Bread

Once loyal servants of Dragon House, forced to endure humiliation under the Baratheon Dynasty, they all raised their cups. "To the Targaryens."

The crowd exchanged glances, their eyes mingling relief and emotion, as if all silently lamenting the hardship of setting things right.

Only Princess Arianne watched the performance of these Red Keep ministers with inward disdain, secretly rolling her eyes.

In her eyes, they were nothing more than Baratheon's lapdogs. Yet now they had transformed themselves and hypocritically begun playing the part of "Dragon loyalists." It was utterly shameless.

Footsteps sounded as Gryn came to her side. Raising his cup, he smiled. "You've worked hard. You've been doing well lately."

Arianne immediately put on a captivating smile, like a gorgeous flower in full bloom. A trace of pride flickered across her lips. "I'll do even better."

"Of course. I've never doubted that."

Gryn gently swirled the wine in his cup, the liquid gleaming enchantingly beneath the candlelight.

His gaze slowly swept over the people conversing in low voices before he suddenly asked, "Not used to it?"

Meeting his eyes, Arianne parted her red lips. In her view... those people simply did not deserve to stand here. Their loyalty was so cheap and false.

Still, she suppressed the urge to mock them and merely shrugged. "I'll get used to it soon enough."

Gryn's eyes seemed to have seen through her thoughts. "The sharper the sword in our hands, the more we ought to show mercy. Winning the hearts of the people is also our responsibility."

He looked at her. "Arianne Nymeros Martell, to forge an iron kingdom..."

He lightly raised his cup and smiled at her, his voice gentle yet filled with strength. "...that is our true responsibility."

Arianne's beautiful eyes widened slightly. Including this time, she had lost count