[86] So Many Kingly Duties

Chapter 86: So Many Kingly Duties

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The following events proved relentlessly busy.

I began by sending Mace Tyrell to Braavos with a small delegation to renegotiate terms with the Iron Bank. The Crown's debt had ballooned under Robert Baratheon's reign, and the Lannisters had only made it worse with their war expenses. The Iron Bank was notorious for collecting its dues—they'd fund your enemies if you failed to pay.

This was the thing with politics. Raw strength couldn’t always win over things. I mean, I could definitely go there and burn down the entirety of Braavos, but then there was the chance I’d get assassinated by a hundred faceless men. Even Viserion was in danger.

I’d say the Faceless Men were one of the most dangerous powers that could go against me, on par with the immortal Empire of Yi Ti.

So, Mace would go to the Iron Bank and ask for more time. By then, I’d beat down the Lannisters, take their wealth, and repay the debt using Lannister money. Cersei would play a fine role, then. One of the reasons I kept her alive.

I chose Mace for this task partly because the Tyrells had deep pockets, and his presence would signal to the bankers that the throne now had wealthy allies. But more importantly, it kept him away from court while I solidified my reign. While Mace wasn’t anywhere near his mother, he was still an annoying person.

He was meek, but he was strong-headed. He awkwardly kept asking for stuff until the end.

With that done, I focused on other important tasks.

Later, I met with Bronn, the current Commander of the City Watch. The former sellsword had survived the Battle of Blackwater, and I chose not to kill him like the other soldiers. He still carried himself with that dangerous swagger, though he'd dressed up a bit for the occasion. His black armor gleamed, and he'd even bothered to trim his beard.

I'd half expected to replace him immediately—he was not loyal to Tyrion, but they were still friends, after all. But our meeting changed my mind. He loved money, and as long as he received money and luxury, he’d remain loyal. Men like these were more trustworthy than those who pretended to be noble.

Unlike the nobles who spoke in flowery riddles, Bronn was refreshingly direct about the state of the city. The City Watch was undermanned and corrupt, but he had plans to fix both issues if given the resources.

"Your Grace, half these gold cloaks can't tell their arse from their elbow," he'd told me bluntly. "But give me a month and your gold, and I'll have them shaped up or shipped out."

I liked that he didn't hide behind false promises. He knew exactly what I needed—a city that ran smoothly and stayed loyal. After surviving as a sellsword for so long, Bronn understood that loyalty was bought, not given freely. He also knew to respect me, even though he was a sellsword, and that he’d initially met me as a fellow sellsword. But he knew when to adapt. Perfect for managing a city filled with spies and cutthroats.

The rest of the week blurred together.

I met with Robb and told him to send a letter to Jon Snow in the Night Watch asking about what was going on there. I told him about strengthening defenses along the Wall, but he didn’t see any reason to. So I decided to only continue on that topic when Jon would send back a reply. I’d break down the news to Robb about the White Walkers.

Otherwise, it’d be suspicious why I knew all this, and also, my words wouldn’t be that trustworthy.

That meeting followed with me wondering about dragonglass from Dragonstone. I was unsure if I should start their shipment already, but I decided against it. I should pay Dragonstone a visit after returning from Meereen.

I spent the next few days reviewing candidates for the Kingsguard. I found a few good ones to fill the slots, but none for the Lord Commander role. It annoyed me that living legend Ser Barristan Selmy had gone to my sister…

Now, where do I find a proper Lord Commander?

Having no answers, I moved to the last important task. I made sure to prepare rooms for Yara Greyjoy's upcoming visit, ensuring they were befitting of an ally—but not too lavish. The Ironborn preferred practicality over luxury.

Although I decided to halt that meeting in the end, till I’d return to King’s Landing. I’d delayed enough time. All these kingly duties took a lot of work.

A few weeks after my marriage, it was a late afternoon. I was pacing the corridors of the Red Keep with Ros walking beside me, her voice low as she delivered reports from her growing network of informants.

"The Lannister forces have retreated to Casterly Rock, Your Grace. Lord Tywin hasn't been seen in weeks—they’re using the excuse that he’s ill. But I think he’s just hiding. " She paused, checking a small parchment. "And Littlefinger has been spotted in the Vale. He's apparently courting Lysa Arryn quite... aggressively."

