A massive black dragon skull hung upon a gallows frame.
Tyrion the Imp stood beneath it, staring blankly at the enormous head.
'Did this skull belong to Silverwing? Or Seasmoke?' Even Tyrion, who was obsessed with dragons, could no longer remember.
For some reason, he felt genuine regret over Viserys's death.
At this very moment, he even had a strong urge to travel to Gohor himself.
"Kill him! Kill him!"
"Good!"
The sounds of combat and cheers echoed endlessly around him.
Tyrion turned around.
Robert Baratheon the First had once again stumbled into good fortune.
If Doran had used banquets to conceal the news of Viserys's death from his daughter—
Then Robert had simply hosted an enormous tournament to announce to the entire realm that the damned ghost named Viserys had finally died.
"Lift your lance higher! Higher! You idiot! Weren't you strong enough when stabbing Tully men?!"
Robert sat atop the viewing platform roaring at the knights in the lists, venting his joy without restraint.
To fully celebrate his happiness, he had even invited his usually unwelcome younger brother Stannis to join the festivities celebrating Viserys's death.
But Stannis deeply disliked Robert's behavior.
He thought it was disgraceful.
Still, after repeated persuasion from his wife Selyse, Stannis reluctantly accepted the invitation.
However, he had already decided that once the tournament ended, he would personally advise Robert against continuing such excesses.
The treasury had already been drained by fleet construction and attempts to hire the Faceless Men.
If Robert continued throwing celebrations without restraint, the kingdom's finances might never recover.
Yet...
Stannis glanced toward the man sitting beside Robert.
The envoy from Braavos.
He was the one who had delivered the news of Viserys's death.
Apparently, he was also encouraging Robert to launch an invasion against Gohor.
Such an expedition would only worsen the already disastrous royal finances.
Stannis intended to oppose it.
"Oh! That's it! That's it!"
Robert shouted excitedly from the stands, practically wishing he could enter the field himself.
Because of Viserys's existence over the past few years, Robert had not become as enormously obese as he had in the original timeline.
In fact, he had wanted to compete personally today.
But Jon Arryn had sternly forbidden it.
"Your Majesty's knights are truly mighty," said Coren flatteringly. "If the Targaryens hadn't fled to Gohor, their heads would already have rolled by now."
"Hmph. Without dragons, the Targaryens are nothing," Robert sneered.
"One day I'll personally rip off the heads of Rhaegar's two whelps."
Robert accepted Coren's flattery completely.
Beside him, Cersei held the still-swaddled Tommen in her arms and shot Robert a glance full of disdain.
As Freygo's nephew, Coren was already very experienced in this kind of diplomatic manipulation.
That was precisely why the task of maintaining contact with House Baratheon had fallen to him.
It was not that Braavos intended to attack Gohor immediately.
The current Gohor was far stronger, wealthier, and more militarily powerful than it had been years ago.
What Braavos truly wanted was for Robert to pardon some Westerosi exiles.
For example, the Golden Company.
Weakening the Targaryens indirectly would already be beneficial enough.
"Now that Viserys is dead," Coren said carefully, "suppressing the remaining dragonspawn still won't be easy. Has Your Majesty considered the matter of pardons I mentioned earlier?"
Robert let out a cold laugh.
"Treason is punishable by death. There will be no pardons."
Compromising with Dorne and even Highgarden had already pushed Robert to his limit.
If he also forgave those petty nobles who openly defied him, then what was even the point of sitting the Iron Throne?
"Unless..." Robert turned toward Coren.
"Unless the Targaryens abandon their claim to the Iron Throne."
The moment Coren heard that condition, his entire expression changed.
If the Targaryens abandoned the Iron Throne, then they would truly root themselves permanently in Essos.
Right now, most powers among the Free Cities tolerated the Targaryens for one simple reason—
They all believed that sooner or later, Viserys would attempt to reclaim the Iron Throne.
Eventually, House Targaryen's center of power would shift toward Westeros rather than Essos.
Even if the Targaryens initially retained control over Gohor, its importance would naturally decline over time.
It would transform from a homeland into an overseas territory.
And overseas territories were always difficult to govern.
Ten or twenty years later, perhaps Gohor would eventually break away from Targaryen control altogether.
That possibility was their greatest hope.
But if the Targaryens abandoned Westeros entirely and focused fully upon developing Essos...
Coren had already investigated Aegon and Aemon.
Neither possessed Viserys's overwhelming brilliance, but both were clearly excellent heirs.
For the next thirty years, every Free City might end up kneeling beneath the Targaryen throne.
Robert had casually spoken a single sentence, yet it completely trapped Coren.
There was no way he could openly support the Targaryens here.
As for Robert himself—
If Braavos intended to exploit the opportunity and attack Gohor, Robert certainly would not object to joining in.
"Lord Coren," Robert continued, "when you return to the Free Cities, I intend to send someone with you."
"I need confirmation that this bastard truly turned to ash in the flames."
Naturally, Coren had no reason to refuse.
Freygo himself had even planned to attend Viserys's funeral personally under the guise of offering condolences.
"Of course, Your Majesty. Whom do you intend to send?"
Robert swept his gaze across the gathered nobles.
"Your Majesty, allow me to go!" Renly eagerly stood and volunteered.
As expected, Robert rejected him immediately.
Not just Renly.
He would not even permit Stannis to go.
After all, they were Baratheons. If they traveled there, there was a good chance they would never return.
"Your Majesty, permit me to make the journey on your behalf."
Barristan of the Kingsguard suddenly stepped forward and requested the mission.
Robert merely glanced at him before ignoring the suggestion completely.
If he sent Barristan, it would probably be like throwing meat to a hungry dog.
At that moment, Robert suddenly realized a flaw within the Kingsguard system itself.
Kingsguard knights abandoned their family names and produced no heirs.
When the realm remained united, they could devote themselves entirely to serving the royal family.
But once rival regimes appeared, they could simply walk away without hesitation.
Then Robert noticed Tyrion still standing there staring blankly at the dragon skull.
"Hey, dwarf!" Robert shouted.
But Tyrion failed to react.
"Lord Tyrion," Littlefinger reminded him politely, having already inherited the position of Master of Coin.
"His Majesty is calling for you."
"Oh, Your Majesty, apologies," Tyrion replied. "I was just imagining myself riding a dragon through the skies."
Robert burst into laughter.
"I want you to accompany this Lord Coren to Gohor."
"I want you to... personally witness Viserys turning into ashes."
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