At this moment, the maid's eyes lit up.
Success! The prince had noticed her!
She suppressed the wild joy in her heart, lowered her gaze, and revealed a shy yet respectful expression.
"My name is Alice Hightower, Your Highness."
She deliberately placed a slight emphasis on the word "Hightower."
"My father is Ser Rodrik Hightower. He is the younger brother of Hand Otto and currently serves as the captain of the port garrison in Oldtown."
"My mother is Daisy Florent, from House Florent of Brightwater Keep…"
However, that cold voice cut her off.
"I asked what your name was."
"I did not ask about your parents."
"Are you reciting a list of dishes for me?"
"Or do you think this is amusing?"
Faced with the indifferent words, she was momentarily stunned, as events had deviated from the script she had imagined.
Next, the prince should have shown interest, inquired about her family background, and she could then naturally mention how she had listened to stories of the Targaryens since childhood and held them in deep admiration.
Aemond glanced toward his mother, Alicent.
Alicent shook her head.
These collateral branches of noble houses…
"That's enough." Aemond did not wish to continue speaking with this self-styled clever girl.
"Put the pudding down, then leave."
The smile on Alice's face froze. She parted her lips slightly, and the moisture in her blue eyes this time was genuine—shock mixed with humiliation.
She could hardly believe that the encounter she had so carefully designed had ended in such casual indifference.
In the end, Alice bit her lower lip, carefully placed the dessert plate at the center of the dining table, performed a curtsy so precise it was beyond reproach, and quietly withdrew from the dining hall.
After the door closed, Alicent let out a long sigh and rubbed her temples.
"Rodrik's daughter… she arrived in King's Landing with her family's trade caravan half a month ago."
"Lord Hightower said the girl was clever and quick-witted, worth further instruction, and hoped she might come to the Red Keep to see the world beyond her home."
"I had originally intended to arrange for her to serve at my side as an ordinary maid and observe her for a few days."
She could not help but reflect on this calculating girl from a noble family.
With Alicent's successful ascent to queenship, it was only natural that the collateral branches of House Hightower saw hope in rising with her.
But Alicent had never expressed affection for the king; it had been Viserys who proposed the marriage to her family.
She had once opposed it, but her father, Otto, had made arrangements for her.
And Alice, clearly, wished to replicate the path Alicent had walked—to become a maid at the side of royalty, to win favor through beauty and scheming, and in the end to step into…
"A fool," Aemond concluded.
"But she really is quite beautiful," Helaena said softly.
Aemond looked at Helaena. When she said this, there was not the slightest hint of jealousy in her tone.
That stirred a complex emotion within Aemond, along with a vague, hard-to-describe sense of loss.
Just then, a faint rustling sound came from the corner of the room.
Helaena heard it first. She turned her head, her violet eyes fixing on the source of the sound—the narrow gap between the sideboard and the wall.
"What's that noise?"
The sound came again, clearer this time: a burst of hurried scratching, like sharp nails scraping against wood, accompanied by faint, squeaking sounds.
Helaena's eyes widened. She clenched the spoon in her hand and leaned forward slightly.
In the next instant, a plump gray rat darted out of the shadows!
It was as large as a human palm, its fur greasy, its tail thin and long, its tiny eyes flashing briefly in the light.
It scurried across the floor at breakneck speed, leaving behind only a streak of gray, then plunged straight beneath the tablecloth beside Helaena's chair and vanished.
"Ah!" Helaena let out a short cry and hastily climbed up onto the chair with both feet.
The movement was too sudden; her elbow knocked over the crystal goblet at the edge of the table.
Clang!
The cup rolled to the floor and shattered into pieces. Clear water splashed everywhere.
Alicent was startled as well, but she quickly steadied herself, stood up, and drew her daughter's trembling shoulders into her arms.
The girl had been afraid of things like rats and spiders since childhood.
"It's all right, Helaena. It was just a rat. It's already run off," Alicent soothed her gently, lightly patting her daughter's back.
Then the queen's brows knit tightly. As she turned toward the door, her voice suddenly turned cold. "Guards!"
The door was pushed open at once. Alice entered first, with two other maids hurrying in behind her.
"Your Grace?" Alice's voice was still sweet. Her gaze swept quickly over the dining table, paused on Aemond for a brief instant, then darted away.
"There was a rat in the dining hall?" Alicent said coldly.
"This is the queen's residence. This is where the House of Targaryen takes its meals!"
"How do you normally clean this place? How do you keep watch?"
The noble maids' faces all went pale. In unison, they dropped to their knees. The older maid spoke in a trembling voice: "Your Grace, please forgive us! We scrub the floors every day with lavender and mint water, and we scatter bitter wormwood along the walls to repel rats…"
"We… we do not know how that rat could have—"
"You do not know?" Alicent cut her off, restraining her anger. "That is your explanation to me? You do not know?"
"What if it had been a venomous snake today?"
"What if the rat had bitten Princess Helaena? Can you absolve yourselves with a single 'we do not know'?"
The maids lay prostrate on the floor, not daring to lift their heads.
Aemond watched the scene in silence. His expression had already undergone a subtle change the moment he heard the word rat.
His violet eyes narrowed slightly, dark currents surging within them.
Rats…
Filthy things that lived in the shadows…
Yet sometimes, the filthiest things were best suited to carry out the filthiest deeds.
In his memory, two names surfaced, reeking of blood and stench: 'Blood and Cheese.'
That infamous act of "a son for a son."
Aemond's gaze shifted to Helaena.
Because he had struck first and committed kin-slaying, this innocent woman had been dragged into the abyss of bloodshed among kin.
