She reached out and stroked the cold throne beneath her, forged from countless sharp swords and symbolizing the power of the Seven Kingdoms, feeling the protruding blades upon it.
With an inadvertent exertion of force, a spike sliced through her fingertip; blood seeped out and dripped onto the pitch-black Iron Throne, creating a startling splash of crimson.
Shortly after The Hound and the others departed, the doors were pushed open once more.
However, those entering this time were not the forces of House Lannister, but the commander of the Valyrian Imperial Army, Lord Connington, followed by fully armed soldiers of the Golden Company.
His expression remained blank as he entered and looked at Cersei, who was laughing while sitting upon the Iron Throne.
"Cersei Lannister." Lord Connington's voice was steady and cold, though the aura he radiated still betrayed the excitement of his current mood. He said, "His Majesty Viserys has taken Red Keep; King's Landing now belongs to the Targaryens. Give up your pointless resistance and come with us."
Cersei's laughter stopped abruptly. She slowly raised her head, those emerald eyes that were once full of pride and calculation now bloodshot with crimson and filled with a look of unreconciled madness.
She stared fixedly at the entering Connington and spoke, "You are that useless hand of the king exiled overseas by The Mad King, the Lord of Griffin's Roost, Jon Connington? I remember you. I didn't expect that you've stopped being Rhaegar's lapdog only to start being Viserys's."
Connington ignored her mockery and waved his hand. The soldiers behind him stepped forward, intending to drag Cersei down from the Iron Throne.
She stood up from the Iron Throne and shouted sharply, "You want me to go with you? Where? To see that Targaryen incestuous bastard? I am the Queen Regent of the Seven Kingdoms, the roaring lion of House Lannister. You traitors can forget about making me yield!"
As Cersei watched the soldiers closing in, feeling the murderous intent radiating from them and hearing the cheers of the victors and the roars of dragons from outside the hall, she knew in her heart that it was all over.
Her kingdom, her power, and her pride had all vanished like bubbles today. As a daughter of Casterly Rock and Queen Regent of the Seven Kingdoms, she had ultimately failed to hold onto everything. She was still trying to struggle at the end, but it was futile.
The soldiers expressionlessly grabbed Cersei's arms and forcibly dragged her down from the Iron Throne. During the struggle, Cersei's robes were torn by the sharp blades of the throne, leaving several long gashes, much like her now shattered dignity.
She was roughly pressed onto the cold stone floor; the once high-and-mighty Queen Regent now looked like a stray dog. However, the cold also caused the madness in her eyes to gradually fade, replaced by a near-abnormal calm.
She looked around this hall that once symbolized her grasp on power, finally fixing her gaze on Lord Connington. Her tone sounded relatively calm now as she spoke, "I, Cersei Lannister, will never kneel to anyone."
Having said that, she straightened her back, and though her face was still somewhat pale, she still strove to maintain her final dignity as she slowly stood up from the ground.
Lord Connington glanced at her and signaled the soldiers to step forward, calmly ordering, "Take her away quickly."
Someone stepped forward and used a rope they had brought to bind Cersei's hands behind her back. Cersei did not resist; she simply held her head high like a queen heading to the execution ground as she was escorted out of the Great Hall of Red Keep.
Connington stood where he was, his gaze returning from the direction where Cersei had disappeared. He then scanned the Iron Throne stained with Cersei's blood, a look of intense emotion flashing in his eyes.
This throne, symbolizing the power over the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros, had witnessed the ambitions of countless people; now, it was about to welcome back its true master.
Connington took a deep breath, suppressing the surging emotions in his heart, and turned to stride out of the hall. He had to rush to report back to His Majesty Viserys.
Outside Red Keep at this moment, Targaryen soldiers were systematically taking control of the situation and clearing out the remaining pockets of resistance in the city. On the streets, the once-roaring lion banners of Lannister were trampled underfoot, replaced by the black banners of the House Targaryen with the three-headed red dragon fluttering in the wind.
Meanwhile, deep in the cellars of Red Keep, the three children—Joffrey, Tommen, and Myrcella—were huddled in a corner, trembling. They were hiding here along with some Lannister women and children who had remained in King's Landing.
The cellar was dark and damp, with only a few flickering torches providing weak light, casting their fearful shadows onto the cold surrounding walls.
Suddenly, a series of heavy footsteps came from the entrance of the cellar. Joffrey's heart leaped into his throat as he looked at the thick wooden door in terror.
He heard the footsteps outside getting closer and heard someone shouting, "Search every corner." He wanted to run, but his legs were so weak he couldn't even stand up.
Before long, the door was pushed open, and several soldiers wearing Golden Company standard armor walked in, their armor gleaming brightly under the torchlight.
"Found them," a soldier shouted to the outside, his voice sounding exceptionally clear in the empty cellar. Soon, more and more soldiers gathered around.
They first worked together to deal with the few Lannister guards in the room, as well as the two white-cloaked knights by Joffrey's side, Meryn Trant and Mandon Moore.
The other few white cloaks had already been assigned to help command the army on the walls of Red Keep and had likely already died on the battlefield, leaving only these two who were only good at flattery.
Although the combat prowess of these two was higher than that of ordinary men, the Golden Company had superior numbers, and they simply could not hold them back. Furthermore, they were not the kind of White Knights who could truly uphold their vows, so after the surrounding Lannister soldiers were all dead, they laid down their weapons and surrendered.
In their view, not a single one of the Lannisters or Baratheons in the cellar would survive. No one would ever spread the word of them voluntarily kneeling and surrendering.
As members of the Kingsguard, they believed they were surely important talents that Viserys would need now. Just as Robert had spared Ser Barristan years ago, and Barristan had then chosen to pledge fealty to Robert and became the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard.
Viserys would also pardon their crimes, and they would then become Viserys's Kingsguard. Or, at the very least, Viserys might consider the families they represented and choose to spare them to win over their houses.
Therefore, losing a little face now was nothing; as long as they could survive, nothing else mattered.
Ãdvåñçé çhàptêr àvàilàble óñ pàtreøn luffy1898