Chapter 223 - After the War (IV)

"Fate has merely declared your death; you have the option to refuse, but most fail to fight against their own destiny. A destiny meant for the weak without willpower." Aenar Targaryen.

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Hoster Tully looked at the gates of the Hall of a Hundred Hearths and slowed his pace with heavy steps, his hands were chained and he could not escape. He wanted to run, entering the hall was tantamount to declaring that his House would be destroyed, that it would have an even worse reputation than House Frey.

No noble house would marry his descendants, no noble house would do business with his descendants, not even the Iron Bank would lend money to his descendants.

The Tully House would truly be finished at that moment.

However, his weak and frail body was pushed forward by the Lady Commander of the Royal Guard, Leda Dayne.

"My master is waiting, move along, you worm." Leda spoke in a cold and indifferent tone. She felt no remorse for doing such a thing to a helpless old man.

Under Hoster's desperate gaze, he entered the Hall of a Hundred Hearths in Harrenhal. Just as he had expected, the entire place was filled with lords and ladies, all eyes fixed on him.

There were all kinds of looks, rejoicing, disdain, contempt, and sympathy.

Hoster trembled as he felt the stares. To him, they were all hyenas, all wanting a piece of House Tully. However, he couldn't stop anything, for he was helpless and powerless. Not even his former vassals could help him at that moment.

Hoster's blue eyes fell on the black stone throne, seated on which the young king was dressed exquisitely in purple and red, a Valyrian steel crown studded with rubies visible beneath his hair.

Next to the stone throne, a delicate throne could be seen, on which sat a graceful and beautiful young woman.

Aenar I and Visenya II.

"Kneel." Aenar looked at the old man and said in a calm and stern tone.

Even though he didn't want to, Hoster was forced to kneel by Leda, who was not gentle at all, as the sound of bones breaking echoed particularly loud inside the hall.

"Argh." A groan escaped Hoster's lips, but no one felt sorry for him.

"Hoster Tully, Lord of House Tully and Lord Paramount of the Trident, you are charged with high treason, conspiracy, and mass murder." Aenar wasted no time and began the trial.

"Do you plead guilty?" The purple eyes looked at the old man kneeling before him with a hint of amusement. He knew what was about to happen, but he allowed it to happen anyway, as it would benefit him.

"I am innocent." When Hoster said this, the eyes of many nobles turned to the Lord of Riverrun with unexpected looks.

In their eyes, as long as Hoster pleaded guilty, the king would do nothing to House Tully. After all, it had been almost four hundred years since a Great House had been destroyed, and when it happened, there had been chaos everywhere, with everyone wanting to take the place of the destroyed Great House.

When House Gardner was destroyed and all its descendants killed in the Field of Fire, all the other houses, such as Redwyne and Hightower, hoped that they would be chosen to be Lord Paramount of the Mander, as they were blood relatives of House Gardner. But instead, Aegon chose a servant of House Gardner as Lord Paramount.

This caused so much chaos that Aegon had to endure years of the noble houses of the Reach asking the king to choose someone else.

So, in the eyes of these nobles, as long as Hoster pleaded guilty, House Tully would still live. But at this moment, no one felt anger at the disrespectful words to the king; they looked excited.

It was the chance they wanted.

What they coveted was the title of Lord Paramount of the Trident!

"I want a trial by combat." Ignoring the pain in his broken knees, Hoster spoke in a hoarse, weak voice, but his eyes were brighter than ever. He knew more than anyone else about his crimes, so he used the trick that every noble used when in danger.

Aenar smiled and rested his head on his hand as he looked around as if watching an entertaining show. Trial by combat? He liked this kind of thing better, because he simply couldn't lose.

"If you insist, Lord Tully, so be it." Aenar spoke, and everyone heard him clearly. "We will have a trial by combat!"

"Who will represent me in combat is Leda Dayne, Lady Commander of the Royal Guard." Aenar spoke again and declared the anticipated death of Hoster or his representative. There was not a single man present who could duel with Leda.

The fight would be like an adult fighting a baby.

However, while everyone was murmuring about the King's choice of a woman, Hoster faced a big problem.

He looked around at everyone present, searching for someone who could represent him, but when his gaze fell on a person, that person quickly looked away, as if they did not see him.

For ten long minutes, no one came forward to represent Hoster, showing that no one really wanted to help the Lord of Riverrun. Especially the lords of the Riverlands, they wanted Hoster to die as soon as possible so that they could have a chance to inherit the title of Lord Paramount of the Trident.

"I will represent Lord Tully!" As soon as the voice rang out, everyone looked in disbelief at the brave man. However, when they saw who it was, they understood perfectly why.

Edmure Tully, wearing armor bearing the sigil of House Tully. After all, it was more than normal for a son to try to save his father, and they could respect that.

However, they soon noticed the trembling legs of the heir to Riverrun. Some laughed, but others looked at Edmure with admiration. Even though he was afraid, the man actually dared to step forward, which earned him the respect of many in the hall.

Even Eddard, who watched everything coldly, couldn't help but look at Edmure with more respect. He could respect his son's sacred duty to protect his father in his old age.

