Ronnet Connington SI

Chapter 15: -Chapter 14-



-Chapter 14-

-POV MC-

-2 moons later-

With the king gone hunting, I took the opportunity to leave Winterfell.

Rumors were already spreading fast, and I didn't want to be summoned before the king.

I knew that lying to him about the events at the tower would be beyond my ability, so I withdrew all my forces and returned to the capital.

Once in the capital, I quickly reclaimed all my assets and locked down my businesses before hastily leaving and returning to Griffin Roost.

It had also been expanded; now a garrison of 5,000 men could guard the castle, and at maximum capacity, 30,000 people and 3,000 horses could be stationed there.

Before leaving, I spread a rumor in the capital that the queen and her brother had committed an odious act against my son and that we had mutually broken our oath to each other.

From now on, I didn't want to be associated with that harlot. I was going to fly on my own and take as many advantages as possible.

Lannister... Stark... Martell... Tyrell... Baratheon... Tully... Arryn... Targaryen, I didn't care who sat on the Iron Throne. All I wanted now was to develop in peace while teaching my son how to govern.

In a war where dragons and the undead returned, I couldn't predict what would happen to me.

"WHAT?" my little sister practically screamed.

"Are you sure the queen and the kingslayer threw your son from a tower? You didn't see wrong?" said my little brother, a bit frightened by my accusations.

Raymund was the youngest but also my heir if things went wrong. He had also known the dark days of our family after we opposed the Baratheons, and he didn't want it to happen again once we had not only regained everything but also gained more.

Even though I understood him, I was a bit disappointed that he doubted my word, and he must have noticed because he quickly added, "I'm not doubting your word, but it's the queen. Why would she kill your bas... I mean, your natural son?"

I didn't like people talking about Ronald as a bastard, especially since the tower incident.

I nodded and then said, "Accelerate the war preparations and continue to empty our coffers in exchange for poultry and grains."

Raymund, though not very courageous, was an excellent administrator, and I had done a good thing by pushing him to study more and fight less because every time I was absent, he managed my domain.

"Now all the plans I've organized for years have gone up in smoke, and I'll have to move wherever the wind takes me," I said, annoyed by this waste of time and money.

"It's not that terrible," said Alynne. "After all, Ronald is fine, you're fine, we still have 780,000 gold dragons in our coffers, and our army is ready for a long war."

I nodded, but I couldn't help feeling a bit disappointed.

In the end, Alynne was right. We still had enough resources to defend our territory, and we weren't at war with anyone.

---

-POV Cersei-

"The frog managed to ask one last question, 'But why, scorpion? We are both going to die!' Do you know what the scorpion replied?" said the imposing figure of Ronnet.

"No, shut up!" I tried to scream, but I couldn't make a sound.

He smiled predatorily while wrapping his hands around my neck and pressed, saying, "It's in my nature! You're exactly like that little scorpion, Cersei. I gave you absolutely everything, but it wasn't enough; you also had to take my son. I never believed someone could be born entirely evil, but it seems that's your case. Do you seriously think I am like your husband or your good-for-nothing brother, good with a weapon and nothing else?"

I shook my head and said, "You're not real. Stop tormenting me. You're just a dream."

He laughed maniacally before saying, "And why do you think I appear to you in a dream? I knew your children were bastards long before I met you. I could have told your father, your husband, Renly, the Tyrells, and even the damn Freys. They would have covered me in gold, titles, and all sorts of rewards, but I didn't. Instead, I spoke to you frankly and honestly. I offered you my loyalty and even my heart. All these words you hear are the weight of my pain and your guilt."

"A lion does not concern itself with the opinion of sheep."

He sighed and let me fall, saying, "You are not a lioness. You're nothing more than a cat who has lost its claws. You broke your oath to me, so from now on, you are alone."

I tried to grab him, but he pushed me away violently, saying, his eyes filled with disgust, "Don't ever touch me again. You disgust me."

