Game of Thrones: I Am The Heir For A Day

Chapter 538: Daemon’s Return

Chapter 538: Daemon’s Return

"Run faster, run faster...” Helaena muttered, her heart pounding as she sprinted up the stairs with Maekar in her arms.

“Auntie,” Maekar murmured, feeling listless and slumping against her.

“Don’t worry, we’re almost there,” Helaena reassured him, glancing back frequently.

Ser Steffon followed closely, his face tense as he remained silent, not daring to disturb the Princess and the Prince.

The hall was eerily quiet, save for the crackling bonfire that cast flickering shadows, dispelling the night’s darkness. Helaena rushed inside, dropping to her knees at the edge of the fire altar.

Maekar looked around, his confusion deepening as he saw the red priest Varys lighting candles nearby.

“Princess,” Varys greeted her calmly, as if this were an ordinary occurrence.

Helaena remained silent, gently rocking Maekar back and forth as if to lull him to sleep. She adored her nephew and had instinctively woken him, seeking refuge in what she believed to be the safest place.

“I’ll stand guard,” Steffon announced, positioning himself resolutely at the door, his expression helpless but determined.

Varys offered a sweet smile, suggesting, “You should inform the other Kingsguard that there is no danger here.”

Steffon hesitated, glancing between Varys with his intricate tattoos and the anxious Princess and Prince. Deciding against leaving, he straightened his back, ready to protect Maekar at all costs.

“Well, that’s fine then,” Varys said with a shrug. He lit two sticks of calming incense, his gaze drifting to the doorway.

Whoosh!

A shadow flitted past, moving like a ghostly wraith.

Varys’ smile remained undiminished as he shook his head in quiet amusement.

“A family of petty minds,” he mused softly.

...

Mysaria ran downstairs in a panic, but the Kingsguard who should have been on duty was nowhere to be seen.

“Seven levels of hell!” she cursed under her breath.

The corridor was dark and desolate, her footsteps echoing in the emptiness. A sense of powerlessness invaded her chest as she realized how alone she was. Who had ordered the assassination? She wasn’t sure. But someone had been near her room, and the Kingsguard supposed to be on duty had vanished.

The coincidences seemed to remind her that there was no one she could trust in the Topless Tower.

“Woof woof~~”

A dog limped out, whimpering at the corner of the stairs. Mysaria's face changed as she heard the faint sound of men scolding and cursing.

Without hesitation, she turned and continued running downstairs. She didn’t trust anyone else, but she knew of a safe haven.

...

It was late at night. Mysaria curled up in the cold, damp cellar. The space was filled with radishes and potatoes, and she rubbed her hands together, trying to find some warmth. If she could just get through the night, she would board Myr's merchant ship to Tyrosh in the morning.

“Damn it, where is that bitch hiding?”

“Keep your voice down. How should I know?”

Just as she let her guard down, she heard familiar voices outside. Her eyes widened as she hastily covered herself with sackcloth, her nerves more on edge than ever. Why would someone be in the pantry? She had checked earlier, and no one but the cook should be in the cellar.

“Woof woof~~”

The dog whimpered, slipping into the kitchen to find something to eat in the slop bucket. The man and the dog were separated by a door, but they could hear each other breathing.

Splash!

The slop bucket was kicked away, and a rough voice yelled, “Eat shit! If we can't cut off the head of the White Worm, you won't get a penny.”

The dog was being bullied, and the cook was also angry: “What are you so angry about? You can't get into the white worm's place.”

Behind the door, Mysaria heard this and dared not breathe. Sure enough, someone had put a bounty on her head.

Suddenly, a mangy rat poked its head out, jumped onto Mysaria's lap, and then jumped out of the door.

“Ooh!”

Mysaria was shocked and quickly covered her mouth to stifle her voice. The mouse squeezed through the crack in the door and scurried into the kitchen to find food.

“Woof woof~~”

The puppy, who was licking the slop, was the first to notice the rat. Soon after, the sound of something moving in the pantry was heard.

