Chapter 165

Jaime was furious.

He had been woken early with urgent orders to leave for Dragonstone, only to find himself riding halfway across King’s Landing to the River Gate, where he stumbled upon the City Watch arresting his brother. Unease gnawed at him, and he immediately rode back to the Red Keep—only to find chaos unfolding there as well.

Cersei, not just his twin sister but his first and only love, was on her knees, clutching her face, looking fragile and helpless. Seeing her like this ignited a blaze of rage within Jaime.

"Robert Baratheon!" Jaime's voice shook with fury as he drew his sword for the second time that day. With two Kingsguard standing behind him, their weapons drawn and ready, he didn’t immediately point his blade at the king a few paces away. Instead, he stared at Robert with murderous intensity, as though his gaze alone could cut him down. "You’d better explain what’s happening here, or I’ll show you why they call me the Kingslayer."

"Is that a threat to the king?" Ser Boros Blount, the fattest of the Kingsguard, was the first to follow Jaime into the room. Despite his size, his steps were surprisingly nimble. "Jaime Lannister, you’re out of line!"

Ser Arys Oakheart entered close behind, weapon in hand, his voice cold and steady. "Put down your sword, Jaime. Don’t forget your oath—you are sworn to protect the king."

The Kingsguard outside had failed to stop Jaime at the door, lacking explicit orders from Robert to kill him on sight. But that didn’t mean the other five wouldn’t act. With their swords already drawn, the three outside faced off tensely against the Lannister guards in their crimson cloaks, who had found renewed courage with the return of their young lord.

"I know why they call you the Kingslayer, Jaime Lannister," Robert said, his tone sharp and mocking. "And like you, I have a nickname I’m not fond of. But don’t think your reputation scares me." Robert, the usurper who had overthrown the Targaryen dynasty, was no Janos Slynt. Unshaken, he reached for the warhammer resting on a low table beside him, lifting it easily. As he tested its weight, a grim smile spread across his face, the familiarity of the weapon reigniting his confidence.

Jaime was a skilled warrior, but according to the Kingsguard, he lost more often than he won in sparring matches with Barristan Selmy. Barristan himself had been no match for Rhaegar Targaryen. And Robert… Robert had killed Rhaegar with his own hands on the Trident.

While this chain of logic didn’t guarantee victory, facing the "subordinate of a subordinate of a subordinate," who also happened to be the man who’d allegedly cuckolded him, filled Robert with burning fury. "Do you know why you and Cersei are still alive to see today’s sunrise? You can thank our good Hand of the King, Eddard Stark. He spent all night convincing me that ‘keeping the Lannisters alive serves my interests better.’ So I held back. I didn’t strike yesterday. But here you are, running back to the Red Keep to die. What a waste of your life, Kingslayer."
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"Uncle Jaime!" Myrcella’s tear-streaked face appeared in the middle of the room, breaking the icy standoff. She darted past Robert and threw herself in front of Jaime, clinging to his sword arm. "Father and Mother are just having one of their fights! They do this all the time. Please, don’t make it worse! I’m begging you, Uncle Jaime!"

Jaime could never harm his own daughter. The sight of her tears and trembling frame broke the spell of his rage. His murderous intent, which had flared so dangerously upon entering the room, slowly dissipated. His sword arm fell gradually, and finally, the tip of his blade pointed to the ground.

"Jaime, kill him!" Cersei had dropped her hands from her face, revealing her flushed and tear-streaked cheeks. She glared at Robert with venomous hatred. "He wants to keep me locked up in this wretched castle, to treat me like a breeding sow and force me to give him more heirs! I’d rather die than live like that! Kill him, Jaime!"

"Mother, please stop!" Myrcella sobbed, her voice trembling with desperation. "Uncle Jaime, don’t listen to her! Just sit down and talk it through! There must be a way to resolve this!"

(A way to resolve this? With the rumors being true?) Jaime thought bitterly. He doubted it. But with Myrcella crying, the Kingsguard pressing their blades at his back, and his own logic overriding his impulses, he forced himself to stay calm. Robert wasn’t Aerys. Killing him wouldn’t just stain Jaime’s honor again; it would doom the Lannisters entirely. And even if he didn’t consider his family, Jaime himself had no desire to repeat the mistakes of his past.

"You’ve ordered me to Dragonstone. What would’ve happened if I’d obeyed?" Jaime asked, breaking the tense silence.

"Nothing would’ve happened," Robert replied coldly. "That was Ned Stark’s idea. He told me I couldn’t just kill you or imprison you without cause. But letting you strut around the Red Keep insults the crown. And sending you back to Casterly Rock would only give Tywin a free hand. So he suggested finding a ‘safe and controlled place’ to limit your freedom. Dragonstone, where the Lannisters hold no power and no ships dock except Stannis’s fleet, seemed like the perfect choice. Unless you plan to swim back, you’d have no choice but to stay put." He paused, then sneered. "It’s a clever plan, but it seems you weren’t stupid enough to fall for it. So tell me, why did you leave the Red Keep only to return? Besides guilt, is there another explanation?"

"On my way out, I saw Janos Slynt arresting my brother Tyrion." Jaime hesitated to reveal too much but suspected there was more to this than met the eye. Slynt wouldn’t dare touch a Lannister without explicit orders or confidence in his position. "Was that your order?"

"Why would I order anyone to arrest a dwarf?" Robert snorted disdainfully. "Only a fool would lay a hand on your brother. Tyrion’s death wouldn’t hurt Tywin, but it would give him the perfect excuse to turn on me. With you and Cersei in my hands, Tywin already has to tread carefully. Why would I waste that leverage? But since you’ve come back, let me ask you something, Jaime—do you deny the rumors?"

"I deny everything," Jaime said bluntly. "The claims are nothing but malicious lies. The only truth is the children’s golden hair. If you want an explanation for why the prince and princess aren’t black-haired, I don’t have one for you. Maybe you should’ve married a Dornishwoman if you cared so much about hair color."

"Fine." Robert sighed heavily. "Neither of you admit anything. That makes this whole day a bloody waste of time." He looked Jaime squarely in the eye, his tone dripping with derision. "Kingslayer, for Tywin’s sake, I’ll give you one last chance. Before the City Watch moves into the Red Keep, make your choice—stay here in a room of my choosing until my next child is born, or take a ship to Dragonstone and enjoy a long holiday under my brother’s ‘protection.’"
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