The melee was fast and frantic. It took only a few minutes before most of the men were out of action. At first, Jaehaerys held back a little with his rivals, not wanting to draw too much attention to himself. But later, it wasn't necessary. In the end, two of his men remained: Brandon and the Hound. The Blackfish and Balon Swann were also still on their feet. Balon seemed to be getting into everything.
Balon and Ser Sandor fought, perhaps seeking to resolve the conflict from the previous day. That left only Brandon and Blackfish.
"Goodbye!" Brandon threw his sword to the ground as Jaehaerys walked toward him. His reaction drew boos and laughter from the crowd, but the northerner didn't care at all.
"Here you are again," said Blackfish. "What will you do with the prize?" he asked. Jaehaerys glanced sideways at the other duel. They seemed evenly matched.
Sandor was incredibly strong and fast. He was a furious fighter. Balon, on the other hand, was more methodical and agile. Jaehaerys thought he was watching Brandon and Tohrren fight.
"How much did you offer the men?" asked the prince. He would pay what Brynden promised. A good reputation would serve him well.
"A total of about 30,000 gold dragons," said the man.
"I'll pay them. Although it seems you gave up before you even fought," commented the prince, extending his blunt sword toward the man.
Brynden shrugged before charging. The man was agile and direct. His movements were neither pretty nor elegant. They were effective. In terms of skill, he was quite good. Jaehaerys thought that all the warriors, except Ser Arthur, would have difficulty fighting him.
"Do you surrender, Ser?" he asked after disarming him.
The combat lasted a few minutes; it was a tournament, after all. However, many people seemed a little disappointed. Perhaps the previous day's pitched battle had set expectations too high.
"What else can I do?" Brynden said. "What is your name, boy?" he repeated the same question from the previous day.
"Jaehaerys," the prince replied.
Brynden's eyes widened in surprise, then he smiled and finally frowned as if he remembered that the prince had impregnated his niece.
"Clever, you took all the attention off yourself," he said without reaction, then walked away.
Jaehaerys watched the fight between Balon and the Hound.
Balon deserved the white cloak. The man fought with a spear, he was very good with it, managing to keep Sandor at bay. Jaehaerys couldn't bet on who would win the fight. Although Sandor seemed to grow more desperate with each passing second, he wouldn't be surprised if he made a fatal mistake.
Jaehaerys waited.
He waited.
And waited.
He continued to wait.
"You two against me," he said after growing weary. He lunged first at Balon, who managed to dodge him, then at Sandor. The man seemed irritated, which led him to hold nothing back against the prince to whom he had sworn allegiance.
Both men worked together, attacking the prince. Jaehaerys heard the crowd roar. He allowed himself to give them a show for a few minutes.
'Nah, I don't have that much patience,' Jaehaerys had already spent a lot of time on Blackfish.
His sword broke Balon's spear in one blow, took the upper half, and pointed the tip of the spear at Sandor's neck; his sword pointed at Balon's.
"Pah!" Sandor spat on the ground as he dropped his sword and limped away. Balon let go of the shaft of his weapon.
"My king wishes to meet the Knight of the Red Cloak," said the White Cloak with dignity.
'A man like that is wasted under Rhaegar's command,' thought Jaehaerys. Although Balon used to protect his mother, which was a good thing.
The cheers of the crowd numbed the prince's ears. He looked up at the stands. The king stood up with a smile on his face. He must be happy. Brandon had reported that the prince had fallen ill with a fever.
Jaehaerys walked over and stood in front of the man. The king looked down at him. He looked regal, and if the prince didn't know him, he might say he looked like the true king of Westeros. But Tywin seemed to have his spoon too deep in the soup.
"The king wishes to see your face, Ser," Balon said again.
Jaehaerys nodded as he removed his helmet. He looked at his brother's face, his pale skin suddenly turning paler, as if he were ill. Then he smiled, uncomfortably.
"The kingdom rejoices at your recovery, brother," he said softly.
The crowd shouted wildly. Partly out of confusion and partly out of joy.
"I wanted to enjoy the tournament a little as an unknown. I didn't want privileges," said the prince.
By 'privileges,' he meant not being attacked by a horde of 1,000 men. He wasn't sure how many men Rhaegar and Tywin might add to the melee if they knew he was going to participate. Speaking of the Lion, Tywin looked at him from his seat, not acknowledging his presence.
1.5 million gold dragons. Tywin had given him 1.5 million dragons. Jaehaerys had no doubt that Lord Lannister would give them to him. "A Lannister always pays his debts." He had a reputation to uphold, one he would not throw away. After organizing the tournament with the biggest prizes, he couldn't be seen as a liar.
He looked at Lord Eddard, who seemed to already know who he was. Bran and Arya cheered him on, even though the girl seemed to be shouting obscenities at him.
"Prince. Because, despite winning the joust, you were unconscious. It was decided that the winner of the Meele would be the one to crown a Queen of Love and Beauty," said Tyrion Lannister as he gently threw him a crown made of yellow flowers.
"In that case, I don't have to think too hard," said the prince as he took the crown in his gloved hand, walked toward the Stark box, and watched Ned's eyes widen as he began to sweat. It was indeed a sight to behold, although he didn't want to bring back bad memories. Jaehaerys paused for a second to pick up a spear, removed the tip, and hooked the crown onto it.
"Jaehaerys, no," even Sansa's voice seemed panicked. He didn't care.
"The most beautiful lady in this tournament is undoubtedly... little Rhaelle," Jaehaerys extended the crown toward Sansa, who was holding her daughter.
He felt Ned breathe easier, even Sansa, and was a little glad that the redhead didn't want him to crown her.
After the coronation, a stifling silence ensued, broken only by Queen Rhaella's applause. Soon, more lords joined in awkwardly.
Jaehaerys watched as Sansa placed the crown of roses on the little girl's head. His daughter applauded, imitating the audience, then removed the crown and tried to eat it. Sansa gets the flowers out of her mouth in a second. The girl moved her mouth as if she were flavoring the flowers.
Everything was laughter and joy, albeit forced for some, until he noticed his little baby beginning to cough uncomfortably. He watched his daughter's face turn purple, her little hands go to her own neck.
He looked at the man who gave her the crown, Tyrion, the Imp, who looked as surprised as Jaehaerys.
Jaehaerys would remember Sansa's scream for the rest of his life.