The fat man and the cook froze, turning their heads to look at the closed cellar door. There were many rooms in the Topless Tower where they could hide until dawn, but the White Worm did not call the guards to arrest them. Could it be...

Bang!

The two men looked at each other, and the fat man kicked open the cellar door, revealing the pale woman hiding under the torn sack.

“Haha, it was easy to get her,” the cook chuckled and reached into his pants. After two fumbles, he pulled out a dagger.

The fat man snatched the dagger and said with a gloomy face, “You hold her down, I'll do it.”

“Who are you, and how much is the reward?” Mysaria gasped for breath and tried to bribe them: “I'll give you ten times the price if you let me live.”

“Ten times?” The fat man's eyelids drooped, and he seemed to be tempted: “That's a lot of money.”

Mysaria followed up, swallowing her saliva: “With the money, I can find a ship to Pentos and ensure your safety.”

“Oh, what do you think?” The fat man looked expressionless and glanced at the kitchen helper.

Mysaria silently stepped back, clutching a carrot in her hand, waiting for the two to discuss the results.

Pop!

A slap hit her face hard and fast, causing her cheeks to swell up. Mysaria felt a sharp pain and fell to the ground, dizzy.

“Bah!” The fat man spat and said disdainfully, “Lying words, I've been able to do that since I was a kid.”

The cook grabbed Mysaria by the hair and urged him, “Hurry up and get it over with so we can leave.”

“I know.” The fat man raised his dagger and aimed it at the pale neck.

At the last moment, a dog barking was heard.

“Woof woof~~”

The fat man froze at the sound and angrily shook his head: “Damn stupid dog, can't you stop barking!”

In a flash, there was more than one dog at the door of the vegetable cellar. There was also a slender shadow holding a crossbow.

Whoosh!

A crossbow bolt flew through the neck of the excited cook. His body stiffened, and blood gushed from the wound. Mysaria was splattered with blood and suddenly snapped back to reality, smelling the stench.

“Who!” The fat man was startled, and because of the light, he could only see a vague shadow.

Shoo! Shoo!

Two more arrows were shot, piercing his arm and thigh.

“Ahhh!” The fat man let out a scream, and the dagger fell out of his hand. His eyesight was poor, thanks to the attack by a runaway frenzy silver dragon when Dorne invaded the Stormlands. His comrades died before his eyes, and the firelight hurt his eyes. He panicked and deserted.

“Die!” Mysaria was ruthless, picking up the dagger and stabbing it into the fat man's beer belly. She rolled and crawled out of the room.

At the door, the shadow with the crossbow was still there.

“Who are you?” Mysaria didn't trust anyone and didn't dare to get too close.

The shadow glanced at her, removed the black scarf covering her head, and revealed a face with an exotic style. Sara's expression was cold, and she casually said, “Don't worry, you're safe.”

“The queen sent you. Who are they?” Mysaria was confused and couldn't tell friend from foe.

Sara loaded the crossbow and said calmly, “I don't know. They're just little thieves.” The Topless Tower is not a rat's nest like King's Landing. It's not a place where people can just come and go as they please.

Seeing that she was about to shoot the crossbow again, Mysaria quickly stopped her: “Leave them alive to interrogate the mastermind behind this.”

Sara paused, and thought it made sense.

Suddenly, a sound of small objects rustling came from behind.

“Woof woof~~” The puppy lay on the ground, covering its head with its paws and not daring to look.

Another ghostly figure appeared, holding a bamboo skewer in his hand.

Whoosh!

The bamboo skewer shot out, heading straight for the fat man's neck.

Sara's eyes narrowed, and she kicked the bamboo skewer away, coldly saying, “What are you doing?”

“Don't be so excited, little girl.” The ghost tilted his head and said in a soft voice: “Believe me, he shouldn't be alive.”

“You're just pretending to be a ghost.” Sara raised her crossbow.

