"Why not let the two ministers return to their residences and stay there, with guards outside? That wouldn't go against the secret decree's instructions," Renly said, trying to comfort Hannah.
"Besides, my brother has already reached the Riverlands. It won't take long to send a letter."
He smiled, "I wonder if what I just said counts as the so-called 'objecting and pleading'?"
"I agree," the Steward of the Red Keep interjected. "Logically, His Majesty's decree should be conveyed by me. This time is unusual, so it's better to be careful."
Renly was very surprised that the Steward of the Red Keep, who held some weight, would so directly state his position.
But that was no longer important.
He knew his elder brother's temperament. If the brave Robert truly knew about this, he would have probably rushed back with his hammer and smashed the two traitors into mincemeat by now.
Therefore, this was not a secret decree at all, but a coup initiated by the Lannisters!
In such a maelstrom, what did the verbal support of a steward matter? Renly didn't care about these trivial details.
He only felt a deep sense of unease.
Was this coup only aimed at Varys and Petyr? Or were the Lannisters planning to completely turn hostile?
How foolish and arrogant!
Was it Duke Tywin's decision? Had he come out of Casterly Rock? With how many troops?
Renly could only prepare for the worst.
If a fight truly broke out, facing over 150 Lion Guards and 300 Gold Cloaks, Renly's own twenty-odd Storm's End soldiers were clearly not enough to protect themselves.
Therefore, he had to secure the support of the Royal Guards and the assembled courtiers and retainers.
Two hundred Royal Guards would be enough to turn the tide. But since the War of the Usurper, King Robert had the Iron Throne and the Crownlands, while Renly's fief was Storm's End, receiving the fealty of the lords of the Stormlands. The two brothers were no longer the same deer.
Renly did not have the authority to command the Royal Guards.
Moreover, the order in the secret decree was not to immediately execute the ministers; they still had to wait for the King's personal judgment. In this situation, the Royal Guards were actually more likely to side with the Lannisters, who claimed to possess the secret decree.
Fortunately, the courtiers and retainers combined had three or four hundred swords.
Renly looked at the handsome Knight of Flowers, Loras Tyrell, and smiled politely.
The Knight of Flowers immediately understood. "I agree with Lord Renly's view. Letting the two ministers have a few quiet days in their residences can avoid irreversible harm and also not go against the decree. Isn't that good?"
"I am willing to personally serve as a guard!"
The courtiers and knights close to House Tyrell also spoke up in agreement.
Ser Arys Oakheart of the Kingsguard immediately rebuked, "Where do you have the right to speak here? Be quiet!"
Boom~
More courtiers started clamoring, expressing that they could not tolerate such humiliation, and that every ser had the right to speak.
The originally solemn and dignified atmosphere became completely chaotic.
Hannah bit her lip. Whose man was Arys? Didn't he know that his words would anger everyone?
Were the people protesting truly feeling humiliated, or was it because they were friendly with certain individuals?
Hannah felt a bit frustrated. The Crown Prince had clearly instructed her to try and take down Varys and Littlefinger through political procedures, but now it seemed likely that a lot of blood would be shed.
But she was fortunate to hear His Highness's clear voice say, "Don't worry, it's all about to end."
Bang!
A loud noise came from the doorway. Bright light instantly swept across the hall, accompanied by the sound of armor clashing. Everyone instinctively looked over.
Varys and Petyr knew that reinforcements had arrived, so they smiled and turned around, their smiles freezing on their faces.
The heavy doors of the Throne Room were pushed aside by golden cloaks. A figure stood in the center of the doorway, and countless gold cloaks flooded into the hall from either side of him.
"The Hound!!"
The City Watch Commander pointed at the figure and exclaimed, his face full of disbelief.
"Why are you with my men!?"
The Hound lifted his visor, revealing a ferocious face, and approached the short, stocky commander step by step.
People quietly watched the Hound, who was covered in bloodstains.
The Hound patted his shoulder mockingly, "I heard your old man was a butcher. He only taught you to eat meat, not how to distinguish masters? What do you mean your men? They are all His Majesty's men!"
The commander looked at the newly arrived gold cloaks. Some were familiar, some were strangers, but none of them looked at him with the same respectful gaze as before.
He was about to curse, but those cold eyes immediately extinguished all his anger and confidence. Although he didn't know why, he knew that the City Watch was no longer his.
The commander forced a smile, "Ser Sandor, I am loyal to His Majesty. We are on the same side."
"Heh," the Hound stared into his eyes. "Guess what I want to do now."
The commander tried hard not to break eye contact, but dense beads of sweat continuously seeped from his forehead, and his heart pounded violently.
"Ser Sandor," the commander moved his fingers.
"I really can't guess what you..." He suddenly erupted, drawing a dagger and stabbing desperately at the Hound.
The Hound easily gripped his right wrist holding the blade, then caught the incoming left punch. With a squeeze of his hands, crack crack, he almost crushed the bones, and finally drove his knee up.
Clang~
The dagger fell from the trembling right hand onto the floor tiles. The intense pain in his internal organs made the Commander's face as red as a boiled shrimp.
The Hound kicked him down with both feet. "Have all you sers seen clearly? This fellow not only disobeyed His Majesty's decree, but also attacked first. Is there any doubt about his rebellious intentions?"
The Hound picked up the dagger the Commander had dropped. "In the King's name, execute the former Commander of the King's Landing City Watch, Janos Slynt, immediately!"
The Hound didn't even bend down. With a flick of the dagger, he directly pierced Janos's neck.
Janos helplessly stretched out his arms for help, struggling with gasps, but the blood flowed more and more, his breathing grew weaker and weaker, until he stiffened into a twisted corpse.
Still no one spoke.
The Gold Cloaks The Hound brought were estimated to be more numerous than everyone else combined.
The Royal Guards, who were already inclined to believe the secret decree, immediately drew their swords and pointed them at the three hundred Gold Cloaks under Janos.
The situation was completely reversed.
Hannah issued the final ultimatum, "The decree states that the crimes of those below him are pardoned, and they shall remain in their respective positions. This is your last chance!"
The Gold Cloaks stationed in the Red Keep looked at each other. Who would dare face the blades of several times their number of comrades and guards?
Clang~ Clang~
A few breaths later, hundreds of ownerless spears lay on the ground.
Hannah began to relay His Highness's instructions, "Lord Varys, Lord Petyr, please quietly accept supervision. Only then will you have a chance to clear yourselves of suspicion."
She approached the two and whispered, "Actually, His Highness the Crown Prince also doesn't believe in the crimes of you two sers. His Highness even pleaded with His Majesty on your behalf for this, and was severely scolded for quite a while. Please rest assured and recuperate for a while. When His Majesty and the others return to the palace, there will definitely be a turning point."
Heh, anyone who believes that is a fool.
But Varys and Petyr knew this was an implicit statement, meaning that both sides still had a chance to coexist and didn't need to fight to the death.
But was this statement necessarily true?
To speak or not to speak? The two faced a difficult choice.
If they spoke, they would die on the spot.
If they didn't speak, they might die later, or they might not.
"Let's go, my lords."
The Hound and dozens of Lannister guards surrounded them.
In the end, they did not reveal the information that would surely result in mutual destruction – Joffrey's parentage.
The Small Council Meeting ended.
The courtiers scattered in a hurry, as if terrifying ghosts were following behind them.
Below the Iron Throne.
Hannah coldly stared at the stumbling back of the Steward of the Red Keep.
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