34. Betrayal

Stannon's hand stopped over the plate as his mind raced. The strange feeling from his Lightning Reflexes was something he couldn't ignore—it had saved his life before. Slowly, he curled his fingers and pulled back as if he had just changed his mind about the food. Instead, he reached for his goblet, bringing it to his lips but not drinking. He used the moment to observe.

Monford's eyes flickered, and his fingers tightened slightly around his own cup. It was subtle, but Stannon noticed the tension in his jaw. The Lord of Driftmark was watching him too closely. Stannon's gaze moved across the table, taking in the expressions of the nobles and guards. Most seemed unaware of anything unusual, but two of Monford's attendants stood unnaturally still, their eyes darting between him and the plate.

'So, I was right,' Stannon thought. 'Someone wants me dead.'

But was it Monford? Or was someone using him?

Monford leaned forward, his polite smile still in place. "You seem hesitant, my prince. Is something wrong?"

Stannon met his gaze and smirked. "Not at all, Lord Monford." He glanced at his plate, then at Monford's. "In some places, it is a custom to share meals as a sign of trust. Would you do me the honor of trying the first bite?"

The room grew quiet. Monford's smile didn't fade, but Stannon noticed a shift in his expression—he was thinking fast.

As Stannon suggested that Monford take a bite from his plate, the room grew tense. Before Monford could answer, two attendants serving the food suddenly attacked Stannon. They had been pretending to be harmless, but now they revealed hidden knives and aimed straight for his throat. Their movements were quick and precise—this was not a desperate attack, but a well-planned assassination.

Stannon reacted immediately. As the first attendant lunged, Stannon's hand moved to his belt, where laid a hidden knife gifted to him by Jaime. In one swift motion, he pulled it free and slashed upward, cutting deep into the attacker's wrist. The man gasped in pain, but Stannon didn't stop—he stepped forward and drove the blade into the assassin's throat. Blood sprayed as the man collapsed.

The second assassin tried to take advantage of the moment and went for Stannon's ribs, but he was ready. Twisting his body, he dodged the attack and grabbed the assassin's arm. With a brutal yank, he pulled the man forward and stabbed his knife into the attacker's chest, pushing it in up to the hilt. The assassin gasped and staggered back before falling lifeless to the ground. Their plan had failed—Stannon was not an easy target.

At that moment, Monford's two guards, who had been standing nearby, had already reached for their weapons, their eyes locked onto Stannon. But before they could act, Ragnok and Hilda, who had been silently watching over Stannon, jumped into action. Ragnok, strong as always, charged into one of the guards, sending him crashing near the banquet table. Hilda, quick and deadly, fought the other guard.

The fight quickly turned chaotic. The guard who was sent crashing near the banquet table saw a chance and pulled out a small throwing knife . With a quick motion, he threw it straight at Stannon's head. The knife cut through the air, moving at deadly speed. But before it could hit him, Stannon's Lightning Reflexes kicked in. With a slight tilt of his head, the knife missed him by mere inches, flying past and sticking into the wooden wall behind him.

Stannon wasted no time. The moment the knife missed him, he sprang into action, closing the distance between him and the guard who had thrown it. The man was still recovering from his failed attack, scrambling to pull another weapon free. But Stannon was faster. His knife, still dripping with blood, flashed in the dim candlelight as he drove it straight into the man's throat. A wet gurgle escaped the guard's lips as he collapsed, clutching at the wound, but Stannon was already moving. He wiped the blade clean on the fallen man's tunic, his movements methodical and unhurried.

Stannon didn't feel much after killing the three men. It wasn't his first time, after all. With these three, he had now killed 37 people—a big number for someone his age. But it wasn't really his fault. Every single one of them had come to kill him first.

He still remembered his first kill clearly. He had been only thirteen, just a boy, when he was forced to take a life to save his own. The sight of blood, the lifeless body, and the awful smell had made him sick. He had felt disgusted and horrified, but he knew he had no choice. If he wanted to survive, he had to get used to it.

Now, after so many kills, the diagust and shock had faded. He had learned to do what was necessary to stay alive.

The room was eerily silent now, the only sounds the uneven breathing of those still standing and the distant echo of waves outside. It had all happened in less than a minute—perhaps even less than half a minute. The assassins were dead. The guards were dead too. The attempt on his life had failed spectacularly.

Stannon turned his gaze to Monford Velaryon, who now sat frozen in his seat. The Lord of Driftmark was pale, beads of sweat dripping down his temples as his hands trembled against the arms of his chair.

Ragnok and Hilda, both unharmed, took their places at Stannon's side, their weapons still drawn. Hilda wiped her blade on her sleeve before fixing Monford with a look of pure contempt.

Stannon stepped forward, his voice cutting through the silence like a blade as he used his Persuasion skill in full throttle. "No unnecessary movements. Answer my questions directly. Every time you lie or waste my time, you lose a limb. Nod if you understand."

Monford hesitated for only a moment before jerking his head in a frantic nod. His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, his hands clenching into fists.

"Who is behind this?" Stannon demanded. "And why did you go along with their plan?"

Monford took a shaky breath. "The Lannisters," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "They have my wife and son. They are being held… as leverage. I had no choice. They forced my hand."

Stannon narrowed his eyes. He had suspected as much, but hearing it confirmed made his blood boil. The Lannisters—always scheming, always manipulating. He turned the knife slowly in his hand, considering his next words carefully.

"What is their plan?" he asked.

Monford swallowed again, his hands now trembling slightly. "To surround Hightide and kill you if the poison failed," he confessed. "One of the guards you killed was supposed to send a raven to Driftmark every fifteen minutes. He sent one five minutes ago. If another message isn't sent in the next ten minutes, the forces waiting in Driftmark will take it as a sign that something has gone wrong and will move to surround Hightide immediately."

'The assassin mustn't be the only way. They definitely have more backup singnal senders somewhere in the castle and more of the Lannister's people might have infiltrated the guards and the docks. Thankfully the door of the hall is closed and no noise was made while subduing the attackers,' Stannon concluded as he processed the information swiftly.

He too had his own spies on Driftmark, but none of them had reported any unusual movements. Either they had been compromised, or the Lannisters had taken action only after the last raven was sent by one of his spies—after the bastard of Driftmark had found the dragon egg. Moreover Stannon even had used Warging earlier but found nothing suspicious, which either meant that the attackers are hiding in basement of ships or in the houses.

It was a decent plan, well thought out. They had used one of the few things Stannon truly needed against him. And the dragon egg had been real, a perfect lure to bring him into this trap. But Stannon felt that there was more to it as Tywin wouldn't let any loose ends.

Stannon exhaled slowly, his mind working through the layers of deception. "How many men are waiting on Driftmark?" he asked.

"At least hundred, perhaps more," Monford said quickly. "All loyal to the Lannisters. If they suspect anything, they will act without hesitation. Also the path to the King's landing may have already be blocked by them."

Stannon knew he didn't have much time left as he had to be quick in whatever he needed to do.

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