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

"Trial by combat?!"

The moment Kal finished speaking, the surrounding crowd was momentarily stunned, then erupted in a wave of shocked gasps.

Eyes widened in disbelief.

No one had expected Kal to make such a choice.

After all, given what King Robert had just said, it was obvious that Kal had better options available.

With Robert Baratheon's barely concealed stance, it was clear that as long as Kal made a reasonable request, Robert would not refuse him.

Cersei might treat the people like fools, but Robert was not so patient as to let her run amok without limit.

And yet, shockingly, Kal had not made any requests—instead, he had chosen trial by combat, of all things!

What logic was this?

Didn't this play right into Queen Cersei Lannister's hands?

Why would Kal Stone be so foolish?

This unexpected choice once again stirred an uproar in the crowd.

But as the noise began to die down, people subconsciously recalled the words Kal had just spoken:

"The prejudice in men's hearts is a mountain!"

And also: "I'm sure Her Grace has come even more thoroughly prepared."

As mentioned before, not everyone present was a fool.

And as a few sharper minds began to revisit Kal's earlier remarks, the crowd started to catch on.

Their expressions shifted, and a solemn air settled over them.

Then, one by one, their eyes turned strangely toward the queen—and toward the armed guards who had followed her onto the scene with such imposing force.

It was nearly dusk, a time when soldiers would normally be resting.

Yet these men had not removed their armor or relaxed—they had arrived in full plate, weapons in hand.

Seeing this, and remembering Kal's words, it suddenly dawned on the more perceptive among them what he had meant by "the queen must have come thoroughly prepared."

Now that they understood the heart of the matter, many couldn't help but think to themselves: This boy sees things more clearly than he lets on…

Perhaps, when Kal Stone saw Cersei mobilize such force to publicly accuse him of plotting to harm the prince, he had already anticipated the situation.

So, for a bastard newly knighted, it only seemed like he had options—but in truth, he didn't.

After all, the queen's accusation was deadly serious: plotting to murder a royal prince. And the prince himself had, in fact, said Kal had hurt him.

Worse still, the only person who could confirm or deny what happened—Sandor Clegane—was currently still "unconscious."

Clearly, for Kal Stone, the so-called "truth" had already been decided on some level.

Alone, with no favorable evidence to offer, and the only potential witness both a Lannister retainer and conveniently "incapacitated"...

All that remained were a horse and an aurochs—neither of which could speak. And that aurochs, as it happened, was currently being roasted deliciously over the fire.

This was the most agonizing, most hopeless part of all.

After all, Cersei had completely thrown decorum aside—flipping the table with shameless abandon, her attitude practically screaming: I'm here to ruin you, and I don't care what anyone thinks.

In such a situation, Kal really had no way to fight back.

Everyone who grasped what was going on could feel it in their bones—the sheer despair of being cornered, with the heavens deaf to your cries and the earth unwilling to help.

Sympathetic gazes turned toward the bastard son, now caught in the queen's crosshairs, though no one could quite tell what he'd done to offend her.

Perhaps, for someone who'd drawn the queen's ire, trial by combat was the only way out.

To place the "answer" and the "truth" in the hands of the Seven!

And it was precisely because of that, though the crowd pitied Kal, their eyes held more than just sympathy—they were shaken.

For in this storm of chaos, Kal Stone saw through it all more clearly than anyone else.

And even when faced with the queen's overwhelming power, he showed not the slightest fear.

He faced it head-on, boldly and openly choosing the only path left to him.

That… takes courage.

The crowd was stunned in silence, their hearts stirred.

No one felt it more than Tyrion, whose expression grew more bitter than ever.

Why had he gotten involved, playing the fool to smooth things over? Was it not precisely to stop Cersei—to prevent things from reaching this point?

And yet, here he was, utterly powerless.

Cersei had seized the perfect opportunity and driven a dagger straight into Kal's gut—figuratively speaking.

For at this point, trial by combat truly was Kal Stone's only option.

"No. I do not permit it!"

Just then, as the entire crowd sighed inwardly in defeat, another voice cut through.

