Gryn Wonders Why

The Free Cities, in the Magister of Pentos's mansion.

Brilliant sunlight flowed like water as a few wispy white clouds drifted slowly by on the breeze.

Daenerys Targaryen, the future Mother of Dragons, knelt in a corner of her bedroom, weakly clutching her body with her delicate arms.

After arriving in Pentos, they had received a gift from Magister Illyrio Mopatis: a pale-blue gauzy dress. It was exquisitely made, beautiful and cool to wear, and Daenerys loved it.

But her favorite dress had just been torn to pieces by her only family, her brother Viserys Targaryen. The scraps lay scattered around her.

Daenerys's thick silver hair fell in soft, unruly curls.

Her violet eyes brimmed with shimmering tears, sorrow clouding them as she grieved.

With skin as pale as milk, Daenerys was petite and breathtakingly beautiful, like an elf.

The handmaid rubbed her still-aching belly and struggled to her feet. Unable to bear the sight, she picked up a blanket and wrapped it around Daenerys.

Daenerys met the handmaid's eyes, sorrow shining in her own. "Are you all right? I'm sorry. I was scared... I didn't dare protect you, but you got hurt protecting me."

The handmaid shook her head and reassured her, "Your Highness, I'm fine. Let me help you up."

Daenerys's brother, Viserys Targaryen, was the second son of the Mad King, Aerys Targaryen II, and Queen Rhaella Targaryen. He called himself Viserys Targaryen III.

After the Usurper's War, Viserys, one of the surviving Targaryens, fled Westeros with his sister Daenerys. Calling himself the king of Westeros, he visited the Free Cities in search of allies and support while evading his pursuers. He suffered countless snubs and cold looks, and was even forced to sell their mother's crown. That was how he earned the insulting title of Beggar King.

After selling their mother's crown, Viserys grew more and more volatile.

Daenerys missed the boy who had told her stories about the Seven Kingdoms when they were children, the Viserys who had painted a picture of the wonderful life they would lead once he took the throne.

Daenerys could only dream that the brother preserved in her memories might return to her.

The day after receiving his appointment from the Queen, Gryn dressed for the occasion in gleaming silver plate armor and a blue cloak embroidered with his house sigil.

Mutton Waters, his guard, wore full plate armor and carried a large round shield, with a warhammer at his belt.

When the Red Keep's gate guards, a few Gold Cloaks, saw Gryn's appointment letter, they asked a couple of simple questions and let him pass. Gryn and Mutton entered the Red Keep without trouble.

They didn't search him, and he didn't even have to hand his weapons over to the Gold Cloaks.

Gryn privately judged King Robert's Red Keep to be a place with no sense of danger.

Mutton's eyes, not known for their intelligence, were now full of curiosity. He kept looking around.

Gryn wasn't in a hurry. He strolled in the direction the Gold Cloaks had indicated.

They hadn't gone far when a blond man in silver armor and a white cloak appeared in Gryn's view.

He was tall and handsome, with a pair of bright green eyes.

Gryn guessed that he was Jaime Lannister. When the man first appeared, Gryn had sensed a trace of killing intent, but it vanished almost at once.

Having grown up in a dangerous environment and gained a stronger body after transmigrating, Gryn had keenly picked up on the brief flash of killing intent from Jaime.

Gryn tried to guess the reason. After thinking it over, his expression turned strange.

He could think of only one answer.

Jealous? Did he think I was some pretty-faced lover of the Queen, come from far away?

Was this what they meant by a lovesick fool? I earned my place through sheer ability. There's no need for that!

Gryn considered this without letting it show. He walked over naturally, placed a hand over his chest, and bowed. "Good day, Ser White Knight?"

Jaime leaned on his long sword and looked Gryn up and down, his voice full of arrogance. "I'm Jaime of the Kingsguard. Little Wildling, are you Lord Gryn Crabb?"

Gryn's expression remained calm. "That's right, Ser Jaime."

Jaime raised an eyebrow. Tyrion's assessment had been spot on: Gryn was remarkably mature.

Most young men who had already inherited their family titles would have at least shown some displeasure in a situation like this.

Jaime wasn't fond of Gryn, but he had no interest in making things difficult for him. He said coolly, "Follow me, Little Baron."

Gryn thanked him, gave Mutton a look, and set off.

The simple-minded Mutton Waters had no idea what Gryn's look was meant to tell him, and it wasn't a good time to ask.

Mutton scratched his head and reached for the warhammer at his belt.

Was I supposed to bash in the head of that arrogant man up ahead?

Gryn noticed Mutton's little movement. He turned his head and said quietly, "Keep up."

Oh, I was overthinking it!

Mutton Waters gave a guileless reply, caught up with Gryn, and went back to looking around curiously.

Gryn naturally quickened his pace and fell into step beside Jaime. "Ser Jaime, if you don't mind my asking, what exactly does the Queen's Chamberlain do?"

Do we know each other that well?

Jaime glanced sideways at him. "Didn't you ask Tyrion?"

Was Jaime jealous of Tyrion? Was he an overprotective older brother?

Gryn had found another possible reason why Jaime had shown him killing intent earlier.

Gryn sighed. "I thought I was avoiding Tyrion, but yesterday I realized he was avoiding me too. We've reached a stalemate, and now we're both afraid of each other."

Thinking of Tyrion's haggard appearance, Jaime couldn't help laughing. "Tyrion told me yesterday that he'd never touch another drop of wine for the rest of his life."

Gryn laughed too. "On the third day after Tyrion and I met, I heard something similar from him. It only lasted half a day."

"With Tyrion's wisdom and eloquence, he can always come up with a better excuse—one you can't refuse."

Gryn's words were full of praise for Tyrion, which put Jaime in a good mood.

In Jaime's eyes, Gryn had a handsome, gentle face that was hard not to like.

Jaime had been enjoying his conversation with Gryn, but something came to mind, and his expression turned cold again.

Tch. A tsundere?

Gryn, with his "big-picture" outlook, didn't hold Jaime's prickly manner against him.

Another time.