When the morning sun rose once more, by that time the streets and alleys of King's Landing were already plastered with notices.
There were two notices.
The first was an indictment notice: Grand Maester Orwyle, poisoning the king, colluding with Princess Rhaenyra to forge a will, conspiring in treason—by the Seven above, fortunately, their plot had been uncovered.
The second was a coronation notice: Aegon Targaryen the Second would formally ascend the throne tomorrow.
The notices bore the royal seal and the seal of the Small Council.
Officials from the city hall stood upon raised platforms, shouting out the contents to the illiterate smallfolk.
The crowd grew thicker and thicker, their murmurs buzzing like a hive.
"King Viserys was truly poisoned to death!?" an old fishmonger woman covered her mouth, her eyes full of terror.
A city official cleared his throat and shouted loudly, "Princess Rhaenyra was dissatisfied with His Grace King Viserys changing the succession. She conspired with Orwyle to poison the king. By the grace of the Seven, the plot has already been exposed!"
"They say it was Princess Rhaenyra…" a blacksmith's apprentice muttered in a low voice.
The fat baker beside him snorted. "Princess Rhaenyra is the Realm's Delight. How could that be possible?"
"Realm's Delight?" a sharp-faced woman curled her lip.
"She bore three bastards. Shameless."
"I said it long ago—what could a princess without shame possibly not do?"
"By the Seven, she ought to be cast into the seven hells!" a devout old man knelt on the ground, trembling as he traced a seven-pointed star.
"But the notice says a maester of the Citadel was also involved in the regicide?" someone questioned.
"The Faith supports Prince Aegon's ascension," another pointed toward the distant spires of the sept. "Yesterday I even saw the High Septon's carriage enter the Red Keep."
"Who knows… these are matters of the royal family…" a middle-aged man shook his head.
"We smallfolk should mind our own business."
Suddenly, a hoarse voice rang out from the crowd: "I have some inside news—His Grace was killed by his own son, Prince Aemond!"
The air froze instantly.
Everyone turned at once to look at the speaker—a ragged man with scars on his face.
The man seemed to realize he had misspoken and turned to squeeze his way out of the crowd.
"Who said that! Step forward!"
Captain Frey happened to be patrolling nearby. Hearing this, his expression changed sharply.
He pointed toward the crowd, and more than a dozen soldiers behind him quickly moved to surround them.
The crowd fell into dead silence.
Captain Frey urged his horse forward slowly into the crowd, the sound of his boots striking the stone road crisp and clear.
A smile hung on his face—but it was a smile like frozen ice.
"Slandering a prince, are you?"
"No one stepping forward, is that it?"
He reined in his horse and looked down at the dozens of smallfolk. "Then—cut out all their tongues!"
The crowd exploded in panic.
Behind him, dozens of soldiers drew their swords, forming a circle.
"Mercy, my lord! It wasn't us!"
"It was him, my lord! He spoke those treasonous words!" a scrawny tailor cried out, pointing at the vagrant trying to flee.
Frey nodded.
Two soldiers rushed over, seized the man like catching a chicken, and dragged him before the platform.
The vagrant struggled, shouting, "I only heard it from others—"
"Shut your filthy mouth!" Frey kicked him hard in the stomach.
The man curled on the ground, groaning in pain.
Frey stepped on his back and shouted to the crowd, "This man is a spy of the black faction of Rhaenyra, deliberately spreading rumors to slander the prince!"
"The one who murdered king and father is Princess Rhaenyra!"
He gave the soldiers a look. "Take his tongue!"
Two soldiers stepped forward.
They did not use a dagger, but the most direct and bloody method—a warning to the rest.
One pressed the vagrant's head down with his right hand and seized his jaw with his left. Another soldier yanked out his tongue. The one holding the head forced the jaw shut with brutal strength.
Crack!
"Ugh—!"
The man let out a piercing scream. Blood poured from his mouth. Half a tongue fell onto the stone pavement, still twitching slightly. The man was instantly on the verge of death.
Women screamed in the crowd; some covered their children's eyes.
Frey watched with satisfaction, his gaze sweeping over those nearby, now trembling in terror.
"Why did none of you report it at once?"
"Or are you all traitors as well?"
"My lord, we know nothing!"
"It was that bastard talking nonsense!"
"He just happened to be near us!"
"We were startled and didn't react in time, my lord!"
"Then that means you lack loyalty! That makes you accomplices of traitors!" Frey's eyes gleamed with calculation. There was always a bit of coin to squeeze from these smallfolk. He narrowed his eyes with a smile.
"Take them away. I will interrogate them personally."
The soldiers began making arrests.
One unfortunate merchant who had been standing close to the vagrant dropped to his knees before Captain Frey.
"My lord! I can talk!"
"I can be loyal too!"
"I have two gold dragons—I'm willing to atone!"
Captain Frey's eyes lit up.
"Bring him here. Take the others as well!"
Cries and pleas blended into one, but no one dared resist. At a street corner, several merchants who appeared well-off exchanged glances and quietly slipped into an alley.
"War may be coming," one whispered. "We need to start hoarding grain."
"The Vale's harvest was poor this year, and the Riverlands…" another shook his head. "Grain prices have already risen thirty percent."
"Then we buy from the Reach."
"As long as we have coin, there's always a way."
They hurried off, while the officials of the city hall continued their proclamations in the streets.
Captain Frey returned in high spirits—today had brought him quite a haul. His achievements were secured, and he had lined his pockets besides.
More than thirty suspects were shackled in chains, stumbling toward the city hall, beside which stood the largest prison in King's Landing.
Those with clear minds had already begun to act—rushing to buy grain, flour, salted meat, chickpeas.
Only those less clear-headed remained in taverns, still arguing.
"If you ask me, Princess Rhaenyra must have been framed!"
"Oh, come off it—a woman as king? It's never happened in the history of the Seven Kingdoms!"
"But the late king did name her as heir…"
"That was before! Didn't he change his mind later? The king has the right to change his will!"
"And besides, male primogeniture has been the law for a thousand years."
"Bah! You're so worked up—are you a noble yourself?"
"The Shepherd said that as long as one follows the Faith of the Seven and keeps to its morals, one may be born a noble in the next life…"
They argued, but none dared raise their voices.
There were even more patrols on the streets than yesterday, and their gazes were harsher still.
The people of King's Landing dared not cause trouble at such a time.
According to the orders passed down by the Master of Laws, Lyman—
This was a period of strict enforcement: small crimes became great crimes, great crimes became death.
In these days, the Night's Watch recruiters stationed in King's Landing had become exceedingly busy.
Upon the city walls, the former black banner with the red three-headed dragon had been replaced with the green faction's black banner bearing a golden three-headed dragon, snapping loudly in the morning wind.
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