The Queen's Chamberlain

At the Red Keep, in the Queen's Ballroom, white curtains embroidered with gold thread stirred in the breeze.

Cersei Lannister reclined in a golden bathtub, her shoulders above the water. Sunlight glimmered on the droplets beading along her collarbones.

Tap, tap, tap.

Jaime made no effort to hide his footsteps and appeared openly in Cersei's line of sight.

Queen Cersei toyed with her silky golden hair, exuding charm. "Have you and your little brother finally finished your heartwarming conversation?"

Jaime frowned slightly. "Cersei, he's worried about you too. You should be grateful."

Jaime hadn't said Tyrion's name in front of Cersei. He'd reluctantly used "he" instead.

Cersei scoffed, her tone mocking. "I am the daughter of the Old Lion and the Queen! You're all so full of yourselves. I can make my own decisions; I don't need anyone telling me what to do. You need only bow your heads and obey!"

Cersei rose from the bath and lifted her chin slightly as she stared at Jaime.

Jaime sighed inwardly. He didn't want to repeat an argument they'd had countless times. He picked up a wine-red robe and went over to drape it around Cersei's shoulders.

Only then did Cersei smile in satisfaction. She padded barefoot to the side and took a sip of wine.

Cersei held her goblet with effortless grace, her beautiful eyes seemingly glowing. "Did that useless dwarf find out anything worthwhile?"

Jaime spread his hands. "Not bad. He's worth bringing over to our side."

Cersei mocked him again. "Hmph. You spent that long talking over a scrap of information like this? I'm truly worried about the future of the Lannisters. You're all so slow. I learned all this from Lord Gryn's letter ages ago, and you still wasted so much of my time."

Jaime wouldn't have repeated Tyrion's exact words to Cersei for anything. It would only make matters worse.

His knightly honor also kept him from maliciously speaking ill of someone else. Saying "not bad" was already the highest praise he could offer right now.

Jaime shrugged. "Should I arrange a meeting at once?"

Cersei snapped, a little angry. "Jaime!"

"All right, I haven't forgotten. I haven't forgotten. You reminded me: everything has to be done properly. I'll first see whether there's a suitable position for him at the Red Keep."

"This was supposed to be a simple audience. You listened to someone's slander and insisted on interfering, so now I have to go to the trouble of arranging a different kind of audience. I'm only putting up with this because of you, Jaime!"

King's Landing, Hook Harbor, Gryn's study.

It had been over a week since Gryn left Whispers. Today, Herschel's raven had delivered the first report from the Crabb Territory.

A 30-man squad from the Thorn Legion had been ambushed by a small band of Wildlings at night while carrying out a mission alone. Twenty-three men had been killed or wounded.

After setting the letter down, Gryn rubbed his temples.

Gryn hadn't been able to oversee everything, and this sort of casualty had occurred. He trusted that the seasoned Ser Pell would make timely adjustments.

It wasn't just the Thorn Legion. All the archers lacked melee weapons because the Crabb Territory didn't have the resources to equip them in time.

Gryn's preferred weapon was a short sword no longer than 50 centimeters and no wider than 5 centimeters, designed mainly for thrusting and secondarily for slashing.

This kind of short sword was light and wouldn't greatly hinder archers when shooting or marching. It was also effective in close combat and could deal with melee threats.

They were short on money.

The Crabb Territory was killing Mountain Wildlings while also absorbing them, sustaining its growth by plundering the Mountain Wildlings.

With no other source of growth, the Crabb Territory's development had reached its limit, like a fully drawn longbow. It couldn't be sustained for long.

The number of archers was growing at the same time.

For the time being, Mermaid Harbor's income was only enough to keep the port operating. Relying solely on the territory's regular income, and without affecting its other weapons and equipment, it would take at least two years to barely equip every archer with a short sword.

Surana pushed the door open, approached Gryn, and bowed. "My lord, this was just delivered by a messenger from the Red Keep. You've been appointed the Queen's Chamberlain. You are ordered to report to the Red Keep tomorrow morning and take up the post."

The Queen's Chamberlain?

For some reason, Gryn couldn't help thinking of a eunuch.

With an odd look on his face, Gryn took the appointment letter Surana handed him.

What exactly did the Queen's Chamberlain do? The letter didn't say. Gryn did notice the salary, though: 200 Gold Dragons a year.

Gryn rubbed his chin. Could he get ten years' pay in advance to tide him over?

Sorry, something came up today, so I could only write this much. The outline's coming together more smoothly now. In a few days, I should be able to write two chapters a day.