10th Moon 136AD
Father had said that the new home of House Tully, the Palace of the Trident was going to be a beacon of the sort of kingdom that he wanted to build-No, the sort of kingdom that he was building and will continue to be building that would then be taken up by him when he decides to 'retire'. What Father meant by that (hopefully not death) still eluded him some, but he supposed at some point, Father meant to leave him in charge of much of the running of the kingdom, a junior king or something of the likes.
That was something that had never been heard of before in Westeros, but Alfred had long come to knowing that his Father had a habit of doing things that have never been heard of, in Westeros and the lands to the east.
Still though, the prince would very much agree that the Palace was something to behold. When Father had said that he wanted the palace to be beacon of the power, wealth and beauty of the Trident, he had meant it. It was said that Highgarden was the most beautiful castle in all of Westeros. Alfred had never seen Highgarden before, but now he would think that it paled in comparison to this palace in beauty that Father had beauty.
Riverrun was always going to be considered the ancestral home of House Tully, but it was from here, that the Tullys would rule over the Trident for the future generations to come. Perhaps they would split their time between the two? Perhaps the kings could rule in the palace and raise their children in Riverrun. It wouldn't really be all that difficult, all they would have to do to travel to Riverrun from here would be take a boat up the red fork. It would be a quick journey but something that Alfred would admit that he wouldn't want to do repeatedly.
Perhaps Riverrun shall become a winter home? he mused to himself. Father already had ideas of building a summer home for the family somewhere in their southern lands. I swear, Father is always building something. One of these days, poor Olyvar is going to have a heart attack from all the coin that leaves the royal coffers...then again, Father's little building projects do tend to pay for themselves over the years, though I doubt this particular one will.
The Palace of the Trident had been built using white stone and marble quarried from the Vale and much to father's usual aesthetic, the great palace had been built in the shape of a trident. At first, he had thought father had been playing with him, until he saw the plans of the palace laying about in his offices and saw that in truth, his father was very much serious in building the palace in the shape of a trident.
"It's for the image we are trying to sell, son." Father had said, somewhat chuffed with himself.
He had been incredulous as he looked over the drawings. "What image? I mean, what is even the point of building it so? It's not as if it would matter. The only people who would be able to notice that it is in the shape of a trident would be the Targaryens upon the backs of their dragons!" For some reason, he felt as if he had been rehashing the words that mother had said to father when she obviously found out about what he was doing.
"So?" Father asked, nonplussed about the ridiculousness of the notion. "It doesn't matter really. I mean, give it enough time and it won't just be the Targaryens going around flying."
"Oh, are you now saying that we'll have dragons of our own, father? Even you must know how ridiculous that sounds."
Father had raised one red eyebrow up in amusement. "Who said anything about dragons?"
Alfred still wasn't sure what his father had been implying with that statement, but it had to be nothing but a pointless boast from him right? Dragons were the only things that allowed a man to fly. The Tullys did not have dragons and he sincerely doubted the Targaryens would be nice enough to lend them the dragons. It was just too ridiculous to even think about.
The walls of the palace might have been built with resplendent white stone and marble, but the floors had been built using stone of blue and red, the Tully colours with every occasional distance, in the centre of the great wide hallways, engraved into the floor as well was a jumping silver trout that stood out of the blue and red. There was something to be said about having their symbol be trotted upon by everyone from the king to the lowliest servant.
It was said that the palace had enough rooms of various wealth and status to be able to hold all of the lords and ladies of the realm, all the knights and squires and then some with more room to spare. He had only been here for a week now and he would admit, he still had not stepped foot into every room in the palace. And that was not even taking into account the various small palaces, castles and keeps that doted around the grounds that had been taken to build this ode to the power, wealth and beauty of the realm.
Through the great stainless windows, terraced gardens of greens, red, yellow, pink and a multitude of other colours could be seen, the grounds might as well have hosted every single flower known in the known world along with orchards that grew apple trees, of both green and red variety with vineyards for the growing of grapes. Mazes, small and large littered here and about for the adventurous sort willing to dive into their winding passages or lovers to disappear for time spent coupling. Clear blue pools that might as well have been little lakes littered the grounds as well, for those willing to go outside and have a soak in the great outdoors if the great bath house was not to their liking.
It had taken a...while to say the least to reach the palace proper. In fact, he felt rather sorry for the guards that had to patrol these lands for the protection of their king and his family. Father had not made it easy for them.
