Small Council Chamber

Tears streamed down Jefferies' face as he choked out, "Thank you... thank you so much... I shall be forever grateful for your kindness..."

Five-year-old Darius saw only his father's tears; his small mouth puckered, ready to wail, but the thin, dark-skinned middle-aged man beside him immediately hushed him in a low voice.

The thin man was worried that Darius would leave Lord Gryn with a poor impression of cowardice.

Gryn glanced sideways at Martier and said, "Martier, be sharp. Come over and look after your younger brother."

Gryn's voice finally pulled Martier out of his deep, troubled thoughts.

His father had taken in an adopted son, and the events of today would reach his father's ears sooner or later; his own pathetic performance would be impossible to hide.

Martier's worry was that his perpetually stern father would use this as an excuse to force him to produce another son. He was truly terrified of being locked away; the experience had left him with deep psychological scars!

However, a second thought crossed Martier's mind: he was now Lord Gryn's squire. Even his father couldn't control him anymore—hehe!

Gryn watched the rich variety of expressions on Martier's face, unsure of how to evaluate this new squire.

Though Gryn remained expressionless, he inwardly wanted to roll his eyes in disdain.

Seeing that Jefferies' emotions were beginning to stabilize, Gryn spoke, "Your house, the plates or curtains within it, and every Gold Dragon you have saved—I will arrange for them to be kept safe. When your child grows a bit older... let's say 15."

"At that age, he will be considered grown. I will hand these things over to your son, Darius, one by one."

Is he being too generous? Jefferies felt a storm raging in his heart; he opened his mouth, unable to find the words.

In over twenty years of business, Jefferies had long understood one truth: when listening to someone speak, what matters is not what they say, but what they leave unsaid.

Jefferies' mind suddenly cleared, and he thought of his merchant firm.

Thinking of this, Jefferies felt a sense of relief. Before, he had only heard Lord Gryn's generosity—a generosity so great it had terrified him.

Jefferies spoke weakly, "Russell..."

Hearing this, the thin, dark-skinned man who had been holding Darius's small hand walked to the carriage door and bowed to Jefferies.

Jefferies mustered his remaining strength to address Gryn, "My Lord, Russell is the manager I rely on most. He has been responsible for most of the affairs of my firm... cough, cough..."

After a few coughs, Jefferies took a deep breath, enduring his physical discomfort, and continued, "I have no way to repay your kindness. I beg you to protect the firm I offer to you."

Gryn's brown eyes shifted to the chubby little boy who was clutching Martier's thigh tightly with his small arms and hands, and he sighed softly.

Jefferies also noticed his young son's closeness to Martier, and a flash of relief crossed his eyes.

"Russell, this is my final request. From now on, you have only one master: Lord Gryn."

Having said this, Jefferies seemed to have exhausted all his strength; he slowly closed his eyes, his breathing growing faint.

The thin, dark-skinned Russell couldn't help but cry out, "Master!"

Jefferies, leaning against the seat, opened his eyes a mere slit and gave a weak shake of his head.

Russell first wiped the tears from the corners of his eyes with the back of his hand, then roughly straightened his clothes.

Russell stepped before Gryn, stood still, and bowed, "My master, your loyal servant Russell is at your service."

Gryn gave a slight nod.

Hook Alley, Gryn's study.

The matter of Jefferies was only a temporary conclusion, and many other tasks remained piled up. Gryn handed the four Crabb Clan Soldiers over to Russell, tasking him with handling the aftermath of Jefferies' affairs.

After arriving at the study, Gryn first wrote an order to mobilize 20 soldiers from the Survey Corps, sending a servant to the Red Keep to give it to his "acquaintance" Jaime, asking him to help send the ravens.

Once the servant left the study with the envelope, Gryn received Furi and Leyton, who had hurried over from the Queens Quarter.

Gryn had not forgotten that the day after tomorrow, Queen Cersei's Kingswood hunting party would pass through the Queens Quarter.

Gryn, the overachiever, would ensure every post was manned.

Leyton spoke first, "My master, as you ordered, the Security Office has added 200 temporary guards. About 1,000 citizens will gather along the road in the Queens Quarter where Her Grace the Queen will pass."

"They are all relatives of our guards and temporary guards. Aside from the guards maintaining order in uniform, the temporary guards scattered among the crowd will be dressed in plain clothes, maintaining order from the shadows."

Gryn nodded, his gaze shifting toward Furi.

Furi's voice was very rough, "Lord Gryn, per your orders, starting tomorrow afternoon, our men and the Lannister Red Cloaks will seal off the area the Queen will pass through. Aside from the citizens Leyton arranged, no one else will appear in that area."

Gryn gave an "en" and said to Leyton, "Leyton, for the original residents of that area, do not be stingy with the compensation. I want the result to be that they look forward to the next time because of the compensation. This will be beneficial for our future governance. You know that place well; manage the amount of compensation carefully."

Leyton bowed his head, "Yes, my master. Excessive generosity can breed greed, which is not your intention. I will certainly master the scale of the compensation."

Gryn's gaze shifted back to Furi, "Once Queen Cersei passes through the Iron Gate, lift the blockade. You are responsible for gathering the clan soldiers and the Lannister Red Cloaks, and have them follow the hunting party from behind."

Furi wanted to say something, but eventually closed his mouth and simply bowed in obedience.

A hint of a smile appeared in Gryn's eyes as he looked at Furi, "Furi, have you not gotten used to the duties of a security officer yet?"

Furi chuckled and rubbed his hands together, "Lord Gryn, it was fine at the beginning. There were fights every day, but it's been a while since any conflicts occurred. Only Leyton has been busy, and I'm not sure what I should be doing. Did we hit them too hard? They don't even have the guts to come out anymore?"

Little steward Leyton was indeed Surana's eldest son and had great potential; Gryn found him increasingly useful.

Gryn thought again of Kalaia, far away in Whispers. He wondered how she was doing with her studies under Maester Al.

As his influence grew step by step, Gryn felt more and more keenly how thin his pool of talent was.

Gryn stopped his train of thought, "During the time I am away from King's Landing, you are responsible for teaching the guards swordsmanship in your spare time. You will arrange the specific training. If you teach well, when I return, I will arrange for someone to take over your duties, and you will remain my Captain of the Guard."

Boredom was just an excuse for Furi. Seeing the gradual stabilization of the Queens Quarter, he simply wanted to return to his role as Gryn's Captain of the Guard.

Though Furi was a warrior obsessed with combat, he had his own small schemes. Unless there were special circumstances, he could not stay away from his lord for too long—it was a matter of his future.