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Chapter 7 - The Princess

As a princess, Rhaenys was constantly under watch. When Viserys approached, a plump wet nurse immediately looked over at him.

"Rhaenys, stay here and play for a while. I'll come find you later," he said.

Even though he knew her fate, priorities still had to be set right now. Especially with Aerys assigning septas and wet nurses to keep an eye on the mother and daughter.

For now, the priority was to eliminate Tywin's agents.

"Uncle, are you and Grandmother leaving?" Rhaenys asked.

"Grandmother?" Viserys blinked, realizing she meant Queen Rhaella.

But Rhaella was barely in her forties.

Thanks to her well-maintained life, she looked more like she was in her early thirties. Being called 'Grandmother' at barely over thirty felt bizarre to Viserys.

"I heard it from Mother," Rhaenys added quickly, seeing that Viserys didn't respond, and thinking she had upset him.

"Be good, and we'll bring you along when the time comes," Viserys said.

After that, he led Ser Willem upstairs.

Willem didn't take Viserys' words seriously.

Aerys had already given explicit orders that Elia and her children were to stay. Even the wet nurse who was monitoring Rhaenys didn't pay much attention to what Viserys said.

But Viserys truly intended to take Elia and her daughter with him. To put it coldly, leaving Elia and Rhaenys to Aerys was a complete waste.

The man had ruined the entire kingdom and still had the gall to treat his daughter-in-law and grandchildren as hostages.

From an emotional perspective, little Rhaenys was calling him 'Uncle.' If he hadn't known her fate, perhaps he could have ignored it. But now that he did, how could he stand by?

Soon, they arrived outside Rhaella's bedchamber.

She was inside, washing up.

Because she had gone to bed late the previous night, she had woken late too. When she woke and didn't find Viserys by her side, she felt a stab of panic.

A quick inquiry with the maid revealed he had already gone out.

Looking at her reflection in the mirror, Rhaella still appeared haggard. The pain of losing her son wasn't something that would heal overnight.

Yet there was a glimmer of hope in her eyes.

It felt as if her youngest son had grown up overnight, giving her a renewed emotional anchor.

"Your Grace, the prince is outside requesting an audience, along with Ser Willem," a maid reported.

In the past, when someone mentioned 'the prince,' Rhaella's mind would first think of Rhaegar, but now it was Viserys.

That Willem was also asking to see her struck her as odd.

"Let them in," she said.

Upon entering, Viserys immediately sat beside her, while William bowed deeply.

"Your Grace," he greeted.

"What is it, Ser Willem?" Rhaella asked, knowing Aerys had ordered William to guard her.

Viserys handed her the letter he had found in the rookery. Rhaella's expression instantly frosted over. She would not allow anyone to harm her children again.

"This matter is yours to handle, Ser Willem. See it done swiftly!" she ordered.

"As you command!" William responded and left at once to gather men for the arrests.

Meanwhile, Viserys' participation had risen to 65%.

"Mother, may I come with them?" he asked, curious if following William would boost his involvement even higher.

Naturally, Rhaella refused. He had only asked to test the waters.

"Mother, is there any way we could bring Rhaenys with us?" Viserys asked next.

Rhaella shook her head with a trace of helplessness. She considered hiding the truth but, thinking of Viserys' recently displayed intelligence and decisiveness, decided against it.

Aerys practically regarded Elia and Rhaenys as his lifeline.

They weren't just under surveillance by wet nurses and septas—there were guards posted as well.

Elia was effectively under house arrest.

Viserys had already figured Rhaella wouldn't have an easy solution. The main problem was time: they were leaving tomorrow. There was no time for careful plotting.

As far as he knew, the Red Keep contained many secret passages.

Currently, only two people knew them well: King Aerys himself and Varys, the spymaster. Of course, after serving as Hand for over a decade, Tywin Lannister might also know.

Viserys decided he would have to kill Varys before leaving King's Landing.

This would not only reduce future assassination attempts against him but might also allow him to acquire Varys' skills.

Even if he didn't fully understand how his "cheat" would define a spy's abilities, browsing through Varys' memories could reveal the secret routes of the Red Keep.

That would be their chance to save Elia and her children.

But how could he pull it off? Accusing Varys of being a Blackfyre descendant? Impossible—he had no proof.

For now, the only options seemed to be physical assassination or poisoning.

A straight fight was hopeless; poisoning might work. Conveniently, he had recently picked up half a bottle of poison from Grand Maester Pycelle's chambers.

But Varys wasn't just anybody. He wouldn't trust food or drink even if it was offered by Viserys himself.

Worse, the man controlled an extensive spy network.

Any small move on Viserys' part would likely be noticed. Varys might even already know about the raven Viserys sent earlier.

Viserys spent the entire day racking his brain but couldn't come up with a good plan. The afternoon came, and finally, there was a response from the golden finger:

[Objective: Eliminate the Ambushers - Completed]

[Participation: 65%]

[Rewards: Veterans (Infantry) x88, Veterans (Archers) x134, Elites (Infantry) x40, Elites (Archers) x96, Sailors x55.]

After capturing the ambushers, Ser Willem reported to Aerys.

Aerys ordered all the captives to be burned alive.

Of course, hundreds of people couldn't just be burned in the throne room—that would have been disgustingly inappropriate. They were all dragged to the Blackwater Rush, set ablaze, and pushed into the river.

Wildfire didn't fear water; it burned even atop the river's surface. Green flames flickered across the dark water, like eerie green will-o'-the-wisps.

The screams from within the flames assaulted the ears of those forced to witness it. A terrifying gloom settled over King's Landing, already trembling with fear.

Willem, having to face the gruesome scene directly, couldn't help but feel sickened. He looked with disgust at the pyromancers responsible.

'If only Prince Rhaegar had lived to inherit the throne,' he thought, 'perhaps he could have been the next Jaehaerys.'

King Jaehaerys I Targaryen, the Wise King and the Conciliator, had presided over an era of peace and prosperity.

Willem also couldn't help but admire Viserys' luck.

Many of the ambushers had been elite soldiers.

Their archery and swordsmanship were first-class. Had they succeeded in their ambush, the outcome might have been very different.

Viserys, meanwhile, was no bleeding-heart.

He felt no guilt looking at the long list of numbers he had just gained.

If he hadn't killed them, they would have killed him. In an age where building concentration camps felt like building charity houses, a little extra sympathy was pointless.

He focused instead on the golden finger's rewards.

This time, besides the usual absorption option, a new choice had appeared—[Fusion].

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