Ice and Fire: Reign of the Dragon.

Chapter 394 A Different Situation
In the throne room of King's Landing, the shadow of the Iron Throne looms over the kneeling traitors.

Daeron II sat on the ferocious throne made of black iron, gunpowder and conquest, his fingertips gently stroking the hilt of the Blackfire Sword, the Valyrian steel sword that symbolized the kingship still had darker lines after being burned by dragon flames. His eyes swept across the hall, and the lords who participated in the rebellion were chained and kneeling in a row, their coats of arms stripped off, leaving only dirty linen clothes.

Ringol Vareses sat on the obsidian throne left by Longzel next to the throne, still majestic.

"Harlon Peck." Darren's voice was eerily calm.

The traitor from the Reach raised his head. The golden rose emblem had been torn off, revealing the old scars underneath. "Your Majesty, are you going to do it yourself?" He grinned, with blood between his teeth. "I thought you would let the executioner--"

The moment the Blackfire Sword fell, Haron's head rolled down the stairs, and blood splattered on the face of Ambrose Bartwell who was kneeling beside him.

Darren did not wipe the blood off the sword, but just looked coldly at the next judge.

Ambrose Butterwell wiped the blood from his face and stood up trembling.

"Ambrose Butterwell, Earl of Whitewall." Ringol unfolded a scroll of parchment. "During the decisive battle, you led your army to turn against Daemon, killed 3,000 of Daemon's remaining troops, and beheaded the rebel Bracken in battle."

There were whispers in the hall. The rebellious princes who were chained in iron chains cast hateful glances at him. It was this man's betrayal that caused the Black Fire Alliance to be attacked from all sides. They could have dispersed some people, but now they completely collapsed.

"I'm just being loyal." Ambrose's voice became lower and lower.

"Loyal?" Brynden sneered. "Who swore fealty to Daemon at Harrenhal?"

Ambrose suddenly looked up, his eyes full of grievance. "Damon threatened us with a dragon, the Darry family and the Rostan family threatened us with force. Your Majesty, Prime Minister, the Bartwell family is just a milk seller. We are powerless to resist a real dragon, and I am loyal to a real dragon! When Damon's dragon is shot down, he is no longer a real dragon! The only real dragon in the world is your Majesty!"

Deathly silence enveloped the hall.

Count Lucas Rothstein and Count Darry stared at Count Ambrose Butterwell in despair and anger.

Lingol exchanged glances with the king and slowly announced: "Ambrose Bartwell, for his merit in restoring order, retains his title and territory, and grants the Rostan family three hunting grounds and a mill."

As the golden robe untied Ambrose's chains, the count staggered to his feet, his face a mixture of ecstasy and fear.

While the trial in the throne room continued.

In Maegon Targaryen's private study, Lady Elsa's crying was like a blunt knife cutting the air. This lady from the Redwyne family gave Maegon three sons and two daughters, and was no longer young. After learning about her son's foolish behavior from her sister-in-law, this lady with little presence rushed to King's Landing day and night until she saw her sons being escorted back.

"They are your flesh and blood!" She tugged at her husband's sleeve, her Arbor-style pearl crown tilted to one side, "Lehoga's body is burned, and Belron can't even remember his own name! What else do you want from them? They are still children!"

Outside the window, the evening bell of King's Landing was ringing. Maegon stood in the shadows, his violet eyes like two pieces of frozen lake ice. His eldest son, Rehogar, was lying on the bed in the corner, his skin still oozing pus and blood under the bandages; the second son, Baelon, was curled up by the fireplace, his fingers nervously digging at the patterns on the carpet, and he kept muttering: "The dragon fell down, and the sea smoke scales were like rain."

"Lehoga." Maegon suddenly spoke, his voice so cold that Elsa's crying stopped abruptly, "Why do you follow Daemon?"

The burned young man raised his head, his intact eye flashing with stubbornness. "Because... Blackfire is the orthodox Silver Dragon that usurped it."

"Legitimate? Legitimate bullshit!" Maegon grabbed the family tree parchment on the desk and smashed it on his son's face. "You have the blood of Aegon the Conqueror in your veins! Your grandfather is Prince Viserys! His Majesty the King is your legitimate and undoubted cousin, and you betrayed your family for a stolen sword?" Rehogar's lips trembled, but he could not make a sound.

"No. Steal."

"Shut up! You idiot!"

Megen turned to his second son. "Lehoga, you should at least protect your brother."

"So many dragons." Baelon grabbed his father's boots with a silly smile, "Cendros' tail is like a butterfly. Beautiful."

Elsa rushed over and hugged Maegon's legs. "Please send them back to Oldtown or even Dragon's Nest. Alessa. Alessa. Married to Osiris, she will take care of her brothers."

"Send it to be reused by the remnants of the Black Flame? Or let Vareses think that we don't want to take responsibility? Let our innocent daughter bear the guilt of these two fools?" Maegon pried open his wife's fingers and turned to Sir Galwyn Corbray at the door. "Good knight, tell your majesty my opinion. Send Rehogar to the Great Sept of St. Jacaerys to be guarded by the Silent Sisters and never step out of the monastery for the rest of his life. Baelon" He paused for a moment, his Adam's apple rolling, ". Send it to the Great Wall."

When Elsa fainted on the ground, Maegon bent down and picked up the pearl hair ornament that fell from her hair. At an angle invisible to everyone, he held the pearl tightly in his palm until the sharp edges of the jewelry pierced his flesh.

At the same time, in the courtyard of Dragon's Nest City, sunlight shone through the dome of the glass garden, reflecting colorful spots of light.

Jonel and Maegor Varese, the children of Daenerys, Igor's sister, and Basilon Stark, play by the fountain.

Jonniel, who inherited his father's brown hair and gray eyes, wielded an unsharpened dagger in his hand, imitating the movements of his uncle Igor. "I am a dragon rider!" he shouted, chasing after his sister.

Maege, who inherited her mother Valyria's appearance, ran faster than her brother. "You can't catch me! Stupid Jonil, I'm faster!" She laughed and hid behind the fountain, splashing water on her skirt.

There were a few children playing and fighting in the garden. Reagon's eldest son, Lucerys Vareses, and second son, Seneoel Vareses, were being trained as dragon riders, preparing to tame Moon Dance or Serelia. The two boys with silver-gold hair and blue eyes had a good understanding with the two dragons. The youngest son, Aslan Vareses, and daughter, Adele Vareses, were having a great time playing with Jonil and Maggie.

Sebastian's son, little Valar, was also sitting on the grass, watching his brothers and sisters, uncles and aunts playing and giggling.

Their mother Daenerys sat under the arbor, smiling at the children, holding a banner embroidered with a dire wolf and a silver dragon - the joint family emblem of Stark and Varese.

Basilon Stark walked over from the training ground, his tall figure blocking the sunlight. "A letter came from King's Landing," he whispered, "The war in Westeros is over, and the traitors in the conquered lands were defeated by my mother's dragon."

Daenerys' smile faded slightly, but soon returned to normal. "Then let our children smile a little longer," she said softly. "Their happiness is more precious than anything else."

Joniel ran over and threw himself into his father's arms. "When will uncle come back?" he asked, looking up.

Basilone ruffled his son's brown hair. "When he finishes judging the sinners, he will come back to teach you how to ride a dragon."

Maggie hugged her father's legs, her eyes sparkling. "I want to learn too!"

In the courtyard, laughter still rang out.

(End of this chapter)