The Escort Squad

The ship sailed across the sea, and time flowed by in a rush.

Inside the luxurious cabin, Aemon lay flat on his back, sprawled bonelessly across the soft bed.

His eyes were vacant, like a worn-out little wreck that had been played with too much.

He regretted it.

The sea was nowhere near as wonderful as he had imagined. The rocking after the waves struck left him dizzy and nauseous.

"What Pirate King?" Aemon grabbed a corner of the small blanket, on the verge of collapse. "Sea, you've conquered me."

There was none of the high spirits he'd had when setting sail that morning.

If this kept up, he was going to puke himself unconscious.

Knock knock!

The cabin door was knocked on, then gently pushed open.

An elderly nun in a black-and-white dress entered carrying a lamp, a basket filled with needles, thread, and cloth in her other hand.

"Martha, you're finally here."

Aemon, who had been waiting desperately, instantly came back to life. He rolled off the bed in a little dragon flip.

Old Martha set down the oil lamp, her face showing helpless affection. "Don't rush. Luckily, I prepared needles and thread before boarding."

"Come on, then. I want to get a good night's sleep."

Barefoot, Aemon thumped over to the bedside and pulled out a basket stuffed with Sweetgrass.

For some reason, Sweetgrass contained a trace of magic.

But to make use of it, it needed careful processing.

The old nun possessed superb sewing skills and could weave the soft, delicate Sweetgrass into a sleeping mat.

"This grass is too soft and fine. It won't do if it's woven by itself."

Under the Little Prince's burning gaze, Old Martha shook her head but patiently began weaving the blades of grass.

She then took a piece of blue cloth from the basket to use as backing, fastening the woven grass mat to it with needle and thread.

Aemon squatted beside the old woman's legs. Gone was his usual resistance toward the Seven Gods Grand Ceremony as he blinked and studied earnestly.

When traveling, it never hurt to have more skills.

Unfortunately, after watching for a while, his eyelids started fighting each other.

Martha was deft and skillful. She gently suggested, "Prince, it's still light outside. Why don't you go play for a while and sleep tonight?"

Children were playful. If he slept now, he would only lie awake later that night.

Aemon understood that too. Rubbing his eyes, he agreed. "All right. Be careful too. Don't prick your hand."

He gave a huge yawn and turned toward the cabin exit.

The old nun was his governess. Not only did she teach him the faith of the Seven Gods, she also handled everything concerning his food, clothing, and daily needs.

Though she was strict when forcing him to recite the Seven Gods Grand Ceremony, she was very gentle in everyday life.

She was a very good old woman.

Martha smiled at his reminder and continued weaving carefully by lamplight, her hands never stopping.

There was plenty of grass in the basket. The leftovers could be sewn into a pillow for the prince.

Aboard the Prince Aemon, on deck.

Aemon stood beneath the blue sky and white clouds again, his small figure particularly eye-catching.

"Prince, over here."

Just as he was about to find somewhere to get some fresh air, William waved repeatedly from behind the mast.

Aemon looked puzzled, but his feet did not stop moving.

Let's see what this was about!

Aside from the piled cargo crates, the deck was occupied by Vale Knights flying the banners of House Royce.

Around the mast, three people sat together.

Aemon looked suspiciously at them and made a small sound of surprise. "Are you three having a gathering?"

Besides the young William, the other two were Runestone's Trainer Gonsal and the Seagull Knight, Ser Lyon Shett.

Bottles of liquor and food had been casually laid out on the deck. It looked like they were halfway through eating.

"Ptooey!"

Gonsal focused only on eating. His fan-sized hand picked up an unpeeled orange and bit into it, juice splattering all over his mouth.

Without looking up once, he stuffed several grapes into his mouth and spat out the seeds.

Aemon's mouth twitched slightly.

He had a problem with him, didn't he?

Fortunately, not everyone present was such a rough brute, so things did not become too awkward.

Ser Lyon rose neatly to his feet, removed his gray-white cloak and folded it into a cushion. Smiling, he said, "Prince, the deck is damp and cold. Be careful not to catch a chill."