It was Robert—who had also come to understand what was really going on.

He rejected Kal's request for trial by combat outright.

He first cast a deep look at Kal, then turned sharply to face Cersei—his eyes already brimming with barely restrained fury.

In all his years of marriage to this woman, never once had he seen Cersei this venomous.

But at this point, he didn't even want to speak.

What he wanted more—needed more—was to leave immediately for Winterfell, to find Eddard Stark, and enlist his help in reining in the Lannisters.

And never before had he felt so clearly how dangerously unchecked the Lannisters had become since Jon Arryn's death. With Jon gone, the balance of power had tipped too far.

He swallowed his rage and shot Cersei a long, hard look.

"I am the king. I have the authority to forbid trial by combat!"

"And I also, in the name of the king, declare your accusations against Kal Stone to be unfounded!"

With that, Robert turned on his heel again—clearly done with this farce.

And the moment he delivered that royal decree, Cersei's smug certainty was shattered. Her face twisted with displeasure.

She hadn't expected that by overturning the table, Robert Baratheon would also overturn it—shamelessly, and with the full weight of his authority.

And now that she stood before the king's own table-flip, she realized—she could do nothing.

Her eyes grew even more poisonous.

Even the look she cast at Robert's retreating back… held something dark and indecipherable.

Just as Robert, acting in his capacity as king, was preparing to forcibly put an end to the matter and turn away—

A sudden wave of startled cries rose from the crowd.

Then, all at once, everything in front of him went dark—blocked by a tall figure stepping into his path.

"Your Grace," Kal said, his voice clear and steady. "Your knight, Kal Stone, is honored to receive justice under your rule…"

"But I believe that when it comes to my own honor—there are times when I must earn it with my own two hands!"

Kal hadn't expected things to unfold this way. He certainly hadn't anticipated that Robert would try to quash the entire affair with a royal decree.

But this wasn't what Kal had intended.

So, without the slightest hesitation, he stepped forward once more and stood squarely in Robert's way.

The crowd erupted into commotion again the moment Kal spoke those words.

Robert turned, studying Kal in the flickering firelight.

He looked closely at the boy before him—so strikingly similar to his younger self. The resemblance was uncanny, and those eyes… they were exactly the same color as his own.

Suddenly, Robert chuckled.

"Perhaps you're the first knight who actually listened to the words of the knighting oath," he said, "and not just another petty man who stabs his king in the back."

"You're right. I shouldn't stand in the way of your pursuit of honor."

With that, he glanced down at the longsword still in his hand—Kal's sword.

Then, raising it, he handed it to Kal personally.

"When you win, I'll give you the recognition you deserve."

...

Today had been a whirlwind of twists and turns—an utterly unpredictable series of events.

The crowd watching could barely keep up with the chaos.

At first, it looked like the Queen would have her way.

But then, in a sudden reversal, the King himself stepped in to serve as judge and flatly denied the request for a trial by combat.

And yet, in a twist no one saw coming, it was Karl Stone himself who objected to the King's decision.

He even stepped forward of his own accord, declaring that if it was about his honor, then he would reclaim it with his own hands.

People didn't quite understand Karl's decision.

But in that moment, there wasn't a single person who didn't respect the boy—barely come of age—and acknowledge that this was what it meant to be a man.

So once it was confirmed that the matter would indeed be settled through a trial by combat…

The onlookers were swept up in a tide of excitement, and without hesitation, they cleared a space in the courtyard of the Crossroads Inn as quickly as possible.

Karl had said he would resolve the matter tonight—and that it wouldn't delay their planned departure tomorrow.

So the trial by combat wouldn't be postponed until they reached Winterfell, as everyone had assumed.

No, it would be handled right here. Right now. Immediately.

The mood of the crowd shifted in an instant, their excitement growing, and any earlier feelings of pity for Karl had completely vanished.

After all, in this world, no one gives a damn how many bowls of porridge you've eaten.

What they care about is the show—and how many bowls of porridge you've got in you to throw back up.

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