'This day will haunt me until the end of my life,' I thought as I woke up once again from a dream where Ronnet had abandoned me.

Guilt was a new feeling, especially after he told me he had always known what I had done with Jaime.

I couldn't feel anything else. He had been a true friend, and I missed him...

In a moment of weakness, I sat on the bed and cried for a long time, mourning the only sincere friendship I had ever had.

---

-2 moons later-

"My lord, we have received a message from our informant. The bells rang three days ago. King Joffrey has imprisoned the Warden of the North," said Rogar, a mercenary from the Vale I had hired as the head of my small spy network scattered throughout the kingdom.

I smiled and said, "Give him the green light to start our plan, and from now on, I want a daily report on everything happening in the Capital."

He nodded, bowed, and then quickly left to implement my instructions.

'You wanted to play with me, Cersei. Very well, now regret your stupid decision,' I thought, reveling in the misfortune of my former liege lady.

I immediately drafted a letter to Cortnay Penrose and Renly Baratheon, and then said, "Maester Raynald, please send these two letters and do not open them under any circumstances. I expect them to arrive intact at Storm's End."

"Yes, my lord," he said, taking the two letters with him.

---

-POV Cersei-

The sun beat down hard, reflecting off the cobblestones of the Great Sept courtyard, but an inner coldness enveloped me.

I stood on the platform, beside Joffrey, observing the gathered crowd. Every face was tense, every murmur tinged with anxiety.

But most importantly, at the foot of the stage stood Eddard Stark, the wolf of the North. He looked so different from the proud man I had known. His features were drawn, his pride seemed to have melted away like snow in the sun.

I knew this had to be done, for the kingdom, for my family, for me, and yet, a part of me wanted him to repent, to admit his mistakes in front of everyone and to be sent to the Wall, condemned to live his days in ice and snow, far from everything.

It was a form of mercy, wasn't it?

When I heard his voice, low but firm, admitting his treason and recognizing Joffrey as the legitimate king, a sigh of relief escaped my lips.

Everything would be fine, I thought.

But before I could dwell on it further, Joffrey's voice rang out, sharp as the sword he ordered to be used: "Ser Ilyn, bring me his head."

Sansa's scream, the crowd's roars, the metallic sound of the sword in motion... everything seemed to blend into a deafening whirlwind.

My eyes were fixed on that fool Ned Stark, every beat of my heart seemed to last an eternity, and then it happened. His head was severed from his body by his family's ancestral sword.

The cries intensified, but all I could hear was the buzzing in my ears, a sensation of emptiness overwhelmed me.

It wasn't supposed to happen like this, not like this.

I glanced at Joffrey, seeking an explanation, a reason, but all I saw in his eyes was cruel determination and immense pleasure at watching his fiancée suffer from her father's death and his people cheering for him for delivering 'justice.'

My son, the king, had made his choice.

The square was in turmoil, but all I wanted was to get away, away from the chaos, the blood, and the failure of my attempt to control the throne through my eldest son.

The harsh reality was there before me: the Game of Thrones was not as predictable as I had thought, and I might have made an irreversible mistake in entrusting the responsibility of this execution to Joffrey.

As I stood there amid the tumult, my mind drifted to Ronnet, that imposing knight, with his reassuring presence.

He had always been a calm force, a voice of reason even when everything around him was falling apart, and if there was ever a moment when I wanted him to be here, it was now.

An unwelcome thought crossed my mind: with Ronnet by my side, could we have avoided this? Could he have controlled Joffrey's impetuous madness, brought him back to reason before he committed an irreparable act?

The memories of our moments together, the advice he gave me, the laughter we shared—all that now seemed distant. But the feeling of a missed opportunity, of an alliance that could have been the key to much-desired stability, weighed heavily on me.

In this world of fragile alliances and constant betrayals, I might have lost one of the only people who could have been my compass in the storm that Joffrey had created. With Eddard Stark's death, I feared the storm was just beginning.


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