Perhaps he had forgotten about them.
It certainly wouldn't surprise him really if father had forgotten about the poor souls. Sometimes, he felt as if his father needed another head to help him go through all the great ideas and notions that struck him. A smile almost crept onto his lips, for it seemed that father had recruited a second head to help him with matters of state, himself.
The fact that his father was already entrusting him with certain duties at such a young age was more than enough encouragement to spur him on, even if mother felt that father was passing him on his duties far too young.
His walking had taken him to the antechamber that led into his father's royal office in this new home of theirs. Beside the great white doors, stood two guardsmen of the Royal Guard in immaculately cleaned dull grey half-plate and mail. One of them must have noticed his approach and moved to open the door into the office, bowing as he passed.
Stepping into the room, he found his father humming as he read over a scroll, his back to the door. "Father." Alfred greeted as he entered his father's royal offices, the door silently closing behind him.
Father stopped humming as he turned to glance back in the direction that he had called him from, his eyes lighting up a little at the sight of him. "Son!" Father all but shouted cheerfully as he threw the scroll to the table and made to him, arms outstretched. "Apologies for not seeing you sooner, just getting everything ready." the king said as he embraced him into a gentle hug.
A hug that Alfred returned with as much warmth as his father gave him. In public within sight of others, he would never do so much in terms of showing affection, but alone? His father deserved it.
"You are busy." He replied as they let go of each other. "I understand."
Father frowned for a moment, shaking his head as he did so. "No, no. No matter how busy, I still should make time for you and your siblings, though I suppose I won't have enough time now to go see Henry." he finished with a sigh.
"Henry is doing his own part for the family and kingdom father. He'll make you proud."
"I know that much. All of you make me proud." the king gave him a fatherly smile as he looked at him. "I'm genuinely surprised that I haven't fucked any of you up in any way. I deserve some sort of recognition for that. Or maybe I'm just better than I thought I am?"
He quirked an eyebrow at his father's stroking of his very own ego. Playful as it was. "Really father?"
Father grinned at him, ushering him towards a seat. "I jest, really, I do." He said, as if trying to convince him that he was truly jesting about the last of his words. "Oh yes, if you must know, your mother, Triss and Ned will be joining us soon. And..." Father turned towards his desk once more, searching for something and it was nice to know that the rest of the family would be joining them soon enough in this new home of theirs. Mother had only given birth a couple of months before and the Grand Maester had deemed her and his new sibling, Edward (Ned for short) not yet healthy enough for travel. "I know it's here..." He muttered to himself as he continued to look for whatever it was that he was searching for.
Whilst his father was doing that, Alfred took the chance to look around his father's new royal offices. He wasn't really surprised to learn just like the palace itself, his father had wanted to make some sort of testament with the furnishes of this very room to exude all the majesty that he could muster. And for someone who would be partaking in this majesty for the first time, he would admit, they would feel the full breadth of the power of someone that was most certainly the most powerful king of the time.
Empty suits of armour stood at sentry in the four corners of the room, each holding a different set of weapons within their closed hands, seemingly ready to leap out and protect their liege. There were three maps of stunning colour and detail that might as well have taken the entirety of one of the walls for themselves. Each map was of a certain geographic area, the first was that of the lands that constituted that of the Trident, the second of Westeros and the last, that of the known world, from Last Light in the west to Assha'i in the far east.
"Ah," father said, attracting his attention. In his hand, he held a folded piece of paper that he passed it over to him. "It's a letter from Henry. He wrote it before he went off to sea once more."
Alfred reached out and took the letter for himself, unfolding it and taking a quick glance at the words that it held. The letter was most certainly the sort of thing he thought would come from Henry. "He seems to be enjoying himself." He admitted with a hint of a smile.
"It seems like it, though I'll admit, I certainly did not see him choosing to become a sailor. Did he ever hold an inclinations for sailing?" his father almost seemed to sound disappointed with himself that he didn't know this.
"Not to my knowledge." the prince admitted, though he corked his head back slightly as something came to mind. "Though sometimes, I would catch him staring at passing boats that travelled on the red fork every now and then. I just thought it a passing fancy of a child really."
Father made a nose, but didn't comment on the subject matter any further, though the next subject that the king breached with him was truly surprising for him. "Your grandfather shall be retiring back to Maidenpool soon enough." the king shared with him.
