The King's returning party had only reached the area near the Trident River.
The massive procession had traveled south from the North, crossed the Neck, passed through the Riverlands, and was now slowly moving along the Trident.
The King's wheelhouse was in the center of the column, flanked by Lannister guards. Golden lion banners snapped in the northern wind.
The party made camp by the river.
Bonfires were lit, tents pitched, and guards rotated shifts. Inside the King's tent, Robert and Eddard sat facing each other, drinking and talking.
It was a rare mont of privacy.
Since leaving Winterfell, they had almost no chance to sit down and speak properly. There were too many people traveling with them, too many eyes and ears. So things could only be kept in their hearts.
Robert held a horn cup, his face filled with reminiscence. "Ned, do you rember when we fought a battle by this river?"
Eddard nodded.
The Battle of the Trident — Robert had personally slain Rhaegar Targaryen there. It was the turning point of the rebellion.
That battle had seen rivers of blood and fields of corpses.
Countless lives had ended in that river — including Robert's enemies and his hatred.
"I really want to ditch this damned procession right now, ride south along the King's Road with you, find a tavern at night, and have the serving girls warm our beds. Instead of sitting in this broken wheelhouse, listening to that pack of lions yapping all day."
Eddard smiled but said nothing.
Robert looked at him and suddenly asked, "Did you ever tell Jon Snow about his mother?"
Eddard's expression turned sorrowful.
He recalled the recent farewell with Jon.
One heading north to the Wall, the other south to King's Landing.
At the mont of parting, Jon had asked about his mother. Eddard had not told him, only promised that when they t again, he would reveal the truth.
Lord Eddard's face showed grief. "No. He is still too young. It is not yet ti."
Robert was silent for a mont and did not press further.
He took a sealed letter from his chest and handed it to Eddard.
"Read this."
Eddard opened it. His expression changed slightly.
"Daenerys Targaryen has married a Dothraki khal."
He looked up. "So what? Are we supposed to send her a wedding gift?"
Robert drained his horn cup of "special Dragonfla."
"Perhaps we should send soone with courage… carrying a sharp blade."
Eddard frowned. "She is only a child."
Robert set down the cup, his gaze cold. "But that child will soon spread her legs and breed more of the dragon's poisonous blood. Before long, a horde of silver-haired, purple-eyed bastards will appear, raising the Targaryen banner and starting a new rebellion."
Eddard's frown deepened.
"This is too despicable."
He was a man of principle, guided by justice, and could not tolerate the King harming children.
Robert grew angry too.
"Rumor says this Khal Drogo commands a hundred-thousand-strong army!"
"The Dothraki are on the other side of the Narrow Sea. Even if they had a million n, what does it matter? They have no ships — they cannot cross!" Eddard countered.
Robert stared at him for a long while and finally dropped the argunt.
He knew his old friend's stubbornness. Once Eddard fixed on a moral point, not even nine oxen could pull him back.
There was no need to fall out over it now.
They could discuss it again once they reached King's Landing.
Accompanying Eddard to King's Landing were his two daughters.
Sansa Stark and Arya Stark.
Robert and Eddard had already verbally agreed on the betrothals: Sansa would marry Prince Joffrey, and Arya would marry Prince Tomn.
The two houses would be bound by marriage, strengthening the alliance.
This was politics, and it was tradition.
…
That day, Prince Joffrey was bitten by Arya's direwolf, Nyria.
The accounts differed. Joffrey claid the direwolf attacked him without reason. Arya said Joffrey had first threatened her with a sword.
But the result was the sa: the prince was injured, and the direwolf was guilty.
Arya drove Nyria away, letting her flee into the wild.
Thus, Sansa's direwolf, Lady, beca the scapegoat.
Robert reluctantly ordered the wolf's execution.
Eddard carried it out himself.
That night, Arya held her sister as the two girls cried together.
Sansa could not understand why her Lady had to bear the punishnt for Arya's Nyria.
Arya could not understand why Joffrey could lie, could fra others, and could walk away unpunished.
They were still too young to understand that in this world, many things had no justice.
Shortly afterward, the King issued a proclamation to the Seven Kingdoms: the Lord of the North would assu the position of "Hand of the King," and on the day the new Hand took office, a grand tourney would be held. Lords from across the realm were invited to attend. The tourney offered rich prizes and encouraged warriors from every land to participate.
The news spread throughout the Seven Kingdoms — and it also reached the south shore of the God's Eye.
Luke received the King's invitation, urging him to co to King's Landing to witness the event.
That night, in Draco, inside the lord's study.
Luke sat at his desk, reading through a thick stack of docunts. These were intelligence reports from the "Web."
