In Tyrosh, on the training grounds.
It was afternoon. Five hundred Velaryon soldiers stationed behind in the city stood in neat formation across the field.
They wore ordinary clothes rather than armor, and none of them carried weapons.
Every face was filled with anticipation.
Word had spread that the prince was handing out rewards. That was good news.
After being stationed in Tyrosh for so long, they were finally getting a little extra coin.
"I heard everyone's getting ten silver stags?"
"More than that. I heard the deputy commander said twenty."
"Now that's good. I can finally save enough to buy my new wife a dress."
In order to keep these men loyal, Prince Lucerys had previously allowed the garrison troops to forcibly take Tyroshi common women as wives.
After all, Lucerys knew that some of the soldiers' families had already been taken hostage by the Greens.
Morale throughout the army had sunk dangerously low, leaving him no choice but to issue such an order.
At that moment, the Velaryon garrison chatted quietly among themselves, smiles spread across their faces.
Around the edges of the training grounds, more people had appeared at some point.
They were Tyrosh's newly recruited army—two thousand former Tyroshi soldiers, fully armed and clad in gleaming armor, spears and swords in hand.
Some of the Velaryon soldiers looked at them in confusion.
By now, those troops had already formed ranks around the entire training grounds, sealing it off so tightly that not even water could leak through.
"These Tyroshi? What are they doing here?" someone asked in confusion.
"Probably here to keep order?"
"They're handing out rewards, after all. Someone has to watch things."
"True enough."
The soldiers did not think much of it and continued waiting.
Aemon stood atop the raised platform at the edge of the grounds, his face pale and drenched in cold sweat. Behind him, the six bastards stared at him with hostile eyes.
Several Tyroshi messengers stood in front of him, awaiting his command.
"My lord," one messenger asked cautiously, "when do we begin?"
Aemon opened his mouth, but no words came out.
He knew that the moment he gave the order, those fully armed soldiers would storm the field and slaughter every unarmed Velaryon soldier present.
Five hundred lives.
All resting in his hands.
And if he refused to obey, his wife and children would become corpses as well.
Aemon closed his eyes and drew a deep breath.
Then he opened them again and slowly raised his hand.
"Do it."
The messenger lifted a war horn and sounded the signal to attack.
WOOOO—
The horn echoed across the training grounds.
The Velaryon soldiers still stood there in confusion, not understanding what was happening.
Then they saw the soldiers surrounding the field begin to move.
The fully armed troops advanced in disciplined formation, step by step toward the center of the grounds.
Their spears leveled forward, swords drawn, shields raised high like a moving wall of iron.
"W-What is this?"
"Something's wrong!"
"Run!"
But it was already too late.
The first row of spears thrust forward, and more than a dozen men fell instantly.
Only then did the screams erupt.
"They're killing us!"
"Run!"
"Why?! Why?!"
"Why are you doing this to us?!"
"Symond and Aemon, you bastards!"
Five hundred unarmed soldiers stood against thousands of fully armed Tyroshi troops. They had no chance whatsoever to resist.
They scattered in every direction trying to flee, but the entire field was surrounded. There was nowhere to escape.
Some fell to their knees and begged for mercy, but the soldiers carrying out the orders showed no hesitation, killing them one spear thrust at a time.
Blood dyed the training grounds red.
Corpses piled into heaps.
Screams, wails, and desperate pleas blended together into a symphony from hell itself.
One young soldier collapsed to his knees, clutching the body of a dead comrade as he burst into sobs.
"Why? What did we do wrong? We're on the same side!"
A Tyroshi soldier walked over expressionlessly and drove a spear straight through his chest.
Another soldier tried climbing over the wall to escape, only to be caught by several local troops and stabbed to death in a frenzy.
There was also an officer-like man who shouted while running, "I'm one of House Velaryon's men! I serve Lord Corlys!"
"You can't kill me!"
Before he could finish speaking, a sword chopped off his head.
Aemon stood atop the platform, trembling as he watched everything unfold.
He knew there was no turning back for him now. He had helped Hugh carry out the coup...
The looks in those soldiers' eyes before they died cut into his heart like knives.
Even at the moment of death, they still could not understand why their own people had suddenly turned on them.
The slaughter lasted for a full quarter of an hour.
By the time the last Velaryon soldier fell, blood flowed across the training grounds like a river.
Five hundred corpses lay scattered everywhere, while the thick stench of blood filled the air so heavily it made people nauseous.
Among the Tyroshi soldiers carrying out the massacre, some remained expressionless, some had gone pale, and some could no longer hold back their vomiting.
The Tyroshi troops only knew one thing: Aemon had told them this was a direct order personally issued by Prince Lucerys.
That these men had betrayed Queen Rhaenyra.
Meanwhile, Lucerys Velaryon was inside his chambers, chatting with Baela Targaryen and Rhaena Targaryen.
Baela was twelve years old this year. She was the daughter of Daemon Targaryen and Rhaenyra Targaryen, and also Lucerys's betrothed.
She had inherited her mother Laena's beauty—silver hair, violet eyes, and a sweet smile.