Forced to watch her own child tortured and murdered before her eyes, her mind shattered completely, and in the end she leapt from the high tower of Maegor's Holdfast…
Her life should not have been this way.
"Aemond?" Alicent noticed her son's unusual silence.
She released Helaena and looked at her second son with concern.
"What's wrong? You look terrible… are you feeling unwell?"
Aemond came back to himself. He drew a deep breath, pulling away from that dark future.
"It's nothing," he said.
"I just think… the Red Keep's sanitation needs a thorough overhaul."
"If rats can get into the dining hall of Maegor's Holdfast, they can get anywhere."
"Father's study, your chambers, Helaena's bedchamber…"
He paused.
"This is no small matter."
Just then, the dining hall door was pushed open.
This time, a middle-aged man entered, about fifty years old, somewhat heavyset but solidly built. He wore a dark brown uniform of finely woven wool, with the three-headed dragon sigil of House Targaryen pinned to his chest.
His features were kindly, his gray hair combed neatly, and a short beard trimmed close along his jaw.
"Your Grace, Prince, Princess," the man said, bowing. His manner was respectful but not servile, the calm bearing of one shaped by many years in royal service.
"I am Gyles Rosby. I heard the disturbance and came to see what had happened."
"Lord Gyles," Alicent nodded to the steward, her tone easing slightly.
Gyles Rosby.
A younger son of House Rosby of the Crownlands. After Viserys I ascended the throne, he had been appointed Lord Steward of the royal household and had served the royal family for many years.
He was known for his loyalty, efficiency, and rigor, keeping the daily affairs of the Red Keep in meticulous order and enjoying the king's deep trust.
"A rat appeared in the dining hall and frightened Helaena," Alicent said.
Gyles's brows immediately drew together.
He crouched down to inspect the shadows along the wall, then went to examine the area beside the hangings.
When he straightened, his expression was grave.
"Your Grace, this is truly an unforgivable lapse," he said heavily, turning toward the maids kneeling on the floor.
"Go at once and inform the master of kitchens and the head of servants. I want to see them within the hour."
"Before dawn tomorrow, every corner of Maegor's Holdfast—I mean every single corner—" he said.
"—must be thoroughly cleaned. All food stores are to be fitted with double layers of iron rat-proof mesh, and fresh powders are to be scattered again along the walls."
He added, "And summon the ratcatchers."
"Find the best ratcatchers in King's Landing. I want them to conduct a full inspection of the Red Keep's sewers and secret passages, to see whether there are any rat nests."
"Secret passages?" Aemond suddenly spoke, cutting across the steward's words.
Everyone turned to look at him.
Aemond rose to his feet.
"Lord Gyles," Aemond asked, "you have overseen the affairs of the Red Keep for many years. You must have some knowledge of its secret passages, do you not?"
Seeing the prince address him directly, Gyles explained, "Your Highness, I myself do not know those passages very well. They twist and turn endlessly."
"These ratcatchers have served the Red Keep for generations. They are quite familiar with the secret ways."
Aemond knew well enough: the secret passages of the Red Keep had been built by the "cruel" Maegor I, and once construction was complete, all the craftsmen had been put to death by Maegor himself.
But after King Maegor's death, aside from those whose work required them to catch rats, no one troubled themselves to understand those passages any longer.
The hearts of the Targaryen royal house truly were broad—such a great hidden danger, ignored and unseen.
Aemond asked, "I want to know—among those ratcatchers, are there two with the nicknames Blood and Cheese?"
Gyles paused, momentarily taken aback, then fell into thought.
The dining hall grew utterly silent. Alicent looked at her son in confusion.
After a moment, Gyles spoke hesitantly, "Blood and Cheese… yes, that does sound familiar."
"That's right—about four or five years ago, there were indeed two men assigned to rat-catching duties in the dungeons and sewer sections of the Red Keep."
"They were said to be quite skilled. Even the most cunning rats could not escape their traps."
He thought for a moment, then continued. "But their reputation… is not very good. Some guards said that aside from catching rats, they would occasionally steal items belonging to the royal household."
"At the time, I believed the pair had unclean hands, but there was no evidence. So I found a pretext and sent them away."
"Later, I heard they were scraping by around Flea Bottom."
Gyles looked toward Aemond, a questioning note in his eyes. "Why does Your Highness suddenly ask about these two men?"
"They are lowborn wretches, their names sullied. They are hardly worth your attention."
Aemond did not answer directly. He turned and walked back toward the table. As he passed Helaena, he gently patted his sister's shoulder.
The simple gesture made Helaena tremble slightly—not from fear, but from an emotion difficult to put into words.
She lifted her eyes and met her brother's gaze. In the depths of those violet eyes, she seemed to glimpse his thoughts…
Concern for her?
"I have only heard some people say that their skill is the finest," Aemond said as he sat down again.
"Since the Red Keep needs a thorough purge of its rats, it stands to reason that the best should be employed. Wouldn't you agree, Lord Gyles?"
Gyles' expression grew troubled.
"Your Highness, those two live in the most chaotic streets of Flea Bottom, where all manner of people mix. Finding them may take some effort."
"And even if they are found, allowing them into the Red Keep… would that truly be appropriate? Their backgrounds are not clean."
"I will have Ser Cole accompany you," Aemond said, leaving no room for dispute.
"He is familiar with such matters—and knows how to deal with… that sort of person."
The steward hesitated briefly, then bowed and accepted the order. "As you command, Your Highness. I will make the arrangements at once."
He withdrew from the dining hall. Before leaving, he cast a glance at the maids still kneeling on the floor, signaling for them to withdraw as well.
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