We could end the discussion of Lord Stannis here.
Gryn had already achieved his initial goal. The rest depended on Petyr's plans.
This was no deeply cunning political scheme. The exposure of the hidden compartment in the Hand's Study had created the perfect opportunity; all the schemer had to do was keep their identity concealed.
There was no need to remind the shrewd Petyr to stay hidden in the shadows. Gryn, meanwhile, would stay hidden behind Petyr.
For now, both sides would choose to keep each other's secrets. It was an unspoken political understanding between schemers.
Despite the word "hunt" in its name, the Kingswood Hunt was essentially a royal excursion organized by the Queen for the noblewomen of the Crownlands.
Royal events were matters of state, so all the Gold Dragons needed for the Kingswood Hunt naturally had to be approved and disbursed by Petyr, the Master of Coin.
Gryn looked over the documents Petyr had handed him and compared them with the stewards' lists. His brow furrowed almost imperceptibly.
Hiss. Twenty thousand Gold Dragons!
Hiss. The nobles of the Crownlands really knew how to enjoy themselves!
The Queen's stewards had already spent three full months preparing for the Kingswood Hunt, and all the necessary supplies had long since been purchased.
No wonder they hadn't shown any displeasure when Gryn suddenly took over the Kingswood Hunt. When he'd run into them in the hall at Maegor's Holdfast, they'd been unusually friendly.
The stewards had already divided up all the profits. All that remained was the grueling work of managing the party, so they'd been eager for someone to take over and let them enjoy an easy ride.
Gryn was jealous. His colleagues had gotten to leave the table as soon as they'd eaten their fill—and they didn't even have to do the dishes!
The noble Queen Cersei would never know about these matters, nor would she care.
It was a sign of Boss Cersei's trust. Gryn could only do his best in service to the Crown.
Gryn wasn't one to dwell on opportunities he'd already missed.
Petyr spoke up. "I was actually surprised to hear you'd taken over the Kingswood Hunt at this point. The most important supplies had already been purchased. All that remains is the hard work of guarding the party and the like. There's little chance to distinguish yourself, or make Her Grace value you more."
Gryn shrugged. "It's my duty."
Petyr spread his hands, his gaze sincere. "Lord Gryn, I told you we're friends now. I'd be more than happy to help a friend however I can."
Gryn's excellent memory told him that Petyr had just repeated almost word for word the final sentence he'd said when Gryn had "visited" him late at night.
Petyr continued, "Although I'm the Master of Coin, to avoid causing unnecessary trouble, I can only add another ten thousand Gold Dragons for you, my friend."
Gryn understood what Petyr meant. The extra ten thousand Gold Dragons were Petyr's gesture of reconciliation.
Adding funds to the Kingswood Hunt was part of the Master of Coin's duties, and there was no way to keep such news secret.
But as the person in charge of the Kingswood Hunt, Gryn only had to make a few small adjustments. He could make this year's event even more splendid than usual for Queen Cersei—and pocket quite a bit for himself.
Gryn made a quick estimate. If he put in some effort, he might be able to keep half.
At that moment, Gryn was no longer jealous of his colleagues.
Gryn bowed with a hand over his chest, his tone warm. "Crabb will remember Lord Petyr's kindness."
Outside the Small Council Chamber, the Red Keep.
Gryn said goodbye to Petyr. As soon as he stepped out of the Small Council Chamber, he spotted Jaime Lannister, his face dark.
After breaking his oath and earning the name Kingslayer, Jaime's convictions had crumbled. He looked normal on the surface, but seemed somewhat resigned to his fate. In his heart, there was room only for Queen Cersei.
His family and power meant nothing to Jaime Lannister. Cersei had become his sole conviction.
Gryn didn't care to judge Jaime Lannister. Based on his usual impression of him, Gryn had provisionally classed him as a disillusioned man with an unstable temperament.
Gryn acted as if he hadn't noticed Jaime's sour expression and greeted him first. "Ser Jaime, did Her Grace want to see me?"
Jaime handed him a golden pouch embroidered with the Crowned Stag. "Little Wildling, this is a reward from His Highness Prince Joffrey."
Jaime was acting strangely. Why had he gone back to calling Gryn Little Wildling?
Gryn took the pouch, discreetly gauged its weight, then handed it to Anguy, who stood faithfully behind him. "Please thank His Highness Prince Joffrey on my behalf."
Jaime shot Gryn a sidelong glance. His tone sounded downright obnoxious to Gryn.
"Come on. Princess Myrcella wants to see you."
Princess Myrcella?
Gryn followed Jaime, who had already started walking, and asked with a puzzled look, "Ser Jaime, may I know why Princess Myrcella wants to see me?"
Jaime shot Gryn another sidelong glance. "She heard about the mermaid story."
The mermaid story?
Gryn hadn't forgotten that he'd asked Steward Herschel to arrange for people to spread the mermaid legend while they were at Whispers, hoping to make Mermaid Harbor more appealing.
Had the mermaid legend already made its way to the Red Keep? Had it gone mainstream?
Steward Herschel had done a good job. Gryn even found himself missing him a little!
At the same time, sharp-minded Gryn finally figured out why Jaime kept showing him hostility for no apparent reason.
Myrcella was only eight or nine, wasn't she?
As far as Gryn was concerned, Myrcella was just a child. What could he possibly have in mind for her?
Gryn racked his brains and confirmed that he hadn't done anything in front of or behind Princess Myrcella that could have been misunderstood.
Gryn felt a little annoyed. Was Jaime only targeting him, or everyone?
Gryn kept his expression neutral. "So Princess Myrcella heard about the mermaid story?"
Jaime nodded stiffly, brushing him off.
"The story of the mermaid comes from Crabb's Mermaid Harbor..."
Gryn could be rather vindictive. After a pause, he deliberately asked, "Ser Jaime, Princess Myrcella is a princess, after all, and I'm meeting her alone. Should I bring her a bouquet of flowers?"
Jaime's face turned livid the moment he heard that. Gryn laughed to himself.
Jaime tightened his big hand around the hilt of his sword. "Princess Myrcella is still young. She wouldn't accept flowers from a strange man."
Gryn nodded in agreement. "That's right. Princess Myrcella has a noble status. Though she's still young, we have to take precautions."
At Gryn's words, Jaime's lips finally curved into a faint smile.
Gryn added, "I'm different. I'm one of you."
Jaime stopped walking.
When Gryn noticed, he glanced around, puzzled. "Ser Jaime, why did you stop?"
Jaime was inwardly annoyed, but there was nothing he could do. Thinking it over, Gryn was truly innocent and completely unaware of the situation.
It was all Tyrion's fault for giving him bad advice. Jaime's love for his little brother Tyrion diminished a little.
Jaime started walking again. "You don't need to bring flowers, either."
Jaime realized he'd sounded a little unkind. He cleared his throat and added, "Little Baron, Princess Myrcella doesn't like people giving her presents."
Gryn spread his hands. "I'll follow your lead, Ser Jaime."
Sorry, I'm really too busy today, so there's only one update. I'll be back to two tomorrow!
Many thanks for all your votes and support!
Happy holidays, everyone! Have a joyful holiday!
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