Varys clasped his hands together. "The Queen has always been willful. Add a bloodthirsty lord to the mix, and we might as well sit back and enjoy the rare spectacle unfolding in King's Landing."
Petyr Baelish's gaze shifted. "Master of Whisperers, you seem worried about something."
"While King Robert sits firmly upon the Iron Throne, nothing will get out of hand. That's why I sleep soundly every night."
"Ha! The premise behind your words is enough to make my blood run cold. With nothing but coins for company every day, I find myself growing more and more worried that something might happen. After speaking with you tonight, I doubt I'll sleep soundly."
Varys inclined his head apologetically. "I'm sorry, Master of Coin. I was only remarking on the state of King's Landing, but somehow I've left you feeling uneasy. My tongue has lost its sweetness and spread unease instead."
Petyr Baelish instinctively sensed the danger Varys posed—a danger he had never paid much attention to before.
Petyr Baelish quietly considered the hidden purpose behind Varys's words, but showed nothing on his face. "Well, it was only a joke. Too bad I'm not much of a humorist. I still have to wait for Lord Arryn to receive me. Have a good day."
Petyr Baelish gave Varys an elegant smile and took his leave.
The Eunuch's thoughts were the hardest to fathom. This meeting was certainly no coincidence, and Petyr Baelish had already decided to be more wary of Varys.
Varys watched Petyr's departing figure in silence. The smile on his face gradually faded.
Daaang~ daang~ da-da-daang~ daang~ da-da-daang~~~~
Gryn stood at the bow, gazing at mighty King's Landing and the towering Red Keep, a tune from his previous life rising in his mind.
After three days and two nights at sea, King's Landing was close at hand.
Quite a few people in the party had suffered from seasickness, keeping Crabb's three physicians busy throughout the journey.
Transporting soldiers from Whispers to King's Landing by sea was the quickest and easiest option. By land, they would have to pass through too many territories, making the journey long and arduous.
It was the soldiers' first time at sea, and seasickness could easily affect large numbers of them. To keep it from affecting their combat effectiveness in the future, they would need to get used to sailing in advance.
It would take some time to consolidate control over the eastern part of Crackclaw Point. After that, Gryn planned to "push west," stopping at Rook's Rest and taking control of the peninsula's western region.
Ideally, he would first secure the title of Warden of Crackclaw Point. Then his westward advance would have a legitimate basis.
The merchant ship carrying Gryn entered the Blackwater Rush from Blackwater Bay and docked at the busy Mud Gate—known to the locals as the Muddy Gate.
The people working on the docks suddenly felt an uncomfortable prickle across their skin, as if they were being stung. They couldn't help stopping what they were doing.
The sensation wasn't unfamiliar. It was the aura forged through years of blood and fire. They had seen plenty of people like this, but this time the feeling was stronger. One by one, they all turned their eyes in the same direction.
They saw a group of guards in bright silver plate armor, as tall and broad as iron towers, surrounding a young man.
The young man was tall and slender. He wore a blue tunic embroidered with a Marsh Marigold over the right breast, white trousers, and a pair of deerskin boots.
He was strikingly handsome, delicate without looking feminine, and carried a composure beyond his years.
Those who had worked at the King's Landing docks for years had long since developed sharp eyes. They all stepped aside, making plenty of room for Gryn and his party.
Leyton, Surana's eldest son, had finally caught up with Gryn and his party. "Good day, my lord."
Gryn endured the jumble of odors on the docks, his brow furrowing slightly. "Have you found us a place to stay in King's Landing?"
"Yes. I'd just finished dealing with Crabb Manor when I received a raven from Steward Herschel. My lord, it was settled yesterday, and the house has been prepared. It's near Hook Harbor. I'll show you the way."
Gryn mounted the horse Mutton had brought over. The clansmen mounted their own steeds, gathering around him.
King's Landing, Hook Harbor, the house Gryn had rented temporarily.
After a hot bath, Gryn felt much better.
Surana took his towel. "Are you leaving only twenty guards with yourself?"
"We're not here to fight." Gryn sat down on a bench and let out a breath before continuing. "I noticed plenty of eyes watching us along the way. This will be enough. Mutton and Foley can take charge of the guards. You take the rest of the people to the manor outside the city and get settled."
Surana folded the towel. "Leave two maids and a physician behind as well. We should be prepared for anything."
Gryn nodded. "You're always so thoughtful, Surana."
"I've already had Leyton deliver the letter requesting an audience with Her Grace the Queen. I included this address. While we wait, you can rest and recover from the journey."
"Leave Leyton here. I'll feel at ease with him managing the house."
That evening, at the Knight's Tavern in Hook Harbor.
Gryn sat alone at a table, eating dinner. Mutton and the others sat nearby, tucking into their food. After half a day of rest, their appetites had finally recovered from the long voyage.
The tavern door opened once more, and a short figure stepped inside.
Gryn's seat gave him a clear view of the entrance. Tyrion Lannister's distinctive appearance was unmistakable; Gryn recognized him at a glance.
Gryn showed no sign of recognition and continued eating. The roast beef here is really good.
Tyrion Lannister tugged at the bell by the tavern door.
Ding-a-ling~!
The bell drew everyone's attention, and Gryn followed the crowd, turning his eyes toward Tyrion Lannister.
Tyrion Lannister raised his voice. "Everyone, I have to tell you—you're all in luck today. Your food and drink tonight are on me!"
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