-Chapter 180-

-POV Gunthor Royce-

"Commander, I don't feel well," said Ulf, his face as pale as his long hair, knowing we were next to step into the arena.

I smiled, as did my men, watching Ulf's cowardly behavior as he already regretted what he had gotten himself into.

Yoren slapped him hard on the back, slightly pushing him due to the weight of his armor, which he still hadn't gotten used to, then said:

"Be a man, puff out your chest, hold your sword properly, and stay at the center of our formation. We'll handle the rest."

"But..."

Ulf, clearly not reassured at all by Yoren's bold words — who seemed to treat this competition like a big joke because of our level — wanted to add something, but didn't get the chance, as I cut him off abruptly.

'It's our turn,' I thought, hearing the herald call my name in the distance and seeing the arena gates open before us, pulled by gold cloaks tasked with securing the tournament.

"No buts, big guy, it's our turn," I said as I stepped into the arena, followed by everyone, Ulf included. Despite his cowardly air, I sensed something inside him.

'It's been a while since I had such an entertaining recruit,' I thought, finding Ulf's cowardice amusing in this context and not judging him too quickly, because only when a man is backed into a corner can you truly judge his worth.

'A man who seems cowardly might be a clever fox waiting for the right time to strike,' I thought, recalling countless times Aemon had pretended to be just that to deceive his opponent before devouring them whole.

'Aemon is a different breed altogether,' I thought, for he was truly a complex man.

'A breed like I've never seen before,' I told myself while saluting the crowd, who roared at the sight of our bronze-colored armor, bearing a shield emblem at the center — the mark of the Order of the Bronze Shields, the last line of defense for our Prince.

Once we reached the center, I positioned myself to the side, neither near the knights of the Riverlands nor those of the Reach, for I knew that today we would all be facing each other for the honor and reputation of our respective lords and masters.

'There will be no false courtesies, only total war to once again assert Aemon's dominance over the realm,' I thought, recalling the mission my nephew had given me in this arena.

"NOW PLEASE WELCOME THE KNIGHTS OF THE WESTERLANDS LED BY THE LORD OF HOUSE LANNISTER, WARDEN OF THE WEST, SHIELD OF LANNISPORT, AND LORD OF CASTERLY ROCK, JASON LANNISTER."

I turned to see the only ally I would have in this trial strutting in under the crowd's cheers before quickly taking position at my side, locking eyes with Aemon.

I stifled a smile, for I knew the fear Aemon instilled in this lord, but beyond that, I knew the deep desire that had taken root in his heart.

'He wants a dragon.'

And for that, the Lord of House Lannister would have to prove himself, to show Aemon why House Lannister was indispensable to him.

"PLEASE GIVE A ROUSING APPLAUSE FOR THE KNIGHTS OF THE STORMLANDS LED BY BORROS BARATHEON, LORD OF STORMLANDS," said the herald tasked with presenting the tournament to the spectators.

Once again, the crowd cheered for the knights who would soon be fighting to the death in the arena.

The herald took a bit more time to calm the crowd before introducing the final combatants:

"THOSE ENTERING NOW ARE THE BRAVEST MEN IN ALL WESTEROS, SERVING DIRECTLY UNDER THE KING AND LED BY NONE OTHER THAN OUR FUTURE KING. GIVE A HUGE ROUND OF APPLAUSE FOR LAENOR VELARYON AND THE KNIGHTS OF THE CROWNLANDS."

I lowered my gaze to hide my amusement at such a bold and misleading introduction.

'As always, everything done with subtlety,' I thought sarcastically, trying to catch my nephew's eye, who, I was sure, was struggling not to laugh out loud.

Watching Laenor soak in the nearly hysterical cheers of the crowd, thrilled to see their future king in the arena, I felt a brief moment of pity for his parents for having birthed such a complete idiot.

Thank the gods they had Laena.

At least she would give them a worthy heir…

'Or just an heir at all,' I thought, remembering he hadn't even managed to produce one for his house.

'To think House Velaryon was going to be usurped by a house as pathetic as House Fort, a family of peasants only a few generations back,' I thought inwardly, finding the situation ridiculous.

My mind was pulled from its thoughts when the herald quickly explained the rules one last time before asking us to take our positions in the arena.

Instinctively, I looked toward the Lord of House Lannister to see what he would do, and he didn't disappoint — he stayed at our side and nodded to me.

The Riverlands, led by the princess Rhaenyra's pup, naturally moved beside the knights of the Crownlands, silently signaling they were in the same camp and would form an alliance in this battle, despite Laenor's particularly indifferent demeanor, not even glancing at the man who would clearly act as his second-in-command in this fight.

But what truly surprised me was seeing that, just as my nephew had predicted, Borros Baratheon and Bryndon Hightower had formed an alliance.

'Just as he predicted — it will be a three-way battle to establish the sovereignty of the Greens, the Blacks, or Bronze,' I thought, a chill of excitement running through my entire body before vanishing as I closed my eyes to focus and clear away all distractions.

'Only one thing matters… victory,' I thought as I opened my eyes at the sound of the battle horn signaling the start of the melee.

---

-POV Alicent Hightower-

Watching the three camps charge at each other made me shiver slightly with terror, for even though fewer than a hundred knights stood in the arena, in less than a decade this battle could very well become reality.

'And then it won't be a hundred knights fighting for the honor of their lords, but perhaps a hundred thousand men… and a dozen dragons,' I thought.

A hand settled on mine, and I didn't need to turn my head to know it was my little man's.

I gently squeezed my son's fingers, not taking my eyes off the battle, as I didn't want to show all the vultures that I was weak and easily shaken.

It's my turn now.

It's up to me to guide our family through this fog of ash.

It's up to me to ensure each of us stays safe. No one else will end up like Father.

Instead of a standard three-way fight, I watched Laenor's knights slide to the side of the knights from the Vale and Bryndon.

Instead of engaging with the knights of the Westerlands led by their lord Jason Lannister, this forced Borros to slide as well and attack the Bronze Shields, who had shifted into a protective circle around their commander.

Very quickly, the 2v2v2 situation became 4v2, with three regions attacking the Bronze Shields simultaneously.

I frowned, for Aemon was not our enemy, and lately Bryndon had developed the unfortunate habit of pushing us into being one.

But the annoyance only lasted a moment, as I also understood Laenor's perspective.

'Since Aemon is too strong to be defeated fairly, let's unite to beat him, and decide the final winner afterward.'

This way of thinking wasn't new.

It was precisely what I had tried to do so many years ago — which ended up costing my brother his life.

'In this case, it's a good idea. But in the events to come, I won't take that risk,' I decided, briefly reminded of what it had cost me in the past.

'Whether years ago or even recently, becoming Aemon's enemy will do me no good — especially since he seems to control the North and the Iron Islands.'

The brief spark of rebellion that had flared in my eyes was immediately extinguished, and I squinted toward my brother, knowing I couldn't keep him safe from the Prince's wrath forever.

If he kept acting like this, then I might have to send him back to Oldtown.

'Or even cut him off completely.'

'Whatever happens, he will not become a threat to my children's future.'