Chapter 193: The Diplomatic Mission

"Lord Tywin." Lord Renly arrived shortly after, dressed in a deep green velvet suit and wearing a polite smile. "You summoned me?"

Tywin gestured for him to sit. "Good news just arrived from Skyreach."

Renly, recalling seeing Ser Lancel Lannister earlier, smiled and asked, "Has His Grace taken Skyreach?"

"Yes, and he has captured the 'Red Viper' as well," Tywin replied without the slightest change in expression. "So I'd like you to represent the Iron Throne and take this news to Prince Doran in Sunspear, and inform him that the Iron Throne is open to peace talks with Dorne."

"Peace talks?" Renly seemed slightly surprised.

"Yes," Tywin replied calmly. "Our goal in this war was simply to bring the 'Red Viper' to justice. Now that he's been captured, there's no reason to continue fighting."

Renly nodded, finding the suggestion wise. "You're absolutely right. There's no need to keep fighting. Sunspear is within reach, but with the Dornish nature, even if we take the city, they won't submit. We'd face endless rebellion, skirmishes, bloodshed… making peace now is the wiser choice."

"However, if you insist on putting the 'Red Viper' on trial, Prince Doran may refuse to end hostilities. Even if Dorne lacks the strength to launch a counterattack, House Martell will likely never bow to the Iron Throne again."

Tywin nodded thoughtfully. "Tell Prince Doran that if the 'Red Viper' admits his guilt, I will allow him to take the black and join the Night's Watch."

"The Night's Watch?" Renly paused, then chuckled. "It's a hard life on the Wall, but at least it spares him his life. Yet even so, I doubt that will be enough to persuade Prince Doran."

Tywin added, "You may also tell Prince Doran that if Dorne submits, I would be willing to marry Princess Myrcella Baratheon into House Martell."

"With such generous terms, I think Prince Doran may accept," Renly said with a satisfied smile. "Very well, I'll head to Sunspear."

Tywin nodded approvingly, then rose and poured two glasses of red wine, handing one to Renly.

"To your success."

Renly accepted the wine, clinking glasses with Tywin. "For peace across the Seven Kingdoms."

With that, he drank in one long draft.

Leaving Tywin's tent, Renly went to change before setting out with his squire, Ser Loras Tyrell, the "Knight of Flowers," toward Sunspear.

At the camp's gate, Renly noticed Tywin had sent two others to accompany him on this mission.

"Ser Gregor… I'm surprised Lord Tywin chose you."

Looking at the hulking figure of Gregor "the Mountain" Clegane, Renly's gaze became thoughtful.

"Yes, my lord," Gregor responded in a deep, gruff tone.

"Very well, let's be off." Renly chuckled lightly, believing he understood Tywin's intentions.

During Robert's Rebellion, Tywin had led his army into King's Landing, and it was Gregor "the Mountain" Clegane who had slain Prince Rhaegar Targaryen's wife, Elia Martell of Dorne, along with her two young children.

House Martell had harbored that grudge against House Lannister for over a decade.

Sending Gregor to Sunspear now was like releasing a boar into a viper's nest.

Tywin had provided House Martell with a "gift" of sorts.

Renly's confidence in the peace talks only grew.

There were four members in their diplomatic party, with the fourth being Tywin's nephew, Daven Lannister.

The guards at Sunspear were notified and lowered a basket to hoist them up to the battlements.

When it was Gregor "the Mountain's" turn, the first basket snapped under his weight, nearly killing the Westerlands knight. The guards quickly replaced it with a larger, sturdier one, finally hauling the giant of a man onto the walls with great effort.

Walking the streets, Renly could feel the blatant hostility of the Dornish.

They made no attempt to hide it, shouting openly, "Kill them! Kill them!"

Prince Doran had to send soldiers to escort them the rest of the way to the palace, protecting the Iron Throne's envoys from the wrath of the Dornish crowd.

"Lord Renly." Princess Arianne Martell greeted him outside the Old Palace.

"Princess Arianne." Renly greeted her courteously, kissing her hand.

"Did you feel the warmth of the Dornish people?" Arianne asked, smiling.

"Oh, I felt it," Renly replied, still hearing the ceaseless shouts and jeers, though his smile never faltered. "It's as fiery as the sun."

"There's an even greater heat to experience," Arianne teased, casting him a sultry look before leading the way.

Her swaying figure was barely concealed under her gauzy gown.

