Father of the Riverlanders, Patriarchal Rule

Suleiman's order swept through the land like a bitter wind.

It reached every corner of the West Riverlands.

An entire house, wiped out.

Those four words weighed heavily on every noble in the West Riverlands.

The lords who had spoken so boldly in their castles now bowed their proud heads.

There were no enemies, no battles, no sieges.

Drawbridge after drawbridge came down. Gate after gate swung open, and the castles passed into Morrison's hands.

The lords of the West Riverlands set out for King's Landing with their families, their wagons laden with valuables and stretching into a long procession.

Others had read the situation quickly. Once they heard of Suleiman's decisive victory,

they had hurried over with their troops, claiming they had come to answer their liege lord's call.

In the command tent.

The air was heavy inside the enormous tent, large enough to hold hundreds.

Suleiman sat in the place of honor.

The lords of the East Riverlands sat to either side, their expressions varied, though all carried the pride and reserve of victors.

Hundreds of Riverlands knights stood behind the chairs on both sides.

In the open space at the center stood the lord of Pinkmaiden.

Clement Piper knelt on one knee, his hands resting on it. He even took care to keep his breathing quiet.

Cold sweat slid down his forehead and fell onto the earth, where it vanished at once.

"Lord Piper."

Suleiman's voice came from above, betraying neither pleasure nor anger.

Clement Piper flinched and bowed his head lower. "Yes."

"Raise your head, Lord Piper."

Suleiman spoke again.

Clement Piper stiffened, then slowly looked up, his eyes full of fear and unease.

He saw Suleiman's young face and those unfathomable eyes.

"I forgive your offense."

Suleiman said it as though it were nothing.

Clement