The One True Heir

Chapter 12

"Lord Stark, Lady Stark, welcome to Kings Landing."

"Your Grace," the patriarch and matriarch of House Stark sank to their knees. "We are honoured that you've come to receive us personally."

"Think nothing of it. Now come, we have delayed Lysa Arryn's sentence for too long" the King began his walk back to the Red Keep, followed by Lord and Lady Stark. "Ser Edmure arrived a little over a week after we received a raven in reply to theirs. Ser Brynden is with him."

"How is she? Lysa" Lady Stark questioned.

"As mad and raving as she has been since The Vale Lords had dropped her off. She keeps oscillating between apologizing and cursing. She's naturally worried about her son but other than those she keeps to herself in her old chambers."

"And how is the boy?" Lord Stark questioned. Edric looked back to the man and his wife, noticing the latter to be stiffer than a moment ago.

"He still has his shaking fits but the woman who is taking care of him says that he is warming up to her" he informed the man. Winifred had been the one that Edric had assigned to care for the boy, knowing well enough that the woman would take good care of him. "After the execution, would you like to take him with you?"

"No" Lady Stark's tone was blunt and cold. Lord Stark looked slightly constipated, unhappy with the decision but agreeing with his wife. The conversation had taken place between them at some point on their way here it seemed.

"Very well" the King nodded solemnly. Ser Edmure had declined the offer as well and Ser Brynden while showing interest in the end declined as well. The older Knight did not plan on returning to The Eyrie, so he was probably heading back to Riverrun. He probably didn't want to do anything to cause issues at home.

Their walk to The Throne Room after that point had been silent, the couple talking amongst themselves while Edric was in his own head. The King's Council was already in the room when they arrived. Edric made a beeline for the Throne, and once he sat he observed the rest in the room. His council stood on the right side of the room, and on the left stood the Tullys and the Starks. Right beside him was his hand Lord Tywin. Lady Stark was eyeing one of the Council members in the room, the newly appointed Master of Coin. Tyrion Lannister simply smiled at her in a friendly manner before looking away.

"Bring the guilty in" the King commanded.

Lysa Arryn looked more or less the same as she did when the Lords of The Vale had brought her in. Her eyes fell on her sister and for a while, she looked hopeful. But when Lady Stark looked away, the hope was shattered. Her brother and uncle had abandoned her, and now so had her sister.

"Is there anything you would like to say, Lady Lysa? Anything to your family? Or request for a trial by combat even?" the King asked.

"There is no one to fight for me. And I have no family" she muttered. Edric gave a nod to the guards that had brought her and they took her away. Her family followed her out, but the King remained. There was one other matter he needed to take care of.

The matter walked into the room, chained and looking worse for wear. Ser Loras was forced to his knees and the young Knight looked at the King with hate.

"I am sorry that it took so long for us to deal with the matter. But it would seem that your family took their time to come here. Maybe you don't hold as much of a position with them as I'd thought" Edric said coldly. "But they're here now, finally. So your trial can commence."

The doors were opened to let the new arrivals in. The Tyrells had arrived that morning. Lord Mace Tyrell was a fat man with curly brown hair and a triangle-shaped beard with white and grey specks in it. He had a reputation of being a jovial man, but right now he was serious and showed no signs of being as rumoured. With him came one of his two sons Garlan. Ser Garlan looked much like Ser Loras, except he was taller, more broadly built, and had a beard. His other son Willas was still at High Garden. His daughter Margaery had also come, a slender woman of beauty as many have described her. She had thick, softly curling brown hair and large brown eyes. The last of the group was Lady Olenna Tyrell, a small woman the size of a child.