King's Landing's Great Change

The air in the Small Council chamber was heavy.

Beyond the tall windows, the clamor of King's Landing merged into a ceaseless, low roar, like the howl of some imprisoned beast.

Jon Arryn sat in the Hand's seat, feeling as though he had aged ten years.

His eye sockets were sunken and bloodshot, his graying hair plastered messily against his sweat-damp forehead.

The parchment report on the table had been crushed into deep creases by his hand, which trembled uncontrollably.

Though he had never liked Jonos Slynt, he had previously found two witnesses willing to testify to his crimes.

However, both men had been found murdered before they could testify in court, leaving him unable to remove the man from office.

If Robert had not protected him, Jon Arryn would have stripped Jonos Slynt of his post even without evidence.

Jon Arryn spoke, his voice hoarse. "Jonos Slynt."

"Is he really dead?"

Meryn Trant stood at the door, his posture straight, but his face was as pale as his Kingsguard white cloak.

"Yes, my lord Hand."

"He and several of his officers were thrown from the barracks tower by the mob.

"The bodies... the bodies were impaled on the flagpoles outside the Gold Cloaks' barracks."

Jon Arryn closed his eyes, as if he could see the bloody scene.

The commander of the City Watch, an appointed officer of the king, displayed like a rag pierced on a pole.

Jon Arryn's eyes snapped open, and he slammed a fist onto the heavy oak table.

"Rebellion!"

"This is naked rebellion!"

His roar echoed through the chamber, making the candle flames tremble.

"I'll hang them all! Every last person involved! Every one of them!"

He turned to the Master of Coin.

"Petyr!"

"How many Gold Cloaks are still usable?"

Petyr Baelish sat quietly