Three weeks later, rumors began to spread across Westeros.
In the Blackwater Rush tavern in King's Landing.
A ragged wandering singer sat in a corner of the tavern, playing his lute and singing a newly composed tune.
"Golden lion, golden mane, learning to walk at Uncle's side. Father stag looked down and cried, why doesn't this cub look like me? Like me?"
The drinkers roared with laughter.
Someone who caught the meaning tossed him a copper. "Sing us another! Give those high-and-mighty lords a good roasting."
The singer grinned and struck up another tune. He failed to notice a hooded man in the corner who listened in silence, dropped two coppers, then rose and left.
The man was an informant House Lannister had planted in King's Landing. He hurried back to a rendezvous point near the city to make his report.
Several secret dispatches were then rushed to Casterly Rock by mounted couriers.
In Oldtown, at an inn near the Citadel.
Several sailors drank ale and talked loudly.
"Tell me, how come each of the king's three children looks more like a Lannister than the last?"
"Shh, keep your voice down. Do you want to get yourself killed?"
"What is there to be afraid of? This isn't King's Landing. Besides, am I not telling the truth? Just look at Prince Joffrey's hair and eyes. He's the spitting image of Queen Cersei and Ser Jaime. Then look at the king-black hair, blue eyes. Where's the resemblance?"
"Maybe it skipped a generation."
"Skipped a generation? I'd believe that about the Targaryens' silver hair and purple eyes, but Baratheons and Lannisters? Who are you trying to fool?"
A maester at the next table overheard their conversation. He hurriedly settled his bill and left.
In a dockside tavern in Gulltown.
A drunken merchant slapped