Eddard Stark left with Jon Snow-Stark after giving their thanks, leaving only Gendry and Daenerys in the bedchamber.
Now that the truth had been spoken, everyone had their own choice to make.
"Snow-Stark is not bad," Daenerys Targaryen said with a sigh. "This way, he will not stand in the way of our power, or our children's."
It was Jon's own choice, and there was nothing to fault in it.
Gendry looked at his wife. Daenerys was not old, but she had good judgment, and she still cared about appearances.
Blood was blood, and power was power.
"His position was too awkward. This is best for everyone," Gendry said.
Jon Snow-Stark was at a disadvantage in both looks and temperament, and Westerosi cared greatly about appearance.
Jon's looks could only be called average. Back in the day, Theon had been one of the more handsome boys at Winterfell. Jon's gray-eyed, long-faced Stark features had allowed him to remain hidden until now, but he was far from Rhaegar's handsome, melancholy beauty.
As for his temperament, that gloomy face full of hardship and resentment was not exactly endearing.
"I do feel some pity for him. But whenever I think of Princess Martell's children, I still cannot let it go entirely," Daenerys said with a nod.
Tens of thousands had died for the false spring, and for a mistaken love.
Because of Jon's awkward identity, hatred had already been drawn to him by nature.
Back then, after Lyanna disappeared, Brandon Stark led men to the Red Keep to demand her return.
Then the Mad King killed Brandon and his companions, Kyle Royce, Elbert Arryn, and Joffrey Mallister. Brandon's father, Great Lord Rickard, died there as well.
Only Ethan Glover was lucky enough to survive. Later, the war grew larger and larger, and the worst fate fell upon Elia and her children, who were held hostage by the Mad King.
"And Jon seems somewhat gloomy," Gendry said.
Daenerys nodded. "I heard Lady Catelyn was very wary of him, and he is rather brooding. Lord Eddard Stark's lie was very successful."
"But my brother, Prince Rhaegar, betrayed his marriage and his duty. He went after Lyanna..." Daenerys recalled. "Ser Barristan said he had a sense of doom about him. He was born amid sorrow, and a shadow hung over him all his life."
Gendry found both Rhaegar and Lyanna rather strange. One had a betrothal, while the other had a wife and two children.
In Westeros, betrothals and inheritance rights were difficult to strip away, and even harder to dissolve. Aside from prophecy, perhaps only true love could have driven them mad.
Robert, though lustful, had at least been unmarried, and overall, he did not seem quite so absurd. But the Dragon and the Rose had gone straight to something enormous.
The last time a Targaryen broke faith with a Baratheon, it had led to the Laughing Storm's rebellion, and Rhaegar had provoked Robert in turn. After Harrenhal, Robert was humiliated, and from that day on, he bore deep hatred for Rhaegar.
Gendry nodded. "The shadow of Summerhall."
Gendry suspected that Rhaegar had guessed something. Prophecies such as "the dragon has three heads," "the prince that was promised," and "the child of ice and fire" had once circulated among the Targaryens, and Rhaegar himself had been obsessed with mysticism.
"Prophecies and dreams. He destroyed himself," Daenerys said with a bitter sigh.
"Lyanna was only sixteen when she died, still a girl with a child's heart. And my brother... my brother was much older than that girl."
In terms of age, Rhaegar had clearly held more power and therefore bore the greater responsibility.
"The past is past. From now on, and as far as the past is concerned, he is not your brother's son. He chose to become a Stark's son." Gendry held Daenerys's hand.
Eddard Stark's mouth was iron. He could keep silent for decades.
As for Jon, though the boy had some cunning, Eddard had raised him to respect honor, and to treat oaths as heavy as a thousand pounds.
"Mm..." Daenerys leaned into her lover's arms. "Let us focus on the tourney. The knights will gain honor, and the people will gain joy."
"Forget that damned past. Our history is a new chapter..."
"The old are gone, and the new have taken the stage."
