The Dashing Officers

Maegor's Holdfast (also known as the Queen's Tower).

The journey continued in silence for another ten minutes until they finally reached their destination.

Jaime signaled to Lord Gryn with his eyes; Lord Gryn offered a nod of thanks and walked inside.

Jaime's figure had already vanished, and inside the hall, Lord Gryn discovered several small groups of people scattered about.

Lord Gryn did a rough count; there were about a dozen people.

Those who noticed Lord Gryn offered polite nods of greeting.

After observing them calmly for a while, Lord Gryn noticed that the people here shared several common traits.

They were all young and handsome, likely around twenty years old.

Judging by the sigils on their clothing, they were nobles from the Westerlands and the Crownlands, with the Westerlands nobles being the majority.

Don't tell me these people are all the Queen's administrative officers!

With looks like these, they could stir up trouble even if there were none; at the very least, on the surface, they really looked like a team of paramours.

Jaime is here every day—surely Queen Cersei isn't that desperate?

In the hall, as voices reached his ears, Lord Gryn recognized one person.

He had golden-brown hair, light green eyes, and a handsome face that resembled Jaime's by sixty or seventy percent, though it lacked Jaime's heroic air.

Kevan Lannister's eldest son, Lancel Lannister, known as the squire who poured the wine.

"Lancel, congratulations!"

"Lancel, I'm a bit jealous of you!"

"Indeed, indeed!"

"To serve as His Grace the King's squire—your future is limitless!"

"Indeed, indeed!"

"Hush, Lord Arryn's health is very poor; perhaps Lancel is the future Hand of the King."

"Indeed, indeed, only the most reliable men can serve as King Robert's squire."

Facing the flattery of the crowd, Lancel maintained a perfectly measured smile, appearing graceful and refined.

Lord Gryn rubbed his chin; at this moment, Lancel, who was about to serve as King Robert's squire, was full of high spirits, a far cry from the timid, cowering figure he would later become under King Robert's drunken scolding.

Under normal circumstances, serving as the King's squire would guarantee a smooth career path within the Red Keep.

It was a pity that King Robert could not be judged by conventional standards; he had managed to berate what everyone saw as a promising royal squire into nothing more than a wine-pourer.

Lord Gryn walked over at an opportune moment: "Good day, Ser Lancel."

Lancel looked at Lord Gryn, shaking his head slightly: "Good day, this..."

Lancel spotted the Marsh Marigold sigil on Lord Gryn's person and realized: "Lord Gryn of House Crabb?"

Lord Gryn nodded: "It is a pleasure to meet you. I couldn't help but overhear your conversation, and I couldn't resist coming over to offer my congratulations."

Thump. Lord Gryn's heart skipped a beat.

Following Lord Gryn's congratulations, a blush actually crept onto Lancel's cheeks: "Thank you. I heard you had arrived in King's Landing, and I had been meaning to pay you a visit."

"I have read the raven scrolls from the Citadel several times; the battles you commanded were truly brilliant."

"I have always dreamed of leading troops in war myself, though unfortunately, my family excels at governance."

"When I was a child, I hid from my father..."

Lord Gryn set his mind at ease; this was just a little fanboy, and the earlier moment had been a misunderstanding.

Lancel shed his previously introverted demeanor, speaking at length to the crowd about the details of the campaigns Lord Gryn had commanded.

Hum!

Those around them, whether they understood the inner workings or not, let out continuous exclamations as Lancel spoke.

Their awe was not directed at Lord Gryn.

At this moment, no matter what Lancel said, the crowd would give him face and cheer him on.

Hiss. Lord Gryn felt ashamed to be associated with such sycophants who followed the tide, and he quietly slipped away from the crowd.

Just as Lord Gryn was beginning to feel bored, he finally heard the loud announcement: "The Queen approaches."

Lord Gryn followed the movement of the crowd and took his place.

Everyone's gaze quickly converged on the staircase.

Queen Cersei's figure appeared on the stairs, descending at a slow, measured pace.

Queen Cersei wore an off-the-shoulder gown, her curled golden hair falling naturally against her collarbone.

Subtle golden embroidery and brilliant gemstone ornaments—the height of opulence.

As the beautiful figure of Queen Cersei appeared, Gryn felt the gazes directed toward her by those around him filled with reverence, and perhaps even adoration?

Those who could stand here were certainly no simple folk!

Gazing at her with such affection? Gryn shook his head.

Compared to his own consistent persona, the difference was simply too vast; Gryn could not bring himself to express such emotions.

After descending the stairs, Cersei came to a halt.

Jaime stood faithfully behind Cersei, acting in the role of her protector.

"Good day, my administrators."

The crowd bowed with hands over their chests: "Good day, Your Grace!"

Cersei gave a slight nod of her elegant chin, her eyes shifting as she spoke in a cold, clear voice: "Lord Gryn."

As Queen Cersei's words fell, Gryn stepped out from the crowd and bowed again, hand over his chest: "Good day. It is an honor to meet you for the first time, noble Queen! I thank you for elevating this humble servant to the position of administrator!"

Gryn added a touch of excitement to his typically steady tone; everything was just right.

Cersei scrutinized Gryn once more, a look of satisfaction flashing through her emerald-green eyes, and she extended the back of her hand toward him.

Gryn moved forward a few steps and gently took hold of Queen Cersei's fair, slender hand.

Gryn bowed and pressed his lips symbolically against the pristine skin of her hand.

Cersei lifted her chin slightly, a smile curling at the corners of her lips.