Chapter 207 — Go Take a Look Up There
The moment Janos Slynt's words fell, the air in the hall seemed to freeze.
The fire in the brazier crackled softly.
The only sound was Balon Greyjoy's heavy breathing, rough with pain.
---
"What nonsense are you talking about?!"
After a long moment of silence, a furious roar finally shattered the stillness.
A second earlier, Ser Manly Stokeworth had looked completely defeated.
Now he exploded forward like a released spring.
All the anger he had been suppressing—the humiliation of losing his command, the frustration with nowhere to vent it—burst out at once.
"Say that again, you bastard!"
He lunged at Janos, grabbing him by the throat with both hands.
His eyes were bloodshot, bulging with rage like those of a wounded beast.
"What the hell do you mean—Balman Byrch killed his wife?!"
"Say it again!"
Despite being forty years old, Manly was still a seasoned knight.
His strength was terrifying.
Veins bulged on his arms as he squeezed Janos's neck.
Janos's face turned crimson. He managed only a strangled gasp—
"Ghk—!"
No more words came out.
---
At that moment, a large, long-fingered hand clasped Manly's wrist.
With effortless ease, the grip on Janos's throat was broken.
"Enough, Ser Manly."
Lance's voice was calm.
Not loud.
Not angry.
But the pressure within it snapped Manly back to reality.
He suddenly remembered exactly who he was standing before.
---
"Ha… ha…"
Janos collapsed to his knees, gasping desperately for air.
"Stand up," Lance ordered curtly.
His gaze shifted toward Janos.
"Explain everything from the beginning."
"Y–Yes… Your Highness!"
Still clutching his aching throat, Janos scrambled to his feet.
He cast a wary glance at Manly, his heart still pounding.
Good thing the Prince Regent didn't accept that duel earlier…
Damn that Manly Stokeworth. The man's strength is insane.
I was struggling with everything I had, but his hands felt like iron.
---
"This is what happened, Your Highness."
Janos cleared his raw throat and began speaking rapidly, as if conducting an official report.
"After returning home, Ser Balman Byrch discovered that his wife, Lady Falyse Stokeworth…"
"…had hidden a man in the house."
---
"Bullshit!"
Manly exploded again before Janos could continue.
"My daughter, Falyse!"
"She is a noble lady—pure, well-educated, raised with proper manners!"
"She would never do something like that in her own home!"
"But that's the truth."
Seeing Manly's hand gripping his sword hilt as if ready to cut him down, Janos wasn't particularly afraid.
After all—
The Prince Regent was here.
Which meant he was perfectly safe.
Just as expected, the white-armored knight stepped forward and faced Manly directly.
"You are no longer the Commander of the City Watch, Ser Manly."
His voice carried a clear warning.
"Out of respect for the fact that the victim was your daughter, I will allow you to remain here and listen."
"But if you interrupt Captain Janos's report again…"
"You will be removed from this hall immediately."
---
Manly froze.
Every word Lance spoke struck his already fragile nerves.
The half-drawn sword reflected the flickering firelight.
A crushing sense of helplessness washed over him.
The madness in his eyes faded, replaced by hollow grief.
---
Janos ignored him and continued his report.
"When Ser Balman discovered his wife's affair, he drew his sword and fought the man."
"He was ambushed and stabbed in the thigh."
"However, he managed to hold his ground with superior swordsmanship."
"But according to his statement, during the fight Lady Falyse…"
Janos hesitated slightly.
"…struck her husband on the shoulder with a vase."
"This caused him to lose his balance, and the opponent stabbed him again in the arm."
"Enraged, Ser Balman struck his wife in the head with his elbow."
"…but he didn't expect—"
Janos stopped speaking.
The hall fell silent again.
Meanwhile, Manly's eyes were blood-red.
He had been married for over twenty years.
And had only one child.
Falyse.
Now she was dead.
Killed by her own husband.
His son-in-law.
Unforgivable.
---
"Your Highness, I demand Balman—"
"I know you're upset," Lance interrupted calmly.
"But wait."
He turned back to Janos.
"Where is Ser Balman now?"
"I've already sent him to Maester Qyburn for treatment, Your Highness."
Janos answered promptly.
"He was severely wounded. His attacker's weapon appeared to be coated with poison."
"He only managed to explain the basic situation before losing consciousness."
Notably, Janos avoided emphasizing Balman's killing of his wife.
Instead, his report subtly portrayed Balman as the victim.
Even though Balman had admitted killing Falyse himself, Janos had still arranged treatment for him immediately.