Of the four great figures of the Usurper's War, only Eddard, blessed with a stubborn life, remained. Jon Arryn, Hoster Tully, and Robert Baratheon were all dead.
And the newcomers were stepping into the light.
...
The great doors of the royal armory rumbled open. Gendry led a group of attendants inside.
King Robert's legacy of daggers, swords, bows, and crossbows lay spread throughout the place, each one a first-rate weapon.
To prepare the tourney properly, Gendry wandered among them, choosing prizes for the event.
"There are plenty of fine things here, but unfortunately, nothing truly outstanding," Gendry thought.
The finest weapons were Valyrian steel, dragonbone bows, and weapons with a touch of magical runes, but truly exceptional weapons did not circulate on the market.
Many of the items in the armory were choice pieces from King Robert's collection. There were more than a hundred daggers alone, but they were all gathering dust.
Over the past dozen years, the envoys of foreign lands had learned the King's tastes. Each visit, they presented jeweled daggers and silver-inlaid swords.
"Found it," Anguy the Archer said excitedly. "This is King Robert's dagger. After the King died, the Lannisters threw it in here."
Gendry examined it. The dagger's blade was made of fine steel. One side of the grip bore a blue diamond falcon, the other a black-and-gold stag, and the pommel was sapphire.
"My father loved daggers, but in his life, he only ever used one. Great Lord Jon Arryn gave it to him when he was a boy." Gendry carefully put the dagger away, though it was not especially striking among all the rare treasures from overseas.
When it came to affection and loyalty, Robert was rather interesting. He never forgot the things he cared about.
Of course, Gendry thought women were the exception. Robert's longing for Lyanna may have been a kind of madness. Whenever things went badly with Cersei, he would return to the past.
"Each of you may choose a weapon as well. A dagger or a sword," Gendry said.
These things were splendid, but dust was still dust.
Besides, to celebrate Gendry's coronation, the foreign lands had sent this new King, whose name shook the seas, a great wave of even more ornate and beautiful weapons. These old ones could serve perfectly well as rewards.
Gendry's attendants, Anguy the Archer, Lothor Brune, Harrold, Robar Royce, and Jon Snow-Stark, all received a share.
So did Guyard Morrigen, Ser Rolland Storm, Timett of the wildlings, Grey Worm of Astapor's Unsullied, Ser Boggs, commander of the Gold Cloaks, Handsome Man from across the Narrow Sea, Fletcher, Grey Wolf, and the others. All the expense here was borne by Gendry.
Gendry had originally intended to pick two weapons suited for women, but then he considered that both Dacey and the Tarth girl were over six feet tall, both large-framed female warriors. It was better to let them choose whichever weapons they liked.
"Long live King Gendry, Your Grace!" Anguy shouted happily. He had already had his eye on a dagger.
That precious dagger had a gilded blade, an ivory grip, and a sapphire pommel. At a glance, it was clearly a rare treasure from overseas.
It was the one Gerion Lannister had given Robert as a wedding gift. Gendry felt unlucky as soon as he saw it. Since Anguy liked it, he let him take it away.
"You are not choosing a bow?" Gendry asked Anguy, puzzled.
"There is no bow in the world better than a dragonbone bow, Your Grace. And I like making my own arrows. But as for daggers, I do not have a good one," Anguy said with an embarrassed smile.
Aside from these men, the important ministers of the Small Council and Gendry's kin, such as Mychel and Edric Baratheon, also received corresponding rewards.
"What the children want can wait until next time," Gendry thought. He had arranged a different order for them.
Gendry's gaze passed over everyone. Anguy with hair red as fire, Harry the Arse with blond hair and blue eyes, Jon with his gray-eyed long face, the silent and powerful Lothor, the quiet but grateful Unsullied, and Rolland, whose face had been scarred by greyscale.
These laughing knights and warriors were one of the foundations on which he fought across the known world.
Like a rising tide, he would lead these newcomers to create still greater glory and reach for even higher power.