Game of Thrones: Bastard? I’m the Damn Heir!

Robert's hand never landed—not in front of so many witnesses. Instead, he turned his punishment into a royal confinement order for the queen.

And after finishing his tirade against the foolish woman who had stirred up trouble without a shred of sense, he finally turned his gaze toward the two Lannister brothers.

"Take your sister back. Because I don't want to see another damned Lannister in front of me again!"

"The convoy moves out tomorrow!"

"Seven hells!"

With his orders given, Robert cursed under his breath and turned to leave—eager to get out of there before the crowd could make a spectacle of him.

And though the king's words had clearly struck them as well, both Tyrion and Jaime instinctively exhaled in relief.

But just as it seemed the matter had been laid to rest—declared a fit of maternal madness, and masterfully reframed by Tyrion as nothing more than a mother's love gone too far—

Cersei Lannister didn't see it that way.

She stared at Robert's back as he turned to leave, and suddenly let out a sharp, mocking laugh.

"Do you want to know why I said that bastard used lies and trickery to blind your foolish eyes?"

Robert froze in place.

Tyrion, who had only just relaxed, immediately tensed again, his expression darkening.

Jaime Lannister's mouth twitched. Without a word, he turned to forcibly drag Cersei away.

But she didn't resist—she struck.

Without hesitation, Cersei slapped Jaime hard across the face, right there in front of everyone.

The Kingslayer, caught completely off guard, stood frozen, stunned by the blow.

He looked at her, bewildered.

All he received in return was a face full of cold disappointment—and a pair of merciless, resolute eyes.

Then she spoke, calm and cutting.

"Jaime, you don't love your family. Not even a little."

Her gaze was flat, her tone cool. But the words cut straight into his heart like a blade.

Jaime stood there, stunned, not knowing how to respond.

And with that slap and those quiet, devastating words, everyone who had thought the drama was over suddenly snapped back to attention.

It wasn't over.

There was more gossip to feast on!

That thought surged through the crowd like a spark through dry grass.

Hundreds of sharp eyes immediately turned toward the scene again, eager for more.

Even Robert, who had been about to walk away, was forced to stop once more—his fury now boiling over completely. He turned back toward the woman who simply refused to stop stirring chaos.

"Maybe I ought to get you a rag and a cage!"

"The rag to stuff that damn mouth of yours—and the cage to lock you in!"

But his rage was met only with two derisive scoffs from Cersei Lannister.

"Heh… Hehehe…"

"You foolish idiot!"

"You really believe what happened to your son was exactly what you saw?"

"You won't even trust your own son's words—but you'll believe the lies of a lowborn bastard?!"

"Or do you truly believe," Cersei pressed coldly, "that Joffrey—who was supposed to be under the protection of Sandor Clegane—just happened to fall into the river, and then was conveniently rescued by your bastard?"

"And then was promptly rewarded with a knighthood?"

Cersei no longer ranted. She didn't continue to harass Kal either.

Instead, after insulting Robert's stupidity, she simply fired off those bitter, venom-laced questions—one after another—with contempt etched in her voice.

And her pointed words instantly stirred curiosity among the crowd.

Someone immediately whispered, "Yeah… what was the Hound doing?"

"I heard he was so drunk he passed out cold. Kal Stone was the one who brought him back…"

"No, wait—I heard Kal pulled the Hound out of the river too. Supposedly, he jumped in after the prince while still in armor…"

"Seriously? That's what happened?…"

"…"

With just that one reminder, Cersei had cast doubt over the entire situation.

And although Robert still believed Cersei was being unreasonable, her words planted a seed of doubt.

His gaze drifted toward Kal, who had remained calm from the very beginning—even when accused of trying to murder Joffrey.

Robert paused, then turned and barked toward the nearby guards.

"Where's Sandor Clegane?!"

But before the confused guards could respond—

Tyrion stepped forward once again, his timing as impeccable as ever. Only this time, his expression was far from cheerful.

"I went to check on the Hound myself," he said grimly. "He's still unconscious. Completely soaked—but yes, he reeks of wine."

"But Joffrey also smelled of alcohol…"

"Word is, while Joffrey was out with Sandor, they passed a farmhouse—and the prince demanded food and wine from the peasants."

