Game of Dragonborn.

Chapter 72 - Betrayals and Ambitions 02.

[Chapter Size: 2700 Words.]

Third Person POV.
Westeros.

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"Where is it?!" Robert immediately exclaimed, eager to see the dragon hatchling.

"It's in the saddlebags, my lord..." Varys said cautiously, as everyone noticed the look of pleasure spreading across the king's face at the news.

"Your Majesty..." Ned tried to speak, but Robert interrupted him.

"I want to see it right now! Rest can wait!" he declared, turning to his men. "Bring it to the throne room—I want to see this dragon hatchling that's been giving me headaches for years!" he thundered, laughing as he strode forward.

"And I don't want anyone to imprison this man," Robert added as he entered. "He has done a great service to the realm!" His voice echoed as everyone reluctantly followed the king, even the queen, who was weary from the journey but had no choice but to accompany him with a hint of interest.

Lord Stark followed, having no choice in the matter either.

"Father! Should we go too?" Sansa approached him, but after casting one last look of disdain at Jorah Mormont, he turned to his daughter.

"No... this is not something you need to witness. Septa Mordane, I want you to take Sansa and Arya to the chamber in the Tower of the Hand," he instructed, and the woman quickly began organizing the girls to take them there.

With no other option, Lord Stark followed his men to the hall of the Iron Throne. The room was quickly filling with other nobles who had already gathered to greet the king and now eagerly awaited the trial. Robert was already seated on the Iron Throne, a smile playing on his lips as he waited for his men to bring Viserys Targaryen.

"Ned, come to my side. It's time for you to start your duties as my Hand," Robert exclaimed, and Ned nodded, stepping up alone to stand beside him.

The queen approached as well, standing on the other side of the king along with the Kingsguard, while the council members positioned themselves near the throne and the rest of the nobility filled the room. Even Joffrey appeared, approaching with a glimmer of interest. Jorah Mormont was among the gathered crowd, earning a piercing look from Lord Stark.

Then, the doors opened, and the City Watch, clad in red, entered carrying a man with platinum hair and bound arms. He growled at them, thrashing as he struggled against their hold.

"Let me go, you bastards! How dare you lay your filthy hands on me?!" Viserys shouted as he was dragged before the king.

Robert watched the scene with a satisfied expression. Even the queen observed as the last male Targaryen heir was brought before them like a worm.

"Let me go! I am the king!" Viserys screamed before the men threw him to the ground in front of everyone, forcing him to kiss the floor. He let out a groan of pain.

The room fell silent as they watched Viserys rolling on the floor, struggling to rise. His breathing was labored. The silence lingered until laughter suddenly echoed. The king began to laugh at the spectacle.

"Hahahahahaha!!"

Viserys, lifting his face for the first time, opened his eyes to see a sight he hadn't witnessed in years: the Iron Throne. His gaze fell upon the king, a fat man laughing while seated in the chair—the chair that should have been his. As his eyes shifted, he saw the gathered nobles, some watching him, others observing the king's laughter.