has always helped her clean it up, wipe her arse, and keep up that title of 'the Realm's Light.'"
"Am I supposed to catch them in bed?"
"Or have these three bastards admit with their own mouths that they are called Jacaerys Strong, Lucerys Strong, and Joffrey Strong?!"
Daemon moved.
Killing intent on his face.
"Old thing," His words made the whole hall fall silent in an instant.
"Say one more slanderous word against the royal house, and I'll cut out your tongue."
"Daemon!" Viserys barked, stopping him.
But Vaemond threw back his head and laughed loudly. "Come on then, Prince! Kill me with that sword of yours, Dark Sister!"
"Kill me before Your Grace, before the nobles of the Seven Kingdoms—kill this old man who is fighting for his house's blood!"
He faced the Iron Throne again: "Your Grace! You want evidence? Fine! Then I will give you evidence!"
"Laenor Velaryon—my brother Lord Corlys's only son, Driftmark's lawful heir—he likes men!"
"This is a fact known to everyone on Driftmark! From the wedding night onward, he never once shared a bed with Princess Rhaenyra!"
"There was never husband-and-wife truth between them!"
"The times these three children were born line up exactly with the period when Ser Harwin Strong served as Rhaenyra's sworn shield!"
"And after Ser Harwin Strong died under suspicious circumstances in the Harrenhal fire, Rhaenyra never bore another child!"
"Your Grace, if you do not believe me, summon Driftmark's maids, guards, and maesters to confront this in person!"
"You can check Laenor's medical records! You can ask anyone who knows the inside of it!"
Vaemond's voice was already hoarse, his eyes reddened, but he still roared: "My brother Corlys was wise all his life, yet in his old age he became muddled."
"To keep ties with the Iron Throne, he chose to acquiesce—chose to cover it up!"
"But I cannot! I, Vaemond Velaryon, cannot stand by and watch House Velaryon's thousand-year foundation fall into the hands of these baseborn whelps of unknown stock!"
His knees gave way, and he dropped straight down onto them.
Vaemond looked up at the king upon the Iron Throne, tears rolling from aged eyes: "Your Grace! I came here today for nothing but to speak the truth!"
"I know the fate of speaking these words! But I would rather die in the Red Keep than cling to life and watch the blood of House Velaryon defiled, watch the seahorse banner usurped by bastards!"
"If you deem defending my house's blood a crime!"
"Then pass sentence! Let my blood stain the floor of this throne room!"
"Let all the Seven Kingdoms see what becomes of those who speak the truth under Targaryen rule!"
Silence.
A long, suffocating silence.
The crackle of torches, whispers among the nobles, the sound of someone suppressing a cough.
Every small noise was magnified in that moment.
Hundreds of eyes fixed upon the Iron Throne, where Viserys sat rigid.
After a long while, the king finally spoke: "Ser Vaemond Velaryon… you are old. Grief and obstinacy have clouded your judgment."
He swallowed with difficulty.
"Jacaerys, Lucerys, Joffrey… their parentage was confirmed by me personally."
"Your accusations today… are founded upon rumor and conjecture. They are a grave slander upon the honor of the Crown Princess."
He paused, his gaze sweeping over the nobles on either side, carrying a warning.
"In consideration of your age and confusion, and in recognition that you were carried away in the name of your house's honor, misled by rumor…"
"If you withdraw your accusation and return to Driftmark, I shall deal with you leniently."
"Your Grace!" Vaemond suddenly lifted his head. The last trace of hope in his eyes died out completely, replaced by burning fury and despair.
"You… how long will you continue to show such partiality?!
"Can you not see?! Can you truly not see?!
"Or have you always seen—and merely chosen to pretend blindness?!"
"You—" Viserys upon the Iron Throne was enraged by Vaemond's outburst.
"Rhaenyra! Your precious daughter! She is a whore!"
"A shameless harlot!!!"
"She has trampled upon her marriage vows!"
"Trampled upon the law!
"Trampled upon the dignity of the nobility!"
Rhaenyra's expression finally changed. She rose to her feet, her swollen belly clearly visible beneath her gown. For the first time, anger appeared upon her face.
Alicent's lips curved upward, satisfaction stirring in her heart.
Aegon sat up straighter, respect in his eyes.
In all his life, he had never seen anyone so recklessly bold.
Helaena turned her head toward Aemond, and Aemond had already risen.
At this moment his attention was fixed entirely upon Daemon. The prince's hand had already settled upon his sword hilt, his body leaning slightly forward—the posture of a predator before the kill.
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