After all—
Everyone knew that Ser Balman Byrch was one of the Prince Regent's trusted men.
Even if he had killed someone in broad daylight, it wouldn't be Janos Slynt's place to judge him.
Just moments ago, Lance had intended to appoint Balman as the next Commander of the City Watch.
---
"You handled that well, Captain Janos."
As expected, Lance nodded approvingly.
He glanced behind him at Manly.
The old knight's head had already dropped.
His shoulders trembled violently.
Broken sobs escaped his throat.
Hearing the death of his only daughter had shattered him completely.
For a moment, Lance placed a hand on his shoulder.
A silent gesture telling him to hold himself together.
---
Then Lance continued calmly.
"And the man?"
"The one hiding in the house."
"Where is he now?"
"When we arrived," Janos replied,
"we only found Ser Balman collapsed and Lady Falyse already dead."
"The man had vanished."
"But please rest assured—"
"I've ordered the Gold Cloaks to search the entire city."
"If he's still in King's Landing, he won't escape."
He hesitated slightly.
"However…"
"What?"
Lance frowned.
"Speak."
Janos swallowed.
"According to Ser Balman's description…"
"The man had black hair…"
"Eyes as blue as a raven's…"
"And—"
Janos glanced toward the man sitting on the floor—
more precisely, toward Balon Greyjoy's chest.
The moment Balon noticed that look, his heart, which had just begun to calm, lurched violently back into his throat.
Black hair…
Eyes as blue as a raven's…
Those features sound way too familiar…
Sure enough, Janos only paused for a moment before continuing loudly:
"—and he wore the golden kraken sigil on his chest!"
The entire hall turned toward the Greyjoy brothers again.
Feeling all those eyes on him, Balon swallowed hard.
Damn it, Euron Greyjoy.
I just settled this mess—lost a hand doing it—and now he pulls something like this?!
Balon didn't doubt Janos's report for even a second.
After all, knowing his brother…
This was exactly the kind of thing Euron was capable of.
Across the Iron Islands, most lords said the same thing about House Greyjoy:
> "All the Greyjoys are mad—except their father, Quellon."
> "Their blood runs wild, but Euron Greyjoy is the worst of them."
Even Balon and his other brothers despised Euron.
The man was cunning, cruel, and utterly unpredictable.
He delighted in tormenting those around him.
As Quellon's second son, Euron often harassed his younger brothers in disturbing ways—
Urrigon, Victarion, even Aeron were not spared.
If Balon hadn't been older and physically stronger, he might have been another victim.
Balon had warned Euron more than once.
Euron never cared.
In fact, he once admitted quite plainly that he wasn't doing it out of desire.
He simply enjoyed planting fear in his brothers' hearts.
Every time they panicked under his torment, Euron felt immense pleasure.
Even Balon thought that behavior was pure madness.
And the worst part?
He had just sworn proudly that Greyjoys never steal.
Now Janos's words had slapped him squarely in the face.
Does stealing someone's wife count as stealing?
…Yeah.
It probably does.
---
"Euron Greyjoy."
Balon closed his eyes and sighed before lifting his head to face Lance.
"He… he is my brother," he admitted grimly.
"Though I would rather not acknowledge it."
"That man is unpredictable. No one can guess what he might do."
"My father once said the sea runs in our veins."
"But Euron…"
Balon's voice hardened.
"Poison runs in his."
"If I hadn't feared what he might do to Victarion and Aeron while I was away from the Iron Islands…"
"I never would have brought him to King's Landing."
"But now—"
"Shut up!"
Before he could finish, Manly Stokeworth roared in fury.
The disgraced knight drew his sword and stormed toward Balon.
"I'll kill you, Ironborn!"
"Your vile brother must have seduced my daughter and brought this disgrace upon my family!"
"I swear before the Seven—once I take your head, I will gather every man of House Stokeworth and crush the Iron Islands!"
"That's not my fault, knight!"
Balon scrambled to his feet and shoved Urrigon behind him.
With his only remaining arm, he pointed angrily at Janos.
"That Gold Cloak said it himself! Your daughter only committed adultery with Euron—"
He suddenly stopped.
From the corner of his eye, he caught Lance's cold stare.
The rest of the sentence died in his throat.
Just as Manly's sword was about to fall—
A heavy armored boot slammed into his wrist.
CLANG!
The blade flew from his hand and clattered across the floor.
Manly turned back in disbelief.
Only to see Lance staring at him with those icy blue eyes.
"Use your head, Manly Stokeworth."
"Your daughter committed adultery first."
"She even defended that man—Euron—and tried to help him kill her own husband."