The ghost sighed softly and slowly walked out of the darkness. Unkempt brown curls, rough skin, and a sloppy appearance. Syrio glanced at Mysaria and said in a calm voice, “The teachings of the Faceless Men are that you should not leave any loose ends behind.”

He had seen the assassins enter the Topless Tower. But the assassins' origins were hard to fathom. It would be bad for the royal family's reputation to leave a survivor.

Sara's eyebrows rose in anger, and she said unceremoniously, “He must be kept alive. The queen will interrogate him herself.”

The two assassins had sneaked into the Topless Tower, intending to assassinate the Prince's Paramour. If the truth is not uncovered, the dirty water will be splashed on the queen and Lady Laena.

“Doesn't make sense?” Syrio's eyes were as sharp as a hawk's.

Sara did not back down, calmly saying, “There has to be an explanation.”

The two top assassins exchanged a fierce look. Mysaria's face tightened, and she walked out of the room step by step.

In an instant, two dark shadows collided, the clanging sound of metal clashing reverberating through the cellar.

“Guards, where are the guards?” Mysaria shouted as she ran out the door, her voice echoing in the hallway.

Clatter...

The guards, alerted by the noise, hurried toward the cellar.

Inside the cellar, Syrio, with a bloody mark on his cheek, moved gracefully, his steps precise and measured.

Sara stood her ground, two daggers poised in her hands, her eyes locked on Syrio.

“You've lost,” Syrio said, his tone dripping with sarcasm as he looked for an opening.

Sara remained silent, covering the bloody gash on her left thigh, her breathing steady despite the pain.

“Someone, hurry!”

“Assassin! Hurry up!” The commotion outside grew louder as a group of guards rushed over.

Syrio lowered his gaze, picked up a radish, and tossed it toward Sara as a test.

With a swift motion, Sara waved her hand, slicing the radish cleanly in half.

Whoosh!

Seizing the moment, Syrio rolled sideways, grabbed the crossbow from the ground, and shot an arrow at the fat man.

Pop!

The arrow pierced the fat man's eye socket before Sara could intervene.

The two assassins exchanged a glance, understanding passing silently between them. They quickly gathered their equipment and prepared to leave, knowing the man was dead and the cleanup was no longer their responsibility.

...

That night, the entire Topless Tower was abuzz with activity. Lights blazed in every window, and the hallways were filled with a throng of people.

The search for the assassin's accomplices and the truth behind the assassination was in full swing. Rhaenyra, roused from her sleep, joined the frantic efforts.

White Worm could be a target, but not on her watch. She knew Daemon would not let this go unpunished.

...

A few days later, in Volantis, within the grand mansion...

"Volantis and the surrounding towns have surrendered. Our next strategic objective is Slaver's Bay," Rhaegar announced, his voice echoing in the large, bright hall as he moved a large wall map.

Daemon and Rhaenys, each standing on opposite sides of the map, stared intently at the three slave Free Cities.

Rhaegar, full of vigor, declared loudly, "I propose that we attack Yunkai first and use the strategy of encircling and attacking the reinforcements."

"Slaver's Bay is too vast for three dragons and a naval fleet to conquer in one swoop. We must wear them down first, then destroy them piece by piece. Only then can we defeat the remnants of the Old Empire of Ghis and the bastard Dragonlord."

Knock, knock! The sound of knocking came from outside.

A servant quietly entered and whispered two words in Daemon's ear.

Rhaegar took a deep breath and watched quietly.

Bang! Daemon suddenly exploded, slamming his hand on the table and kicking the chair away. He cursed as he stormed out, "Damn bitch."

Rhaegar and Rhaenys exchanged puzzled glances, unable to understand why Daemon had suddenly lost his temper.

"Brother," Daeron rushed over, clutching two letters in his hands.

Rhaegar opened the first letter, which contained the details of the assassination attempt on Mysaria, the White Worm, sent by Rhaenyra.

The second letter was from Maris Baratheon of Storm's End.

Rhaegar tore off the seal and read the letter. His face darkened like a stormy sky, his breathing becoming heavy with anger.

"Aemond!" he growled.