"And earlier today, some of those same farmers came to confirm it."

At this point, perhaps worried Robert wouldn't take his word for it, Tyrion quickly added, "If you're still unsure, Your Grace—you can ask your steward for verification."

As Tyrion's explanation came to a close, the previously buzzing courtyard fell silent once more.

No one had expected the dwarf to be this meticulous—managing, in such a short time, to pick up on the critical details and trace the cause of the incident so clearly.

And if he'd gone so far as to confirm the story with witnesses, then it likely wasn't in doubt.

People began to turn toward Tyrion, who gave a helpless shake of the head and let out a rueful laugh, eyes full of weariness.

He was thoughtful. Well-informed. Sharp.

In truth, the moment Kal returned with both Joffrey and Sandor Clegane, Tyrion had already caught wind of it.

And the reason he hadn't rushed over to gawk like the others?

He'd sensed something was off. So he used the time to dig around, gather evidence, and piece everything together.

Now, the whole truth was laid bare.

That was why Tyrion had spoken with such certainty, why he had the confidence to step in so forcefully.

Once he realized there was no stopping Cersei, he knew he had to act—before things spiraled out of control for no good reason.

And more than anything, he didn't want the only true friend he had to be falsely accused by a woman who'd lost her mind.

Robert, after listening to Tyrion's explanation, was so furious he couldn't speak.

He drew in a sharp breath and no longer bothered looking at Cersei Lannister, whose face had turned oddly stunned at Tyrion's revelation.

Instead, his expression calm but his voice firm, he turned to face the young man he had just knighted.

"Kal Stone. If you have anything to say, speak freely."

"I won't allow baseless jealousy to stain my knight's name—or disgrace the honor he has rightfully earned."

"No matter who is behind it!"

Robert didn't glance at Cersei or the others again. He looked only at Kal, his tone unnervingly composed.

But the weight of those words caused tension to ripple through the crowd—even Tyrion visibly stiffened.

Everyone knew: Robert Baratheon had finally lost his patience with his queen's endless provocations. He wasn't going to paper over this with half-measures.

Everyone also understood what this meant—Robert wasn't going to let the matter slide. He was going to see it through to the end.

And hearing those words, Cersei's expression shifted.

But then she glanced around—at the Lannister guards flanking her, and at Jaime, whose face was now shadowed with a conflicted, unreadable look.

And slowly, a smile bloomed across her lips once more.

Strike the snake but fail to kill it, and it will bite back harder.

Her relentlessness had a purpose.

This was exactly what she wanted—an opportunity to use the chaos to eliminate Kal in one bold move.

Since she couldn't get rid of Kal this way, Cersei still had one final move left.

Would it anger Robert? Push him past the edge of patience?

Heh…

As things began shifting toward the outcome he least desired, Tyrion could only sigh in frustration and give up trying to mediate.

His face was full of concern.

And throughout all of it—from the moment Cersei had begun stirring trouble—Kal had stood silently off to the side, as if none of this had anything to do with him.

Now, as countless eyes turned to him, he did something unexpected:

He smiled.

There was no trace of tension on his face. Even though night had fully fallen, and the courtyard was now lit by campfires and torches held by guards and servants alike, the glow couldn't dim the calm expression on Kal's face.

He looked completely at ease—and even smiled.

Seeing Kal Stone like that—so relaxed, so composed—many in the crowd paused, startled.

They couldn't quite understand what game he was playing.

Then Kal slowly shook his head, turned to face Robert, and spoke.

"I've never known who my father is, and honestly, I've never cared."

He said it plainly, with a shrug, as if it were the most casual thing in the world.

Robert's brow furrowed at that, but he said nothing.

Kal didn't seem to mind. He simply offered a faint smile.

Then he turned toward the queen, the woman who had hounded him without pause—Cersei Lannister.

"Prejudice is a mountain in the heart."

"In the face of Her Grace's accusations, I don't believe there's any explanation I could offer that would satisfy her."

"And I'm sure Her Grace has come prepared—very thoroughly prepared."

"All I can do now… is leave my actions to the judgment of the Seven."

He stepped forward slightly.

"And so—I demand trial by combat!"

---

I will post some extra Chapters in Patreon, you can check it out. >> patreon.com/TitoVillar

---