Peace of Mind and Stability

Candlelight flickered as Gryn braced both hands steadily against the edge of the polished table, his gaze slowly moving across the unfolded map.

For a moment, time seemed to freeze. He slowly raised his head and looked at Lord Mace, the Hand of the King, standing opposite him.

The corner of his mouth curled up. "You want to attack Winterfell?"

Lord Mace paused abruptly in the middle of stroking his beard, a nearly imperceptible trace of embarrassment flashing across his face.

He gave a low cough to conceal his discomfort before speaking. "Gryn... Your Highness, I am mainly... well... worried that the Starks may bear resentment and turn hostile toward us. After all, everyone in the Seven Kingdoms knows that the Lord of Winterfell and that usurper Robert were as close as brothers."

Gryn gave a slight nod, his expression unchanged as he said evenly, "That is a reasonable concern."

His gaze shifted toward the man standing to one side. "Count Mathis, I would like to hear your advice."

His liege lord secretly signaled to him, but Count Mathis pretended not to notice. After giving the matter serious thought, he slowly spoke. "Lord Regent Gryn, after the Greyjoy invasion and their defeat in the Riverlands, the North is now extremely weak. They can no longer affect the situation in the Seven Kingdoms. At least for the next ten years, they will lack the strength to extend their reach southward."

Under Lord Mace's watchful gaze, Mathis spoke steadily, each word seeming carefully considered.

Gryn nodded again, then slightly raised his brows. "So your conclusion is that there is no need to send troops against Winterfell?"

From the corner of his eye, Mathis caught sight of his liege lord, Hand of the King Mace, flushing red. He looked remarkably like the nickname