Rhaena, Baela's younger sister. She had the same silver hair and violet eyes, but her temperament was gentler than her younger sister's.
"Luke," Rhaena said as she leaned against the windowsill, gazing at the scenery outside, "when do you think my father will come pick us up?"
Lucerys smiled faintly. On his burned face, the expression looked somewhat unsettling.
"Once the war is over, Uncle Daemon will come for you."
"When will the war end?"
"Soon."
"Then, Luke… will you still marry my sister?"
Lucerys froze for a moment and turned to look at Baela.
Baela's face immediately turned red, and she lowered her head without speaking. Even though Luke had been disfigured, their feelings over all these years were still there.
"Of course I will," Lucerys said. "Once the war is over, we'll be formally betrothed."
Rhaena clapped happily.
"That's wonderful! Then I'll be the bridesmaid!"
Baela's face grew even redder.
At that moment, hurried footsteps suddenly echoed from outside the room.
A servant rushed in, pale as death.
"Your Highness! Something terrible has happened! Someone's attacking the castle!"
Lucerys shot to his feet.
"What?!"
But before he could react further, the door was kicked open.
Hugh stormed in with more than a dozen blood-covered bastards behind him.
They all carried swords, and blood still dripped from the blades.
Lucerys's gaze passed over them and looked toward the corridor outside.
Several corpses lay sprawled across the hallway—the two dozen bastard guards left behind to defend the castle, all loyal to him.
"My knight, Hugh," Lucerys asked in utter disbelief, "what are you doing?"
Hugh walked over to him, knelt on one knee, and lowered his head respectfully, as though nothing had happened at all.
"Your Highness, the Velaryon garrison colluded with the Volantenes and attempted to betray the queen and Your Highness. I have already exterminated the rebels."
Lucerys stared at him speechlessly for a moment.
The Velaryon garrison? Ser Symond?
Those were all men personally chosen by Grandfather Corlys. How could they possibly betray them?
Only then did Lucerys finally realize what was happening. He pointed at Hugh, his voice trembling.
"You… you're rebelling?"
Hugh raised his head, his expression unchanged.
"Your Highness misunderstands."
"I had no choice but to do this in order to protect Your Highness."
"Protect me?" Lucerys laughed in fury.
"You slaughtered my men, and you call that protecting me?"
"They were traitors," Hugh said calmly.
"Bullshit!" Lucerys roared. "Ser Symond served my grandfather for decades! How could he betray us?"
"And those soldiers? How could they betray us?!"
Hugh said nothing.
Lucerys stared at him—at that emotionless face, at those utterly unmoving eyes.
This was a coup.
"Hugh," Lucerys said through clenched teeth, "I was the one who elevated you."
"I gave you noble status. I made you a knight. I put you in command of the castle."
"And this is how you repay me?"
Hugh rose to his feet and brushed the dust from his knees.
"I remember Your Highness's kindness well."
"But Your Highness… you are too young."
"You do not understand how cruel this world truly is."
"Did you really think those Velaryons were loyal to you?"
"I removed a hidden danger for you. You should be thanking me instead."
"Thanking you?" Lucerys trembled with rage as he looked at the shameless Hugh.
"You murdered my men, and you expect my gratitude?"
Hugh looked at Prince Lucerys, and a trace of pity flashed through his eyes.
The pity of a victor looking down upon a loser.
"Your Highness," he said, "you should simply rest well. Leave the matters outside to me."
He waved a hand.
Several bastards stepped forward and restrained Lucerys.
"Let me go!" Lucerys struggled furiously. "You traitors! You'll all burn in the seven hells!"
Baela and Rhaena had been completely terrified by the sudden turn of events.
Baela clung tightly to her sister, glaring at them in fury, unable to speak.
Meanwhile, Rhaena had already begun crying.
Hugh glanced at the two girls and spoke in a deep voice to the bastards beside him.
"Escort the two princesses to the room next door. Make sure they are properly attended to."
"No one is allowed to harm them."
"Yes, sir."
The two girls were led away.
Rhaena's sobbing gradually faded into the distance before disappearing entirely at the end of the corridor.
Lucerys was pinned down beside the bed by the bastards. He lifted his head and glared at Hugh.
His eyes burned with fury, but that fury meant nothing now.
"Hugh," he said word by word, "you will regret this."
"My grandfather will kill you."
"Prince Daemon will kill you."
"My mother will carve you into a thousand pieces."
Hugh smiled faintly.
"Perhaps. But Your Highness… have you ever considered where you'll be when they come to kill me?"
Lucerys froze.
Hugh crouched down until they were eye level.
"Your Highness, you are in my hands now."
"The two princesses are also in my hands."
"Tell me… do you think the Blacks would dare touch me?"
Lucerys could not answer.
Hugh patted his face lightly, then rose to his feet and spoke to the men beside him.
"Watch His Highness carefully."
"If anything goes wrong, you know the consequences."
"Yes."
Hugh turned and left, his footsteps gradually fading down the corridor.
Lucerys was filled with regret.
Why had he ever elevated these bastards?
Now those bastards had betrayed the Blacks.
Betrayed him.
And betrayed his mother as well.
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