The study door at Harrenhal stood half-open, and Suleiman could hear the argument inside.
He stopped at the doorway and did not enter at once.
"No! I absolutely will not agree!"
An aged yet resolute voice rang out. It was Jon Arryn.
"They're only children! Robert! Children!"
This was Eddard Stark's voice, carrying the chill of The North, hard and indisputable.
"Children? Once a dragon's spawn grows up, does it stop being a dragon?"
"Ned! Your honor has made you a fool!"
Then came Robert Baratheon's roar, like an enraged stag.
Under the watchful eyes of the Kingsguard, Suleiman slowly retreated into the shadows and listened in silence.
He had come to ask the king to issue a decree, but this was clearly not the time.
Inside, the atmosphere had already frozen solid.
Robert Baratheon's massive body paced back and forth across the room, each step making the floor tremble faintly.
"I just received word! That beggar dragon and his little dragon sister are hiding in Pentos! Living off the charity of some magistrate!"
He stopped and slammed a fist onto the map table.
"I'll send an assassin over there! End it once and for all!"
Eddard Stark's eyes were filled with disappointment.
"Robert, we did not win the throne through assassination. Doing this will stain your crown."
Robert Baratheon laughed loudly, but there was not the slightest joy in his laughter. "My crown?"
"Ned! Have you forgotten what Rhaegar did to Lyanna? Have you forgotten what the Mad King did to your father and brother?"
Eddard Stark's face turned ashen. "I haven't forgotten. Not for a single day."
He stared directly at Robert Baratheon, his gaze like two cold steel blades.
"But taking revenge on children is not the Stark way, nor should it be the Baratheon way."
Robert