"That crime alone is enough to warrant death."
The coldness in Lance's gaze made every hair on Manly's body stand on end.
Until now, Lance had only released killing intent as a warning.
But this time…
Manly knew with absolute certainty.
If he made another reckless move—
Lance would kill him without hesitation.
---
"You should leave now, Ser."
Seeing that Manly had finally calmed down, Lance snorted.
"This is the City Watch headquarters. You have no authority here anymore."
"We're about to discuss the next phase of the manhunt."
"Go."
"Go see your daughter."
Only then did Manly seem to wake from a nightmare.
Right.
His daughter…
was gone.
His lips moved as if he wanted to say something.
But facing Lance's cold back, no words came out.
He simply sighed and staggered out of the hall like a broken man.
---
"Give me a chance, Your Highness."
Once Manly's figure disappeared completely, Balon suddenly raised his head.
Sweat rolled down his pale face.
The pain from his severed arm had not faded, leaving his voice hoarse.
Yet his eyes locked firmly onto Lance's calm expression.
"I swear by the Drowned God—"
"I will personally capture that bastard Euron."
"I'll drag him to your feet and hang him from the city walls like dried fish!"
"He will suffer the harshest punishment!"
Balon paused, breathing heavily to fight off dizziness.
Then he spoke each word slowly and firmly.
"Euron Greyjoy is the shame of the Iron Islands."
"A tumor in the blood of the kraken."
"My father Quellon Greyjoy would never tolerate such disgrace in King's Landing."
"The Iron Islands…"
He shouted the last sentence.
"…remain loyal to the Iron Throne, Your Highness!"
Then he lowered his head deeply.
A gesture of submission.
---
But Lance simply shook his head.
"This is King's Landing, Greyjoy."
His voice was calm.
Emotionless.
Yet the meaning was unmistakable.
In King's Landing, everything answered to the law—
and to the Prince Regent's will.
This was the center of power for the Seven Kingdoms.
The land of the Targaryens.
Catching criminals and passing judgment was not something Ironborn needed to involve themselves in.
---
Then Lance slowly closed his blue eyes.
The hall fell silent.
The flames in the fireplace seemed to shrink under some invisible pressure.
Shadows twisted across the marble walls.
Everyone watched nervously.
Balon stared at the tall knight in white armor, unsure what was happening.
Seconds stretched into eternity.
Perhaps a minute passed.
Perhaps a year.
Then—
A distant roar echoed from outside.
"Screeeeeee—Aaaang!"
Balon's eyes widened.
His heart began pounding wildly.
He swallowed.
A terrifying possibility formed in his mind.
The next moment—
A massive shadow swept across the hall entrance.
A freezing gust of wind rushed in—
followed by searing heat and the smell of sulfur.
A dragon.
It was a dragon.
The moment the nearest Gold Cloak recognized the creature landing in the center of the hall, he screamed and collapsed to his knees.
Janos's face turned deathly pale.
Even Balon—who had severed his own hand without a sound—felt his legs tremble.
A dragon.
A real one.
Alive.
The Dragon Festival hadn't even begun yet—
and they were already seeing one.
Maybe losing a hand was worth it after all—
Actually, no. Not at all.
---
The dragon roared again.
Its ash-gray scales gleamed coldly.
Its molten eyes swept across the hall.
Its neck arched proudly.
Sparks flickered from its nostrils as a low rumble vibrated from its throat.
Every heartbeat in the room seemed to match that sound.
Only then did Lance open his eyes.
He reached out and patted the dragon's head.
"Ilyon," he said quietly.
The dragon responded with clear affection and obedience.
Though it restrained its terrifying presence slightly, its natural dominance still filled the hall.
Then Lance looked down at Balon.
"You arrived by ship, didn't you?"
His voice was calm.
Balon was still trembling from the dragon's arrival.
After a moment, he managed to answer.
"Yes… Your Highness."
"The Leviathan, with two escort longships."
Lance nodded.
"Good."
He stroked Ilyon's jaw scales.
Then gave a quiet order.
"Go take a look from the sky."
"Watch every harbor exit."
"From King's Landing to the mouth of the Blackwater."
"Any ship attempting to leave quickly…"
"Intercept it immediately—no matter what banner it flies."
---
The dragon threw its head back.
"SCREEEEE—AAANG!"
The roar shook the heavens.
Its massive wings spread wide and beat once.
A violent gust tore through the hall.
People raised their arms to shield their faces.
When the wind settled—
the dragon was already gone.
Far above the city, the savage silhouette shrank rapidly into the distance—
rushing eagerly toward its hunting ground.