Eel Hour
After the hour of the bat came the hour of the eel.
If the fishermen wanted to catch eels, they would have already started casting their nets by now.
Viserys quickly hid the envelope he had just found inside his clothes and made his way toward Maegor's Holdfast — the King's residence.
Aside from the King, all other members of the royal family also lived here.
The maids along the corridor quickly stepped aside at the sight of him.
The armored guards, already standing stiffly, straightened even further at his approach, their armor clinking as they adjusted their posture.
The grief and rage King Aerys had felt upon hearing the news of his eldest son's death had gradually subsided.
But new anger was already brewing inside him, ready to explode at any moment.
And Grand Maester Pycelle was about to become the spark that lit the fuse.
Viserys arrived at the foot of Maegor's Holdfast. It would be his first time, since transmigrating into this world a few days ago, to meet the legendary Mad King face-to-face.
To be honest, he didn't have any goodwill toward Aerys.
The man had dragged the realm into ruin with his own hands. Not to mention, he had raped his wife, mistreated, and alienated his own eldest son.
The only thing Viserys could credit him for was staying behind to defend the city instead of fleeing when everything fell apart — showing a sliver of backbone.
But even that was merely atonement for his own mistakes.
Viserys was clearing Pycelle out of the way mainly to allow Aerys to burn out the last of his usefulness.
Just as he was about to step into the Holdfast, a man with a shining bald head emerged from within. Though he looked a bit plump, his steps were remarkably light, silent even.
Before the man could even approach, Viserys could already catch the strong whiff of perfume wafting from him.
This was the Red Keep's only eunuch — the Master of Whisperers — Varys, the Spider.
In truth, he was secretly a supporter rebels.
"Prince Viserys," Varys quickened his pace to greet him, bowing respectfully.
He was tall, towering over Viserys and casting a shadow that completely enveloped the young prince.
"Ah, Prince Viserys, the Queen was just about to send someone to look for you."
Queen Rhaella, who at this time was pregnant with the future Mother of Dragons — Daenerys.
No doubt she wanted to discuss plans for escape.
"I understand. I'll head there after this," Viserys replied.
They brushed past each other. As Viserys walked into Maegor's Holdfast, Varys turned his head slightly, watching him like a spider eying a trapped fly.
After a moment, Varys quietly left.
Meanwhile, Viserys, now climbing the stairs to the second floor, made a new decision:
He had to deal with Varys too, before they fled.
The Spider controlled the intelligence network across King's Landing and the eastern continent.
In the original timeline, Viserys and Daenerys had faced multiple assassination attempts during their flight — most orchestrated by this man.
True, the rebel leaders had also hired assassins, but without Varys' help, their efficiency would have been far worse.
[New Objective: Execute Master of Whisperers Varys]
[Participation: 0]
Noticing the update from his mysterious system, Viserys felt a surge of puzzlement.
What would completing these objectives actually do?
Would there be some kind of reward?
Setting the question aside for now, he decided not to visit Rhaella just yet. Instead, he headed to the very top of the Holdfast — to King Aerys' chambers.
The upper floors of Maegor's Holdfast were deathly silent at night. One could even hear the faint echoes of footsteps against the stone steps.
As he raised his head, Viserys saw a tall, golden-haired knight standing at the stairway.
The knight's hair gleamed like it had been dipped in molten gold, and his features seemed sculpted by a master artist.
Even though only his silhouette was visible, he exuded an aura of striking heroism.
He was Jaime Lannister — a member of the Kingsguard, sworn protector of Aerys.
Viserys' pupils contracted slightly. The evidence he had in his possession implicated Pycelle conspiring with Tywin Lannister — Jaime's father.
If Aerys ordered Pycelle's execution, Jaime would surely be caught up in it too.
"Prince Viserys," Jaime greeted him, his gaze complicated — as if he could already foresee the boy's tragic fate.
"I seek an audience with my father," Viserys said.
"His Grace is not seeing anyone right now," Jaime replied.
"Please inform him that I have uncovered a traitor," Viserys pressed.
"A traitor?"
Jaime looked at him skeptically.
He didn't believe the young prince's wild imagination — it seemed like the boy had inherited the same paranoia as his father, seeing traitors everywhere.
Jaime didn't want to risk provoking the already grief-stricken and unstable King any further.
The other guards nearby turned their eyes toward them, tension thick in the air.
"His Grace is very tired. Perhaps you could tell me, and I will inform him tomorrow?" Jaime suggested, trying to gently dismiss him.
But Viserys shook his head stubbornly.
"If I tell you and the traitor flees tomorrow, who will take responsibility? If you won't deliver the message, then I won't leave!"
He certainly couldn't tell Jaime the details — that the traitor was colluding with Jaime's own father, Tywin, Duke of Casterly Rock.
If Aerys learned of Tywin's betrayal, who knew how Jaime might react? He could even take Viserys hostage.
Unlikely, perhaps — but not impossible.
Though the possibility was low, he absolutely could not afford to lower his guard.
Viserys simply plopped himself down, looking as if he intended to throw a tantrum. However, he quickly noticed that the Kingsguard before him remained utterly unmoved.
"Your Highness, you should return," Jaime said quietly as he stepped closer. "Come back tomorrow."
A faint scent of leather and steel clung to the young knight.
But Viserys was unwilling to wait.
He had to expose Pycelle — and he had to deliver the evidence into Aerys's own hands.
With a sudden movement, he jumped to his feet and turned toward the King's bedchamber, shouting loudly:
"Father! I've found a spy! I've uncovered a traitor! Seize him! Seize him!"
Startled by the prince's sudden cries, Jaime hurriedly tried to quiet him.
The nearby guards also tensed up.
Disturbing the King's rest was dangerous for all of them.
The young prince might be safe, being the King's only remaining heir, but the rest of them could be replaced at any moment.
It was already too late. From inside the room came a hoarse voice, rough like a wounded beast:
"Who dares to disturb me!"
It was Aerys himself.
Grief over the loss of his heir still gnawed at him, but the unexpected clamor outside only fueled his mounting rage.
Aerys could already feel the urge to kill bubbling up inside him.
"Your Grace, it's Prince Viserys," Jaime said through the door, trying to explain.
But there was no immediate response.
Instead, a heavy silence followed.
The guards exchanged anxious glances, and even the faint breeze brushing past seemed to stir an unbearable tension.
Viserys's heart thudded uneasily.
If his father ordered him to leave, then he would take the letter to Queen Rhaella as quickly as possible. That was all he could do.
After what felt like an eternity, Aerys finally answered:
"Let him in."
The King had spoken — there was no room for hesitation.
Jaime stepped aside, and Viserys was allowed to pass. The great doors opened, and several handmaidens rushed in first to light the room.
As candle after candle flickered to life, a frail figure gradually came into view.
Long silver hair hung down, nearly obscuring his face, and his fingernails — left untrimmed for far too long — had grown so grotesquely long they nearly surpassed his fingers.
At first glance, he looked less like a king and more like a specter come to claim a soul.