Baelor Hightower found the High Septon of the Seven, who had fled King's Landing, in a brothel in Oldtown's dock district.
When his attendant pushed open the carved wooden door to the innermost room on the second floor, the sight made the corner of Baelor's mouth twitch.
The High Septon, dressed in sumptuous robes and a tall crown, was frantically straightening his disheveled clothing. Another figure could just be seen curled beneath the blankets on the bed.
The room reeked of wine, cheap perfume, and sweat.
Baelor stood in the doorway, watching expressionlessly as the potbellied High Septon fastened his belt, pulled on his robes, and straightened his crown.
The High Septon's oily face was filled with the embarrassment of being caught in the act.
"S-Ser Baelor..." The High Septon gave a dry cough. "Since Earl Leyton wishes to see me, please lead the way."
Baelor did not bother speaking. He stepped aside and gestured for him to leave.
Neither spoke along the way.
The two passed through Oldtown's winding streets and ascended the Hightower.
In the study at the top of the tower, Leyton Hightower stood before an enormous map of the Reach, his back to the door.
Hearing footsteps, he slowly turned.
His deep-set eyes calmly surveyed the High Septon.
"You have come a long way, Your High Holiness. Oldtown is rather remote; forgive me for not coming out to welcome you."
The High Septon was about to offer a polite reply when Leyton changed the subject, his tone even. "You have spared no effort in personally visiting Oldtown's streets and alleys to understand the people's plight. Thank you for your tireless efforts."
"But Oldtown's streets are a maze, not nearly as orderly as King's Landing's. You should take a few more guards with you when you go