“They’re fucking. Send a letter to Lysa. Tell her Littlefinger is a criminal who fled from his role as the Master of Coin and that she’s obliged to return him to the crown. She won’t listen, and that’ll give me an excuse to fly to her castle.” I said, making her nod.

I barely listened to the rest of her report as we passed through a corridor lined with tall windows. Sunlight streamed in, catching the dust motes that danced in the air. I stopped abruptly, drawn to the view below.

King's Landing lay before me, transformed from the city I had approached months ago. Targaryen banners now decorated every prominent building. Workers rushed about, repairing the damage from the battle. Near the harbor, ships were unloading supplies—grain from the Reach and timber from the North.

"This place is changing," I murmured, more to myself than to Ros.

She stepped beside me, following my gaze across the city. "For the better, I'd say. The smallfolk aren't starving anymore. Even the smell has improved. Though I doubt the city will ever smell like a garden."

“The smell,” I chuckled. "A true miracle, that one. I need that smell completely replaced with flowers and perfumes soon. Even if you doubt it’ll smell like a garden, we need to make that happen.”

“Really, Your Grace?”

“Yes, sweetheart.” I looked at her. The once-whore girl was an elegant lady now, wearing a noble gown. I pulled her closer, and she gave in, without resisting. “I have grand plans for this realm.”

“I’m glad,” she said, smiling warmly. She didn’t try to act too professional with me anymore. I liked that development. “I’ll make your plans come to fruition.”

“I know you will. I dream of a city with better living conditions than this, Ros. I’ll make sure that the commoners live like kings in the future… Although by then I’ll live like god. That includes you," I said. “You’ll be my brush used to paint this city anew.”

"My existence will be fulfilled by that," Ros replied, her voice full of love. "Honestly, it doesn’t have to go that far. The people don’t want to live like kings. They just need to feel safe. And fed. You’re already succeeding in those regards thanks to the Tyrells."

"Really? That’s good,” I said, a little curious. "Do you think they’re happy? Margaery goes out to meet the commoners and hangs out with them, and she says they’re happy. She’s making them accept a Targaryen on the throne again. I think the commoners like her more than Sansa. At this rate, I might, too. Poor Sansa has yet to figure out how to play this game. Why don’t you show her the way? You have known her for a long time. She was telling me how you treated her as your younger sister for a long time.”

Ros considered this, tilting her head. "That I did. But I… I’m unsure if she’ll be fine with me trying to help her. She might think I’m trying to manipulate her…”

“It’s alright.”

“Well, if you say so. You’re right that the commoners like the Tyrell girl more. They accept whoever feeds them and doesn't beat them. So I’ll help Sansa, I guess, to help balance things,” she said. “Expect a different Sansa by the time you return.”

She was still in my arms, and I gently pushed her against the wall. I leaned forward, capturing her lips, and she gave in, moaning for me. Ros really knew how to make a man’s body hotter with minimal effort. As her hands roamed my body, feeling my muscles, I wanted to fuck her senseless right here.

“But there's something else." She hesitated once I pulled back from the kiss. "The people whisper about you. The Dragon King who appeared from nowhere with golden wings and breathed life back into the city. Children play games pretending to be dragons now. It’d be too much to give Margaery credit for that, though. It’s all you. You saved them from Stannis’ assault, after all.”

That pleased me more than I expected. "That was the plan. To make them feel grateful. I’m glad it’s working. That’s why I killed so many soldiers during the riot when people were throwing stones at Joffrey, while saving civilians. Myths and stories can be powerful tools."

"More powerful than armies sometimes," she agreed as she leaned forward and kissed my nape. "Though speaking of armies, the Dornish—"

A guard rushed toward us, his armor clanking as he skidded to a stop and bowed deeply. I didn’t separate from Ros, hand inside her gown, feeling her chest. The guard was an older man, so he knew to keep his head low as he reported. "Your Grace... Brienne of Tarth has reached King’s Landing. She brings news."

Ros’ head snapped toward him. "Brienne? The lady knight from the Stormlands? Your Grace, I heard that she was tasked with bringing Jamie Lannister to King’s Landing a couple of months ago… by Lady Catelyn. She finally returned."

Since they were taking a detour, traveling half the continent on foot, it took months.

"Yes, Your Grace. She..." The guard shifted uncomfortably.

