Varys wore a dark gray robe and, as always, soft-soled shoes that made no sound as he walked. He had been standing beside a stone pillar outside the courtyard, and only when he saw Viserys dismount from Blackflame did he hurry forward and bow.
The same mild smile remained on his face, but Viserys noticed that he had brought two more attendants than usual today.
"Your Majesty, did you rest well at the royal hunting camp last night?" Varys's voice was neither loud nor soft, as soothing as a spring breeze and carrying its customary deference. Nothing about him seemed different from before.
"Well enough." Viserys handed his bow case to an attendant who came forward and brushed the dust from his shoulder. "The camp was put in good order. Those Gold Cloaks did very well," he said evenly.
"And those craftsmen-many of them must have been responsible for the camp before, weren't they? They seemed very familiar with it, and none of them looked particularly young."
Beside him, Varys paused at his words before replying calmly, "Yes, Your Majesty. When I saw that they had lost their livelihoods, I quietly took them in. This time, thinking you might wish to use the hunting camp again, I thought I would have them return to their former posts. Every one of them was delighted to do so."
"Is that so? It seems you are quite loyal to our House Targaryen, Lord Varys," Viserys said in the same even tone.
"Thank you for your recognition, Your Majesty. I have merely done my duty as your servant."
With that, Varys bowed slightly, his hands folded inside his wide sleeves. The same mild, composed expression of respect remained on his face as he stood quietly to one side, neither hurrying to withdraw nor immediately