-Chapter 39-
-POV Viserys Targaryen-
As soon as Gunthor Royce returned to the royal box, I sensed that something bad was brewing, for judging by his cloak, someone had either died or been gravely injured.
'And judging by the satisfied look on Aemon's face, he surely knows who it is,' I thought.
A few minutes passed without anything ruining my tournament, and just as I was about to relax, letting my concerns fade into the back of my overly cautious mind, Rhaenyra gasped in shock while clutching her friend Jessamyn Redfort, who was in tears.
"What's wrong with you, Aemon?!!" Rhaenyra shouted, rising from her seat, furious.
Aemon said nothing and continued watching the joust as if he hadn't heard Rhaenyra addressing him.
'This is a blatant show of disrespect to the crown, and especially to me,' I thought, feeling a deep sense of irritation toward my nephew.
"The princess Rhaenyra asked you a question," said my Hand in an authoritative tone.
Aemon smiled and turned toward us, placing a hand under his chin, and said:
"I didn't hear any question from my cousin unless the angry little girl's scream I just heard was made by our dear delight of the realm."
'He's openly mocking us; this has to stop,' I told myself, gripping the edges of my throne tightly.
"You had Jessamyn's brother assassinated simply for an innocent remark?!" Rhaenyra screamed, outraged.
"Jessamyn… Hmm, I wasn't aware that you were so close to Jeyne's handmaiden," Aemon said, lightly sidestepping the remark.
"Young Redfort is well-known in the Vale for her talents. It seems the court has had the chance to… sample them," said Arnold Arryn, standing behind Aemon with a mocking grin.
"Watch your tongue, Arnold. You're speaking to my cousin. Such matters are part of the Princess's private life," Aemon said in an authoritative tone to his knight, who lowered his head, not the least bit bothered by his master's public reprimand.
'And how could he be? Aemon just saved him from immediate execution.'
I turned my head as I heard the nobles begin to whisper about Rhaenyra's affairs. In just a few sentences, this demon had turned the situation against Rhaenyra, and everyone had forgotten about the dead heir of House Redfort in favor of a scandal that could cost Rhaenyra the throne.
'As if it wasn't enough that rumors about Laenor Velaryon's preferences appeared as if by magic, now Aemon is trying to mislead the court about Rhaenyra's inclinations,' I thought, watching Rhaenyra, whose face was red with shame as some of the ladies behind their fans laughed at her.
I could even hear some of the men saying:
"That's why she was so determined not to marry."
"Aemon, your king orders you to provide an explanation that satisfies me, or I will be forced to punish you."
Aemon smiled slightly, not taking me seriously, and just when I thought I would have to use force, he said:
"You all accuse me of participating in this so-called murder, but I haven't left the royal box. You are the first witness of that... Your Majesty."
'He's not wrong.'
"Gunthor Royce killed him. Ser Harwin can testify to that; he saw it with his own eyes."
"Ser Harwin, your champion? What an irrefutable piece of evidence," Aemon said mockingly.
"Aemon," Daemon said seriously, silently ordering his son to behave.
Aemon straightened up and said, "Whether Gunthor really killed that little Redfort runt or not has nothing to do with me."
"He's your knight; you're responsible for his actions," Rhaenyra said loudly enough for all to hear.
Many nodded in agreement with her, but Aemon, as usual, showed no sign of panic and calmly replied:
"Responsible, maybe, but not the one giving orders for all his actions. Gunthor swore loyalty to me, but he's not my slave. Those are two entirely different things—unless, of course, that's how you see your subjects, dear cousin. Do you think we're your slaves, bound to obey your every whim?"
Rhaenyra, cornered, looked at all the people expecting answers from her without knowing what to say, so I intervened and said, "Don't change the subject."
Aemon raised his arms and said, "Ask your questions to the person involved. Don't drag me into these pathetic attempts by a spoiled child to get her father's attention. My uncle, you know perfectly well that if I had wanted someone dead, I wouldn't have done it in such a way—it's amateurish."
I locked eyes with Daemon, and silently, we came to an agreement in a matter of seconds: he's still on my side, but he won't abandon his son.
"Ser Gunthor, what do you have to say?"
"Nothing more than what I've already told your City Watch commander, who rendered justice in your name at the time," Gunthor Royce said calmly.
Surprised, I turned to Ser Harwin, as did Rhaenyra, who stared at her champion, astonished, and the next words that came out of my Hand's heir's mouth made me want to slap Rhaenyra more than ever before:
"Forgive me, princess, but what I was trying to tell you is that Ser Gunthor simply defended himself after Jasper Redfort attacked him suddenly, trying to restore his sister's honor."
'A sneak attack, then,' I thought, understanding that Harwin was trying to spare the grieving Redfort girl.
Aemon turned to Jessamyn Redfort, still in tears, and said:
"The knights of my House may not all be fine swordsmen capable of winning every tournament, but at least they're all honorable warriors who protect the weak, and none of them would stoop so low as to attack another knight from behind. That fool died in disgrace. I hope the same won't be true for you."
I wanted to shout at him, but he had orchestrated his attack against House Redfort so precisely that there was nothing I could do but sigh and order the festivities to continue.