Renly, however, kept his eyes forward, unbothered.

They walked through the narrow, winding corridors of the palace, arriving at a heavily fortified side door.

But then, an awkward moment arose: the door was too narrow for Gregor "the Mountain" Clegane to fit through.

"Are all you Dornish mice, hiding in your tiny holes?" Gregor roared, trying to force his way through, shaking the walls and dislodging dust and pebbles with each shove.

"Ser Gregor, kindly use the main gate below," Arianne suggested.

Ignoring her, Gregor continued to squeeze himself through, seeming determined to smash his way in.

Renly and the others hurriedly intervened to coax him down.

As they resumed walking, they soon heard shouts and clamor behind them.

Renly halted, his expression one of feigned amusement, and looked at Arianne.

"Is this how the Dornish welcome guests?"

"It's the warmest welcome we offer." Arianne chuckled, turning to watch the commotion unfold as if eager to enjoy the scene.

Renly and the others followed suit, arriving just in time to see Gregor engaged in a brutal fight with seven or eight Dornishmen. It wasn't only people he fought; venomous Dornish snakes were biting at his legs.

Bellowing like a beast, Gregor swung his massive sword, cleaving into one Dornishman's shoulder. Blood and brains sprayed as the man's head flew off.

The sight horrified some onlookers, while enraging others.

Wielding spears, the crowd swarmed Gregor, piercing his hulking form with a dozen bloody holes.

"You damn mice!" Gregor roared, spinning his sword wildly. "Die!"

Spears splintered one by one, though his sword slipped from his hand.

A Dornish knight, thinking the "Mountain" was exhausted, charged to decapitate him.

Schwick—

The knight's sword struck Gregor's shoulder, lodging in the bone.

Before he could withdraw it, the Mountain lunged, laughing madly as he closed in.

To the horror of all, Gregor's massive hand gripped the Dornish knight in an embrace like lovers.

In an instant, Gregor's steel fingers gouged out the knight's eyes, and with a brutal punch, shattered his jaw.

Laughing maniacally, the "Mountain" twisted the broken head from the knight's neck.

The Dornish erupted in fury, arrows raining down, riddling Gregor's form until he resembled a hedgehog.

Yet even then, he charged, wreaking bloody havoc among his assailants.

Renly's stomach churned, and he turned away to avoid losing his breakfast.

The battle grew even more frenzied, Gregor's dying shrieks echoing like those of a wild beast.

Renly's nausea intensified, and, unable to bear it, he doubled over, retching uncontrollably.

Loras stepped forward to comfort him, patting him on the back.

Arianne watched, a smirk playing on her lips. "Lord Renly, it seems you're not quite suited for Dornish hospitality. Perhaps we should continue inside."

"Yes, let's," Renly managed, eager to escape the horrific sounds of Gregor's death throes, as Loras supported him, helping him stagger away.

They entered the Old Palace and found their way to a reception chamber.

Renly took a deep gulp of wine, forcing down the last of his nausea.

He found it odd, even unsettling, that the scene had affected him so intensely. Though gruesome, he had seen bloodshed before.

"Where is Prince Doran?" he asked, striving to shake off the embarrassment.

"He'll be here shortly, my lord." Arianne offered a sympathetic smile. "Are you hungry? Shall I bring you some food?"

"No!" Renly shook his head, feeling his stomach churn again. He took another sip of wine to settle it.

But unexpectedly, the wine seemed to inflame his discomfort rather than soothe it. His nausea surged uncontrollably—

"Ugh!"

Arianne's look of disdain deepened. "Lord Renly, perhaps I should summon a maester to prescribe some medicine?"

Renly could only nod weakly, unable to speak.

Loras, concerned for his lord, answered on his behalf. "Thank you, Your Highness."

Arianne's attention shifted to Loras, her gaze appreciative. The young Tyrell knight was indeed handsome...

She bit her lip, and threw a wink at the "Flowers Knight", but unfortunately he immediately looked away.

Princess Arianne was secretly annoyed, but still stretched out her hand to call a servant. Just as she was about to give an order, she heard a thud. Lord Renly fell off his chair and fell into vomit, looking extremely somber.

Princess Arianne couldn't help laughing out loud, but soon her smile froze on her face.

Because, Renly actually started vomiting blood!

Blood mixed with vomit flowed on the ground, forming a colorful oil painting.

Especially dazzling.

(End of this chapter)