House of The Dragon:The Rise of the Emperor of the Seven Kingdoms

Clarisse finished the fight quickly; the assassin’s body fell to the floor with a loud thud, his head rolling a few times before coming to a stop. His eyes were still wide, incredulous in death. A drop of blood slid down the white blade and fell to the floor.

"Clarisse, go help Jorah clear the castle," Maekar ordered in a calm tone. He didn’t need guards at that moment; regaining control of the castle was the most important thing.

The lords of Dorne had already arrived in Sunspear, but reinforcements had not; it was more than obvious they were waiting to see the final outcome and if Mara had the strength to at least resist a little.

Clarisse hesitated; the idea of leaving Maekar alone during a castle invasion was somewhat terrifying in her eyes. However, remembering that she had lost to the prince in a duel, she bowed to Maekar and left the room with her sword in hand.

"I’m so jealous; I wanted Clarisse," Mara, who was pressing fabric against the wound in her shoulder, commented with envy. Who wouldn’t want such a powerful and deadly knight as a personal guard?

"You’re too late," Maekar said with a smile. He liked breaking some rules, and having Clarisse as a personal guard and future Lord Commander of the Kingsguard was exactly that. As for anyone complaining that a woman couldn’t be in the Kingsguard, he would simply say that Queen Visenya had created the Order of Knights.

Mara merely snorted and collapsed onto the sofa. She lay in an unladylike pose and said in a cold tone, "Maekar, I want to poison all those bastards to death, to see them die in agony."

Maekar didn’t tell Mara to control her anger; the girl had lived her whole life controlled by others and was now exploding in a surprising way.

"Unfortunately, I want my throne to still exist, so I’ll have to endure this humiliation for a good while," Mara said with a helpless smile. This was the flaw of the feudal system. The king wasn’t truly the country but merely the strongest noble.

"You won’t have to endure it for long," Maekar said with a cold smile. "Accidents happen; you can kill them one by one over time. You can spread rumors to the people that this is the curse of betrayal."

Mara looked at Maekar with a surprised gaze; she truly felt that Maekar should have been born in Dorne—he was perfect for an environment as dangerous as Dorne.

"You are a cold man," Mara said with a tone of resentment.

"For being a conspirator or for ignoring your seduction?" Maekar asked with an amused smile, shifting completely from his previous expression.

"Obviously for ignoring me," Mara replied, snorting through her nostrils.

"I am a committed man, my dear princess," Maekar replied casually as he sat on the sofa across from where Mara was lying.

"That has never stopped a man or woman from having bastards," Mara said with a mocking smile. The number of bastards in the world reinforced Mara’s words. The church said bastards were the fruit of the lust of demons, but the nobles never stopped having them.

"Unfortunately for you, I am a different kind of man," Maekar said with a smile.

Mara sighed and didn’t retort. The only man she had a genuine interest in was loyal to his own wife. That was truly a shame—or rather, it made Maekar even more special in her eyes.

What you can never have is always the most tempting.

"By the way, aren’t you worried about Clarisse?" Mara asked curiously. She knew Mors’s assassins were well-trained; they weren’t just some group of thieves. Even as the Sword of the Morning, Clarisse was still human.

"I’ve already called for help," Maekar said with a playful smile.

Thinking of something, Mara also showed a sudden expression of enlightenment and understood Maekar’s words. She too began to laugh.

While Maekar and Mara talked as if they hadn’t just survived an assassination attempt, the castle was under heavy attack by assassins.

Jorah, who had become the commander of Mara’s personal guard, had many qualities; one of them was being a good commander and having the trust of his subordinates. Even with the larger number of assassins, he still maintained battle formation within a narrow corridor.

Of course, these assassins were fools; they thought they would be able to subdue Jorah quickly, but that proved impossible. Jorah, who had lived for many years in the Court of Sunspear, was never a weak or arrogant man.

After all, he had protected Mara for eighteen years. Even after Mara had tried to regain her power and failed, Jorah still managed to keep the princess safe. This showed that the man was loyal and competent.

However, Jorah was still human. The number of assassins was large, about three times that of Princess Mara’s personal guard.

Along with the poisoned weapons, the casualties of Mara’s personal guard were increasing. At that moment, out of twenty men, only eight were still alive. Of course, the assassins had lost twice that number.

Clarisse had arrived at that moment. She took a shield from one of Mara’s personal guards and rushed to help Jorah.

The man noticed this and showed a happy expression. Clarisse’s departure meant the princess was fine. This relieved his concern somewhat.

The Sword of the Morning didn’t know Jorah’s thoughts and quickly reached the side of the eight survivors. The smell of blood hung in the air amidst a cloying sweet scent (poison). She looked at Jorah, and they both exchanged a look and thought the same thing.

They had to defend the corridor.

However, just as they were about to fight to the death, the sound of flapping wings was heard, and a shadow covered the entire castle.

The assassins looked up, confused, and in the next moment, horror and fear flashed in each of their eyes.

Bahamut could now be seen above the palace. He landed on the building, causing some destruction, but his golden eyes stared at the assassins through the square courtyard, which was surrounded by a walkway where the open corridor ended and the closed corridor began, where Jorah, Clarisse, and others were.

"Run!" one assassin shouted first and fled without any hesitation. At his words, the other assassins didn’t hesitate and ran for their lives.

Then Bahamut, who had long wanted some snacks for his afternoon treat, didn’t want the snacks to escape.

Opening his mouth and letting out a terrifying and monstrous roar, he surged forward like a true colossus, destroying the castle as if it were made of sand, which wasn’t exactly wrong.

Bahamut’s massive jaws surged forward and caught one of the assassins in his teeth. The man screamed in horror, but the screams were silenced when the dagger-sized teeth came down, claiming his life.

Bahamut tossed the body upward and released a jet of platinum fire with golden streaks. Then he opened his mouth and swallowed it whole. The dragon let out something like a laugh and surged forward, as if he were a cat chasing a mouse.

The scene, which was fun for Bahamut himself, was terrifying for anyone witnessing it and simply horrifying for those who were the prey.

Jorah swallowed hard at the scene unfolding; the tremors in the castle and the screams of the assassins reverberated in his mind. Pieces of the castle broke away from the building and fell to the ground with loud crashes.

"This..." Jorah didn’t know what to say in the face of such a terrifying scene. The dragon seemed to be smiling sadistically as he captured, burned, and swallowed the assassins one by one. For those who managed to hide in other places, the dragon tore through the walls as if they were mud and swallowed them whole.

"Now I understand why House Martell never fought back, even after the Conqueror burned Dorne for two years. The lucky arrow that hit Meraxes in the eye was simply a miracle from the gods," Clarisse said in a helpless tone.

This was just the dragon on land; if it were in the air, burning entire armies would be so easy it would be done in less than fifteen minutes.

"In the end, power is the only thing that matters, and in this world, who is as strong as House Targaryen?" Jorah said in an equally helpless tone. He almost wanted to fight only against humans after seeing a dragon in action personally.

"No use muttering; let’s clear the castle before we can tend to the dead and wounded," Clarisse said, her voice much calmer.

Jorah nodded, and together with the rest of the princess’s personal guard, they swept the castle in search of any remaining assassins.

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Read my other books:

House of The Dragon:The Rise of the Emperor of the Seven Kingdoms

Game Of Thrones: The God-Emperor of Planetos

Percy Jackson: Godwyn the Golden.

Game Of Thrones: The King’s Court Wizard