Chapter 178

Nestor Royce’s three-day growth of grey stubble covered his chin and cheeks, yet his eyes remained bright and alert. He looked up at Domeric Bolton upon the high seat. In his view the Hand of the King who had come from King’s Landing appeared a merciful man—willing to grant him, before all the assembled lords of the Vale, a chance to prove his innocence.

Many familiar faces were present. Nestor saw the weather-beaten features of ancient Lord Hunter, the mild countenance of Lord Horton Redfort, the sword-thin figure of Ser Lyn Corbray, the heavy belly of Lord Benedar Belmore, and the widowed Lady Waynwood surrounded by her many sons… Most of the principal lords of the Vale were here. There were also several banners he did not recognise—a fat merman with a trident, a direwolf with a trout in its jaws, a flayed wolf upon a field of pink. Those, he supposed, belonged to the northern lords who had accompanied the Hand from King’s Landing.

Domeric spoke first. “Nestor Royce, former High Steward of the Vale, this is your public trial. Do you confess to the murder of Lady Lysa?”