Brienne of Tarth. The warrior woman who had once sworn herself to Renly Baratheon, then to Catelyn Stark. In the story I knew, echoed by this reality, she'd been tasked with returning Jaime Lannister to King's Landing in exchange for the Stark girls.

But that was a different timeline, a different story. Sansa was already here, married to me. And Arya... well, she was still missing. Had Brienne succeeded this time in her task or failed like canon?

"Did she bring someone with her?" I asked, unable to keep the edge from my voice. "A prisoner, perhaps?"

****

"No, Your Grace. Lannister spies... found us when we were very close to King's Landing." The massive woman kept her head down, one knee pressed to the stone floor before my Iron Throne. "I tried my best to fight them, but Jaime Lannister's restraints broke during the struggle, and he received a sword from an ally. I… couldn't beat the greatest swordsman in the Seven Kingdoms, even with his months of imprisonment."

She apologized for her incompetence.

I leaned forward slightly, the uncomfortable edges of the throne moving away from my back. The throne room was relatively empty today. The cavernous space, with its towering columns and high vaulted ceiling, felt almost hollow.

Morning light streamed through the tall windows, casting long shadows across the stone floor. Targaryen banners hung from the walls, a sea of black and red that had replaced the Baratheon gold.

Only a handful of courtiers lingered at the edges of the room, along with a few guards. I noticed Robb Stark standing to one side, his face grim as he watched the proceedings. Lady Catelyn stood beside him, her eyes fixed on Brienne with a worried expression. Naturally, she was worried about the fate of the Knight who’d been escorting Jamie Lannister to King’s Landing—which was at the hands of Lannisters during the oath.

If I ordered execution now, Catelyn could only blame herself and nobody else.

However, I didn’t bring up any of that. She’d only done as she was forced to oath, so it wasn’t her fault. "I understand he defeated you. So why did he let you return alive?" I asked, studying Brienne's face carefully.

She was not a woman made for deception—her eyes were too honest, her face too open. "...I don't know, Your Grace." Her voice held genuine confusion.

Okay, there are two things that could have happened here. First, that she was lying and had actually let Jaime escape because she'd fallen in love with him during their journey. Like the original. Or that she knew the oath meant she had to safely send Jamie to his family, and not King’s Landing, so she let him go without a fight.

Or perhaps the second option was true: the situation was indeed as she’d said, and Jaime had let her live because he had fallen for her. Either way, Jamie Lannister was gone.

The greatest swordsman of this generation was back to Tywin, and this time, he kept both hands. That wasn’t good.

I glanced toward Catelyn Stark. Her lips were pressed into a tight line. This woman had released Jaime Lannister against her son's wishes, gambling everything on retrieving her daughters. Now one daughter was my wife, and the other still missing—while the Kingslayer ran free. I wonder how she felt. That dumb bitch.

"I understand," I replied finally, turning back to Brienne. "Whatever the case, it means Lannister men are still lurking in or around King's Landing." I turned to Ros, who stood to the side of the throne in her formal attire. "What do you have to say about this, Ros?"

Ros’ deep blue dress rustled against the stone floor as she lowered her head. "My deepest apologies, Your Grace... My network should have detected their movements. I'll increase searches immediately and tighten security around the city gates."

Her face showed genuine concern—she knew that failing to catch the Lannister spies could reflect poorly on her new position.

"See that you do." I kept my tone mild but firm. "I expect a full report by tomorrow as I have to leave very soon."

I turned my attention back to Brienne of Tarth. The woman was a strange sight in the Red Keep—taller than most men, broader than more, with straw-colored hair cut short around a face that was rather handsome than pretty. Her breasts are huge here, though. But there was something compelling about her presence.

She wore battered armor that had seen better days, and a sword hung at her hip. Despite her failure, she'd traveled all this way to face potential punishment rather than flee.

That spoke to her character—to her honor.

Brienne of Tarth was an honorable Knight.

"...Welcome to King's Landing, Lady Brienne," I said finally. "Such a strong, great warrior as you—it's a pity you were put against Jaime Lannister of all people. I’m grateful to the deity above that he let you return alive."

I paused, considering the opportunity before me one more time. Brienne was indeed someone whose honor was unquestionable. In that case… it should be fine, right?

"I don't wish to waste your rest time further, but I have a proposition." I straightened on the throne, looking at her like how a King should. "What do you think about the position of Lord Commander of the Kingsguard?"

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