The "Web" was Luke's intelligence agency, headed by the woman nad Aurora.
The number of "little spiders" in the Web might not yet match Varys's decades of "little birds," but they had the advantage of modern technology — bugs, hidden caras, and more.
Their ability to gather intelligence was in no way inferior to that of the eunuch master of whispers.
In addition, Luke had taught Aurora knowledge of "intelligence studies" and "cryptography" from Earth.
With ample funding, Aurora had already established Web branches across the Seven Kingdoms and on the other side of the Narrow Sea.
Almost every few days, Luke received information from all over the world.
News from the North, from King's Landing, from the Vale, from the Westerlands, from Dorne, and even from across the Narrow Sea… all flowed here.
Right now he was reading the latest intelligence summary.
In the adjacent bedroom, Michelle — wearing white stockings — lay on the bed, playing with a tablet.
Annie, Emma, and Michelle — his three personal maids — had all learned to use these "magical devices" — computers, tablets, phones.
She had already beco quite proficient.
Curious, she had inserted the storage device Bronn had brought back into the tablet.
The screen lit up.
The footage appeared.
It showed the interior of an old, abandoned tower. The lighting was dim, but the figures were still clear.
A golden-haired man and woman were flirting.
The man was extrely handso, with golden hair, wearing a white knight's cloak. The woman was also beautiful, with golden hair, wearing an elegant gown.
From their conversation, it was obvious:
The man was Jai Lannister, of the Kingsguard, the Kingslayer.
The woman was Cersei Lannister, the Queen, wife of the King.
They began fucking… no, this was incest!
Michelle's eyes widened, her breathing quickened.
She stared at the couple's actions on the screen and listened to the obscene sounds, completely stunned.
To an outsider, it would look like she was watching a porno.
Suddenly, she heard footsteps.
Luke's footsteps.
She panicked and hurriedly turned off the tablet.
Luke walked into the bedroom and saw Michelle's flustered expression. He deliberately asked:
"Michelle, what were you watching?"
Michelle's face turned bright red as she shook her head frantically. "N-nothing…"
She tried to hide the tablet, but accidentally brushed the power button. The screen lit up.
The volu was still on.
Imdiately, the tablet's speakers played the intense gasps and moans of Jai and Cersei.
Michelle's face burned with embarrassnt. She didn't know what to do.
Luke paused for a second, then smiled.
He walked over, sat on the edge of the bed, and took the tablet.
"Let see whether it really was Jai who pushed Bran from the tower."
Michelle lowered her head, too ashad to look at him.
The video continued playing…
Michelle kept her head down, her face as red as a cooked shrimp.
Luke smiled, reached out, and lifted her chin.
"Let's investigate the case together!"
Michelle looked up, her eyes misty with tears…
Two hours later, Luke walked out of the bedroom refreshed and clear-headed.
Confird.
It really was Jai who had pushed Bran Stark from the tower.
Michelle had thrown herself into the investigation too enthusiastically and had already fallen into a deep sleep.
…
At the end of March, after half a year, Luke returned once more to King's Landing.
This was the place where his dream had begun.
It was here that he had earned his first pot of gold — selling rock sugar, perfu, and all kinds of magical goods. Then, through Petyr Baelish's arrangents, he had obtained the title of baron and his own lands. Afterward, he had led more than a thousand refugees from King's Landing to open up territory on the south shore of the God's Eye.
Now he was back.
He was accompanied by fifty mbers of the Jaqenion Family Guard.
They wore fine, uniform half-plate armor and black cloaks, swords at their waists and spears in hand. Each horse also carried a round shield, a bow, arrows, and provisions.
The formation was neat and imposing.
When they reached the city gate, the gold cloaks checked their identities and let them through. Nobles were permitted to bring a small number of retainers into the city — that was the rule.
The mont this column entered the city, it beca the center of attention.
Pedestrians on both sides of the street stopped to watch, whispering and pointing.
"Which house's n are these?"
"I've never seen that banner before…"
"I heard it's that newly ennobled baron from the south shore of the God's Eye — Luke Jaqenion, I think."
"The one who won the Battle of White Ridge Pass?"
"Yes, yes, that's him! I wonder if Lord Luke is still recruiting. I really regret not following him to the God's Eye back then."
Spies scattered in all directions, each returning to their master's residence to report the news.
Luke paid no attention to the stares. He led his n straight toward Rhaenys's Hill.
He still owned several properties there.
The mansions he had bought when he first made his fortune would serve as a perfect base.
The column crossed the streets and climbed the hill, finally stopping in front of a grand residence.
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