After saying that, he placed it beneath Aemon's bottom and made an inviting gesture.

"Thank you." Aemon accepted without hesitation.

See? At least someone knew what they were doing.

He glanced at Gonsal, whose mouth was stuffed full, and his little brows unconsciously furrowed.

Weren't knights supposed to be gentle, courteous, humble, and yielding? Did this guy sneak in through the back door?

"Forget it. I won't stoop to his level."

Aemon touched his still fairly round belly. He had no interest in joining their picnic, so he got straight to the point. "Why did you call me over?"

"We're the escort team assigned to protect you."

William had the fastest mouth and blurted it out.

The little dragon frowned at once and counted on his fingers, only to come up with nothing.

He had never had a dedicated escort team before. They had always just grabbed strong men at random from among the guards.

"Who's in it?" Aemon asked uneasily, his bright gaze sweeping over them.

Since they were protecting him, there should at least be eight or ten people, right?

There were fifty Vale Knights accompanying his mother.

Ser Lyon maintained his elegance at all times and smiled apologetically. "Just the three of us."

"Hm?" Aemon froze.

Those three? Surely he didn't mean these three standing right in front of him.

When Aemon's gaze passed over him, William puffed out his chest and slapped his bronze breastplate with a loud clatter.

"He counts too?"

Aemon looked utterly incredulous, even the finger pointing at the show-off trembling.

Ser Lyon, the only normal person among them, nodded gently and answered warmly, "William is very brave. Gonsal and I will also do our utmost to protect your safety."

Brave didn't mean useful!

Aemon had seen enough to know the whole picture, and his last shred of hope finally died.

But when he looked at Gonsal, who was still stuffing himself, he could barely accept it.

Gonsal stood over seven feet tall, his body packed with solid muscle. The muscles in his arms bulged high beneath his clothes.

Even if he were just for show, he could still match five Williams.

By that count, William was worth half a knight, while Gonsal alone was worth two and a half knights.

Aemon counted on his fingers, thinking he had gained two extra Williams... my ass!

Aemon covered his face in disappointment and resigned himself to it.

Three it was, then. Gonsal looked fierce enough. It was still better than having no one at all like before.

After recovering for quite a while, Aemon remembered the important question. "Did my mother arrange this? What did she say?"

Surely she hadn't suddenly been overwhelmed by motherly love for no reason.

Ser Lyon immediately answered, "Once we go ashore, the situation in King's Landing will be very complicated. As a prince, you should have personal guards."

His martial skills were not poor, so he would serve as a temporary guard.

Aemon grew serious at those words.

As the capital of the Seven Kingdoms, King's Landing's powers were tangled and complicated, like a rat's nest open on all sides.

It was indeed necessary to arrange several personal guards.

Having figured that out, he looked at the other two again.

He knew about the Seagull Knight. He was thoughtful and capable in dealing with people. But what about you two?

William blushed and scratched his head hard.

He did not want to be an escort either. Lady Rhea had ordered it.

As for Gonsal, he raised a bottle of rum and gulped it down. After finishing it, he let out a huge belch.

William tactfully explained, "There are people guarding Runestone, so Gonsal came out to relax."

Aemon took it all in, his little claw stroking his chin.

As far as he knew, Gonsal was not doing particularly well at Runestone.

For one thing, the kingdom was at peace, so his great martial strength had nowhere to be used.

For another, Gonsal was stubborn and crude, always speaking roughly. He was not well liked among the nobility.

"Could it be that Mother doesn't think much of him either, so she tossed him to me to fill out the numbers?"

Aemon's eyes rolled around as he felt like he had picked up a bargain.

Seeing Gonsal's gloomy appearance, he opened his mouth to strike up a conversation.

"Aemon, come here!"

Just as he opened his little mouth, his mother's stiff voice suddenly came from behind him.

Aemon hurriedly turned around, swallowing his words.

According to the platform's rules, launching a new book was a little complicated.

A new book was only added to the catalog after twenty thousand words, followed by all kinds of recommendation competitions.

Zhou Zhou's book hadn't even been added to the catalog yet~