-Chapter 95-

-Chapter 95-

-POV Yohn Royce-

"Ser Harrold has arrived with the savages," said Ser Cedric Coldwater, my right hand, a cadet branch member.

I thought for a few seconds before finally deciding and drawing my sword from its sheath.

'For Daman,' I thought, heading toward the castle courtyard, determined to kill the first savage who crossed the threshold of my ancestors' stronghold.

"Grand-uncle," came a voice that chilled my blood, a voice I would recognize among thousands.

'My great-nephew's voice,' I thought, turning slowly in his direction.

"Going somewhere?" my great-nephew asked with a slight, mocking smile.

I didn't reply because we both knew where I was going and what I intended to do: "Daman's killer is among them, and you know it perfectly well."

"We can't know exactly how Daman died," Aemon said, playing with words, as we didn't know who had killed him, though we knew he belonged to the clan of the Stone Crows.

I lost my temper instantly and said through gritted teeth, "Don't lie to me, boy. Daman considered you a brother..."

"...and he was the same to me, but he's dead, and a senseless act of revenge won't bring him back."

'He has no heart, just a block of ice filling that void,' I thought, staring at my great-nephew, unable to detect the slightest emotion.

We stared at each other for a moment before he broke the silence and said:

"What our House needs to advance are mad dogs without an apparent leash who can strike deep at our enemies, dogs we can sacrifice at will."

"We don't need them; we could find others. These ones must die," I said, convinced I was right.

'We could hire mercenaries without spending much gold or even form groups of bandits in their lands from discontented subjects living on our enemies' territories.'

'One thing's for sure: Yorbert would never have tolerated these savages.'

"Our House will need them for what I plan," Aemon said, not even believing his own lies.

"Don't try to speak on behalf of the Royces. Everything you've ever done has been in your own interest, Aemon, and you know it perfectly well," I said, frustrated that Aemon insisted on this path.

"You might have trouble remembering it due to your advanced age, grand-uncle, but even though I bear a different family name, I am your lord; I am the Lord of this House. The House of Royce is me," he said coldly, and I found his tone subtly menacing.

I said and did nothing to reply to his disrespectful words, but he continued:

"Do I need to remind you what I've done for our House? Thanks to whom is this House on the verge of becoming a Great House? Thanks to whom is it close to surpassing all the Great Houses to become a Princely House?"

'With two damned dragons, anyone could have done better than you,' I thought inwardly without saying anything to my great-nephew, whose hands rested on the pommel of his Valyrian steel sword.

'Not Lamentation, no, but his new sword, taken from the corpse of the heir to Heart's Home,' I thought, briefly glancing at the sword before returning my gaze to my nephew, who had stopped a short distance from me.

'A short enough distance for him to decapitate me if he wished,' I thought, knowing my late brother's grandson's skill with a sword.

"Do you think you would have done better without me?" he asked me, in a slightly contemptuous tone, looking me up and down, noting that I still wasn't reacting to his poor attempts to provoke me.

'He'd love that; he'd have a perfect excuse to maim me and decapitate my personal guard,' I thought, beginning to understand him better.

'It took losing almost all authority in this House to finally see who he really is,' I thought, recalling all the underhanded moves this young man had made to gradually strip me of all control over the knights loyal to our House as well as our vassals.

"Do you think that without me, your granddaughter Perra would be on the verge of becoming the queen's sister-in-law and the daughter-in-law of the Hand of the King?" he asked as he approached, still in a soft tone, though his expression grew colder as he moved closer.

His last phrase piqued my interest, and I looked at him, frowning, waiting for an explanation.

"I tolerate your presence in my fief, dear grand-uncle; it's not the other way around. Are we clear on that?" he said, not seeking to explain himself in the slightest.

I clenched my fists tightly, took a deep breath, then said as I sheathed my sword:

"I know perfectly well that you cared deeply for Daman. I don't know what you're waiting for to avenge his death, but don't delay too long—I won't have the patience to wait forever."

'There's no point in risking my life, or the lives of all my descendants, for revenge. I have no doubt he'd be capable of eliminating them one by one if they strayed from the path he's laid out for them.'

Aemon smiled and said, "I'll take the time it takes."

'Once Gunthor returns, we'll need to have a serious conversation. Rhea has no more influence over this little monster.'