For a Knight's Mercy and Justice

The Red Keep, third floor of Maegor's Holdfast.

Jaime had been standing guard outside the door for nearly an hour.

This was a room Cersei liked to use when she had confidential matters to discuss. The wooden door was well soundproofed; you couldn't hear anything from inside.

For some reason, Jaime shifted as though he meant to press his ear against the heavy wooden door.

Jaime stopped himself in time, forcing a smile as he shook his head, as if mocking his own childish impulse.

Jaime straightened up again, gripping the hilt of his sword with his right hand and flicking his white cloak with his left.

Another hour passed before the door finally opened and Gryn stepped out.

Gryn naturally nodded to Jaime. "Ser Jaime, thank you again for showing me around today. Until next time."

Gryn politely said goodbye to Jaime.

Jaime raised an eyebrow, his lips stretching into a stiff smile. "Let me see you out."

No! Gryn wanted to refuse.

Before Gryn could answer, Jaime swung his cloak around and turned, already striding away. Gryn had no choice but to accept his escort.

The two of them walked side by side down the stairs, passed the Queen's Ballroom, and left Maegor's Holdfast.

As they descended the stairs, perceptive Gryn noticed that Jaime seemed to have something he wanted to say.

Although Gryn didn't really understand Jaime's inexplicable hostility toward him, he knew there was no need to go out of his way to engage him. Besides, he'd already spent plenty of brainpower trying to persuade Queen Cersei that day, so he pretended not to notice.

When Gryn saw Mutton Waters waiting by the entrance, he merely waved for him to follow.

Gryn didn't say a word.

Mutton, his gaze still vacant, nodded blankly, patted his belly, and followed behind Gryn.

Jaime finally slowed his pace. "Ahem!"

Jaime deliberately cleared his throat and glanced sideways at Gryn, walking beside him.

At the sound, Gryn turned his head to meet Jaime's gaze, his face appropriately puzzled.

"What are you planning to do? I'll keep it confidential."

Gryn didn't answer Jaime at once. He turned his gaze back toward the way ahead.

Gryn and Jaime kept walking. "Ser Jaime, I understand what you're worried about. The truth is, I don't like killing."

Tyrion had told Jaime as much, and he agreed with it. Although this was their first meeting, Jaime could tell that Gryn wasn't bloodthirsty. It was the judgment of an old knight.

Jaime nodded slightly.

Was it not because of the prejudice against me in the battle reports, accusing me of excessive killing?

Forget it! Gryn didn't want to keep guessing why this haughty man, Jaime, had an inexplicable hostility toward him.

"Ser Jaime, try looking at the whole matter from another angle. If my plan succeeds, who will ultimately benefit?"

Jaime's bright green eyes shifted.

"Her Highness Cersei and the common people."

"Fairly remove the evildoers around them, and at least their lives will improve."

"This is governance—a flexible, benevolent policy."

Gryn stopped. "Ser Jaime, King's Landing is unfamiliar territory to me, while you have a reputation here. If you're willing to lend a hand, my chances will be better!"

Jaime kept his expression composed, but inwardly he was unsettled. He felt as if his impression of Gryn had suddenly changed.

But... listening wasn't enough. He'd have to see what you actually did!

Jaime knew that Cersei had already approved Gryn's plan.

His smile faint, Jaime gave Gryn a kind one for the first time. "This concerns Her Highness Cersei. I'll support you."

Gryn's calm gaze carried a weight of solemnity. "For Her Highness Cersei."

Jaime found himself swept along by Gryn and repeated, "For Her Highness Cersei."

Gryn solemnly placed his right palm over his left breast. "Ser Jaime, and for a knight's mercy and justice!"

Jaime's pupils contracted, and his expression grew serious without him realizing it.

The Vale, Gulltown, Lord's Hall.

After listening to his men's report, Lord Grafton furrowed his brow. "So the only clue to the fire at Meka Manor is that song sung in the port square... What was it called..."

The attendant whispered into Lord Grafton's ear, "Whispers of the Crypt..."

"Right, Whispers of the Crypt. Crackclaw Point Half-Wildlings..."

"House Crabb..."

"Right, Crabb. They were behind it, weren't they? But can a song alone serve as proof of guilt? The great lords in the Red Keep will laugh at House Grafton."

The constable of Gulltown said, "I'm sorry, my lord. Those bandits left too quickly and cleanly. They didn't leave us any evidence."

Lord Grafton's maester spoke up. "Everyone knows what happened. Crabb's Little Baron is imitating what the Old Lion, Tywin, did back in the day!"

Lord Grafton rubbed the top of his head. "Cas... Cas..."

"The Rains of Castamere..."

"Right, The Rains of Castamere! He's taking revenge for his cousin without leaving us any evidence!"

Lord Grafton drummed his fingers on the table for a while. "Maester, what do you think we should do? Something this serious has happened in Gulltown. As its lord, I can't do nothing. There must be plenty of people waiting in the shadows to laugh at me!"

Lord Grafton's maester said, "You could have someone else contact Lord Jon. Don't forget that there's a branch of Lord Jon's family in Gulltown."

"As the lord of Gulltown, you can't directly report a noble to the Red Keep without solid proof. But they're different—they're a family. Reporting it privately to Lord Jon would be appropriate."

"Good idea!"