However, while everyone was admiring Edmure's choice to defend his father, Hoster Tully himself looked desperate. How could he not know his son's abilities?

"We don't need to go to the arena, let's hold the trial here and now." Aenar spoke in a calm tone while Leda stood with her back to the throne. The Hall of Harrenhal was more than enough space for a duel.

With a cold, sharp sound, Dawn left its sheath and seemed to glow with a milky light. Anyone could see that this was an extraordinary sword.

This was no lie; after all, it was a sword that had existed for more than ten millennia.

When the sword left its sheath, exclamations of admiration and respect rang out from the audience.

Edmure swallowed hard and felt his legs tremble, terror coursing through his body, preventing him from moving.

Seeing the scene, Hoster simply closed his eyes and waited for death, but he couldn't bear to see his son die before him.

Drawing the sword, Edmure took a deep breath and walked cautiously toward Leda. With each step he took, his breathing quickened as sweat ran down his face.

Leda couldn't help but look bored; the man in front of her didn't even know how to control his breathing, something basic for any knight trained since childhood.

Just as Leda was about to use a little force against Edmure, the king's voice reached her ears. "Use all your strength and kill him with one blow, show your strength for all to see."

At that moment, Leda changed, her aura changed, her cold expression became sharp and keen. The hands holding the sword hilt became extraordinarily firm. Her muscles contracted and became firm and hard.

In the next second, Leda appeared behind Edmure. There was no sound of pain or anything else.

A thin red line appeared on Edmure's forehead, and in an instant, his body split in two. The two halves of his body fell on opposite sides as blood and internal organs scattered across the floor.

Edmure didn't even know when he died; he felt no pain or anything else. It could be said that Leda was so fast that it took his brain some time to realize that he was already dead.

An eerie silence prevailed in the Hall of a Hundred Hearths. When Leda sheathed her sword, everyone awoke from their stupor.

The sound of vomiting could be heard as sounds of swallowing echoed throughout the room. As the lords looked at Leda, there was no more contempt for her being a woman, there was only fear and terror in the face of the humanoid monster that was Leda Dayne.

Suddenly, Aenar began to clap his hands, making the atmosphere even more strange and frightening, but would the nobles dare to let the king applaud alone?

The answer was no, so even though they showed fake and strange smiles, the entire room was filled with applause.

Hoster looked at the two halves of his son with tears streaming down his face. Although Edmure was a useless and incompetent son, he was still the son he had carried in his arms as a child, helped train, and even taught to ride. The feelings between father and son were deep, how could he not cry at that moment?

"The gods have decided, Hoster Tully is found guilty!"

"House Tully will no longer be the Lord Paramount of the Trident."

"All possessions of House Tully will be used as compensation."

"House Tully will be reduced to commoner status and will no longer be allowed to use its coat of arms and ancestral motto."

"As your king, I order Eddard of House Stark to sentence the guilty party to death by beheading." Aenar's words rang out without delay, directly declaring Hoster Tully's death at the hands of Eddard.

Leda placed a wooden log on the floor, curiously placing it between the two halves of Edmure's cup, on top of the pool of blood and internal organs.

Visenya, who watched everything, rolled her eyes at the woman's childishness, but she knew that this was her way of getting revenge on Hoster. After all, Hoster had waged the war that killed Arthur.

"Husband, remember to control Leda's temper at official events," Visenya whispered to Aenar, but with Leda's senses, she heard every word perfectly.

Leda looked at the queen with helplessness and betrayal. She had obviously warned Visenya about Arianne, but instead of being praised, she was scolded by the queen.

"What a sad world where loyalty is rewarded with ingratitude." Although she thought this, she did not dare to speak aloud. She knew very well that Visenya and Aenar could torture her mentally every night.

"Don't worry, we can torture her mentally every night after our wedding."

Aenar whispered to Visenya in an amused and teasing tone, knowing that Leda could hear him, but he spoke anyway.

Hearing Aenar's words, she understood perfectly what he meant, and Visenya's cheeks turned a lovely shade of red. Leda was not surprised to hear the king's words; she knew him very well.

While the three joked, the atmosphere could not have been more tense. Leda forced Hoster's head against the wooden trunk and nodded to Eddard.

Taking a deep breath, Eddard spoke aloud as he held the ancestral sword of House Stark with both hands and raised it to his shoulder.

"I, Eddard of House Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North."

"In the name of King Aenar, first of his name, King of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm. I declare you dead for treason."

"Last words, Hoster Tully?" Eddard asked in a cold tone.

However, Hoster just stared at Eddard with a blank, lost look, without even the force to speak.

Seeing this, Eddard waited no longer and lowered his sword.

Spleshhhh!!!!

The sound of splashing rang out loudly and the head of Hoster Tully, Lord of Riverrun and Lord Paramount of the Trident, separated from his body.

Aenar clapped his hands again with a calm look, though his lips were curved into a smile. All the nobles followed Aenar's gestures and began to clap.

"The first is dead, now there are two left," Aenar muttered as he thought of Tywin and Robert.

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