Jaehaerys moved fast. Two masked assassins dropped before they could reach the girls. Red Rain sang as it cut through flesh and bone.
"Princess, stay with me!"
Marana was pale with terror, but she pulled Rhaenys down behind a stone table in the garden pavilion. Jaehaerys planted himself in front of them, keeping the killers at bay.
"Prince!"
"Hold on, Prince!"
Two Kingsguard came crashing through the hedges like a pair of angry bulls. Ser Arthur swung Dawn in wide, brutal arcs, cutting men in half at the waist. Ser Gerold, the White Bull, charged like a living battering ram, his Valyrian steel sword "Vigilance" smashing through shields and bodies alike.
One of the assassins recognized Arthur. "It's the Sword of the Morning!"
The name alone made several of them hesitate. That hesitation cost them their lives.
Within minutes the fight was over. Most of the attackers were dead. A few had slipped away into the garden's thick greenery.
Jaehaerys lowered his sword, breathing hard. "No need to chase them. Let them run. They'll lead us back to whoever sent them."
Ser Gerold wiped blood off his blade. "As you command, Prince."
Back at the banquet hall, Daeron returned after washing up. The atmosphere was thick with fear. No one had dared leave.
Valarr stood up the moment he saw the king. "Your Grace, I—"
"Sit down," Daeron said coldly. "From now on, you're going to learn when to keep your mouth shut."
Valarr sank back into his chair, face gray.
Daeron looked at the four remaining governors who had been at the table. "Take them. I want answers."
The Kingsguard moved at once. The four men were dragged out screaming, ropes already being tied around their wrists.
Valarr stayed where he was. Daeron glanced at him once. "You stay with me for now."
Valarr nodded quickly, relief and dread mixing on his face.
As they walked out past Ulf's body, Daeron allowed himself a small, satisfied smile. He had known about the plot for days. Varys's little birds had been busy in Lys, especially around Valarr's estate. Daeron had simply let the conspirators move forward until they exposed themselves.
Now he had the perfect excuse to tear the old power structure in Lys apart.
Tywin didn't waste time once he heard what had happened. By that afternoon he had already rounded up eight governors and dozens of nobles and wealthy merchants tied to the plot. Some were guilty. Some were only loosely connected. It didn't matter to him.
Eight governors stood on a wooden platform with nooses around their necks. Below them, a long row of kneeling nobles waited for the executioner's blade.
Valarr looked sick. "Lord Tywin, this is… excessive."
Tywin's pale green eyes were ice. "Eight governors tried to poison the king in front of witnesses. You want me to be gentle?"
Valarr had nothing to say.
Tywin raised his voice. "Hang them."
The platform dropped. Eight bodies jerked and twisted at the ends of their ropes.
The nobles below didn't last much longer. One by one their heads were taken. Blood ran across the stones in dark streams.
Word spread through Lys like wildfire. Houses were being broken into. Men and women were being dragged out into the streets. Even some brothels had been raided and their workers executed on suspicion of involvement. The city was in full panic.
Tyrion found Daeron later, pacing and agitated. "This is too much. My father is killing people who had nothing to do with it. Prostitutes, bed slaves, merchants who only paid taxes to the wrong man. If we keep this up, the people of Lys will never accept us."
Daeron looked up from the reports he was reading. "You think I'm being too harsh?"
"I think we're turning the entire city against us," Tyrion said. "We won. We don't need to burn everything to the ground."
Daeron leaned back in his chair. "Those men tried to poison me and send assassins after my brother. If they had succeeded, how many more people would have died in the war that followed? A thousand? Ten thousand?"
He met Tyrion's eyes. "To fix something that's broken, sometimes you have to break it worse first. Otherwise it just snaps back into place."
Tyrion was quiet for a long moment. Then he asked, "And after? When the fear fades?"
Daeron's smile was thin. "Then we'll see who's left standing. And we'll decide what comes next."