webnovel
avataravatar

Chapter 206: Turmoil Underneath

Upon hearing the footsteps behind her, the woman remained still, only shifting her gaze slightly to the side.

Soon after, she returned her gaze forward.

Step by step...

Quickly.

A man, his face concealed by a black hooded cloak, entered the great hall.

Viserys' residence was under strict surveillance, and the inns and lodgings throughout Pentos were being searched.

No one expected Viserys to have his backup plan arranged within the Red Temple.

"The city is already in chaos," said Ramsay Snow, lifting his hooded head slightly to reveal a shadowy face.

His eyes were filled with undisguised desire as he looked up and down at the Red Priestess of R'hllor.

Melisandre, who was kneeling before the fire, remained silent for a while after hearing Ramsay's words. It seemed as though she was pondering something, her beautiful eyes fixed on the flickering flames.

It wasn't until Ramsay's outstretched hand was about to touch her cheek that she finally reacted.

"Ramsay Snow," Melisandre abruptly spoke.

In the vast, empty hall, the priestess's voice seemed ethereal and even echoed.

Ramsay's hand froze in mid-air.

He had a strong feeling that if he touched Melisandre's cheek, something terrible would happen.

Though the woman knelt before the fire with her back to him, her fragrance had already infiltrated his nostrils.

However, Ramsay felt an intense chill from the top of his head to his toes.

"You..."

A hint of disbelief flickered in Ramsay's eyes as he involuntarily took two steps back, but still stubbornly argued.

"Hmph, aren't the temple's offerings meant for..."

In the Red Temple of R'hllor, many abandoned orphans were taken in, who would grow up to become monks or temple prostitutes.

It was said that an ancient High Priest of R'hllor once proclaimed that during sexual climax, people could sense the divine, which is why the role of temple prostitutes existed.

However, many high-ranking R'hllor followers knew that it was merely a means to attract and strengthen their religious following.

For this reason, the term 'offering' was often tarnished in Essos.

Ramsay meant just that.

He didn't actually harbor any ill intentions, but he couldn't control his hand. He thought that both he and Melisandre were Viserys' dogs, and what difference did it make between dogs?

Yet Melisandre's expression remained unchanged, unprovoked by Ramsay's blatantly humiliating words.

Her eyes were still as calm as an ancient well, and then she spoke in an even tone.

"I saw your tragic end in the flames," she said.

"Ramsay."

"If you can't control your lower half and incite the wrath of the people, the prophecy will come true."

Melisandre's voice was indifferent, her red eyes flickering with fire as she continued to stare at the flames without turning her head. However, her words made Ramsay feel a shiver down his spine.

He didn't know if Melisandre had genuinely seen a prophecy about him in the flames or if she was simply trying to scare him.

Still, considering the ominous premonition he felt earlier, Ramsay decided to be more cautious from now on to avoid fulfilling the prophecy.

The young man with a gloomy face then straightened up and cleared his throat before speaking.

"The city is already in chaos, and for now, everything is going according to plan."

"Should we inform His Majesty about this so that he can be prepared?"

.

Melisandre sat quietly by the campfire, squinting her eyes slightly as she pondered for a moment before nodding.

"Very well."

"Have you completed all the tasks the true king entrusted to you?"

Upon hearing Melisandre's words, Ramsay's clean face immediately revealed a confident smile, his pearly white teeth bared.

"Of course."

...

In the prince's palace atop the highest hill in the city of Pentos.

Viserys sat on the top step of the circular hall, beside the Prince of Pentos, with Illyrio Mopatis, the Magister, on his left.

At this point, the banquet was more than halfway through, the wine had been poured three times and the dishes had been served five times. Aside from a minor conflict at the beginning, everything had been smooth sailing.

But beneath the surface, the undercurrents were still flowing subtly. Viserys noticed quite a few Magisters whispering among themselves and pointing at him.

And the servants of the Magisters were constantly coming in and out, reporting something.

In the palace corridors outside, a multitude of footsteps could be heard, almost completely drowned out by the sounds of the performances. If not for Viserys's extraordinary perception, he might not have noticed it.

Now, a jester was performing on the stage below. The sensual dance that had just occurred had come to an end.

He was a short dwarf with comical tattoos on his face. The jester was currently telling some not-so-funny, even somewhat vulgar jokes in an exaggerated and sharp tone.

Viserys felt drowsy, but the older Magisters seemed quite enthralled.

Underneath his black velvet robe, Viserys also wore scale armor, and at his waist was his sword, Dusk.

With one hand propping up his cheek, he looked down at the jester. The tattoos on the jester's face were said to be a custom in Volantis.

The people of Volantis liked to tattoo the faces of slaves, making it easier for them to identify who was a slave and who was a free citizen, and treat them accordingly.

Viserys didn't have any particular thoughts about this pitiful dwarf, as he didn't have the power to change the world, so there was no burden on his conscience.

The only person he would think of was the dwarf known as 'the Imp,' Tyrion Lannister.

Tyrion, a few years older than Viserys, should be around seventeen or eighteen by now. Although he was small in stature, his intelligence was astonishing.

If possible, Viserys quite wanted to meet the Imp and have a chat with him.

Unfortunately, the Targaryens and the Lannisters were mortal enemies, and the two were destined to be adversaries.

At least for now, it seemed that way.

Later on, the comical dwarf below seemed to be performing some kind of interactive program.

"Tsk tsk, I shall pick one from among you lords."

The dwarf's gaze then wandered and finally landed on Viserys, letting out a shrill cry, seemingly choosing him.

The young king, with one hand propping up his cheek, was a bit taken aback, not expecting the jester to pick him.

However, just as the jester approached him, a small paper ball silently fell out of his sleeve and landed at Viserys's feet.

"Hmm?"

Viserys's eyes narrowed slightly.

He then subtly turned his head left and right. What was this strong sense of familiarity?

Next, Viserys discreetly stepped on the small paper ball with his foot, unnoticed by the others.

When the jester finished his game and left, Viserys finally bent down to pick it up.

The silver-haired youth unfolded the paper ball and glanced at it for just a few moments before his eyebrows slightly raised.

"Hmm?"

Elsewhere.

Thump, thump, thump...

The jester's performance had not yet ended.

Suddenly, a soldier rushed in from outside. He leaned down and whispered a few words into a Magister's ear.

Immediately, the elderly Magister's face changed.

"What?"

Next chapter