That caught him by surprise. "Truly?"
Father nodded. "Yes, your Uncle Lyam shall be the one to take over his post as my First Minister."
That set his mind awhirl in the fact that it was a reasonable enough choice. Father and Uncle Lyam knew each other since they were children and they were family as well. From his understanding and the few times that he set in the meetings of the Cabinet, he seemed more than capable enough.
"Then who shall become the new Foreign Affairs Minister then?" He asked, interested. It was rare for father to talk matters of state with him like this.
"I was thinking of your goodbrother Jon, but I need him in the south for now, handling some issues for me. Perhaps one of the lordlings capable of the Valyrian tongue? It would be quite the boon really. I mean to truly open channels with the Freehold in the coming future."
Alfred hummed for a moment before pointing out something to father. "You don't like the Freehold."
"I don't like Aegon." Father corrected with an easy laugh. "Though some aspects of the Freehold itself leave me with nothing but disdain for it. Despite that, it's the most powerful polity this side of the world and we'll do best to get along with it lest we find ourselves catching a bad case of dragonfire."
The prince nodded as he understood what his father was saying, his eyes drifting over to the map of Westeros once more. This time, his eye lingering on Cracklaw Point that had soon become to be dominated by the Targaryens, though from what father would tell him, it was less the actions of the Targaryens and more the action of one of their vassal houses, the Celtigars of Claw Isle.
Apparently, they always held some notions of claim to that particular piece of land.
"Wait, this side of the world?" the prince repeated. "What would be the most powerful polity on the other side of the world then?"
"Yi Ti? For all I know, Yi Ti could very well be Warring States period or something..." His father answered with a raising and lowering of the shoulders though his answer only added to his confusion to what he meant by 'Warring States'. "The other would be Qarth I guess. The only way to know for sure is when Theoden's little trip comes back and if everything is going as plan, he should be back before the turn of the year. Hopefully with great wealth and some other trinkets that I sent him to look for. But enough about that, there is a reason why I asked for you to be here son."
"That is?"
"You are nearly a man grown now." Father began with a sigh looking towards him. "You know what that means."
The conclusion was easy to come to. "Marriage."
Father gave out a light chuckle. "Some of our esteemed lords have been dropping not so subtle hints about making a match. I'm sure when I hold our Independence Festival, a great many of them will come with their daughters who are of an age or near enough with you."
"I'm positively looking forward to it father." he crossed one leg over the other as he sat. "Andrew will probably complain to me about the lack of enthusiasm I am showing at having all these ladies throw themselves at me."
"Well, that just means you aren't going to go around sticking your dick into every pussy. Don't give me that look, your mother isn't here and I have said this in total confidence with my oldest son."
"Who would you recommend?" he asked, already trying to forge priorities of which of the daughters of his lords he should pay considerable attention to. It just couldn't be anyone. Like Ciri's marriage, it had to be with an influential enough house that would bring great wealth and power to House Tully. "I'm sure you must have already thought of who I am to marry long before i grew my first chin hair."
"Hm, well, there would be Esmerelda Frey, the youngest of Lord Franklyn."
"The Freys are wealthy...though a bit young. They are looked down already by many of the lords, so they might not like that."
Then again, the building of Edmynburgh on the confluence of the blue and red fork meant that it was going to eventually threaten the control the Freys and their Crossing had on the green fork. Father thought that the city that was being built would eventually go on to expand past the blue fork into the land between the blue and green. He already said the population of the riverlands was growing faster than he had thought it would.
Perhaps Lord Franklyn had not thought that far ahead into the future? It was a possibility as father himself thought it would happen sometime later into not his own reign, but that of Alfred's.
Father shrugged once more. "Yet, the Freys are still wealthier than most of them and can just about go blow for blow in man-power with some of my more powerful lords."
"Who else?"
"Denise Goodbrook, Myranda Piper, Janei Butterwell, Merri Vance...can't remember which branch of the Vances she's from but both houses are influential enough...then there's Serena Stark, Arra Stark, Leia Lannister, Cerella Lannister..."
Alfred almost felt his eyes bulge out of their sockets at the mention of the last names. "The Starks and the Lannisters?"
"You and your siblings are very popular. Hell, Ned is not even a year old and Ronnel Arryn is already making overtures though I doubt he's serious in any of them. It's better for him to marry his own children within the Vale for now, grandchildren though might be another thing entirely."
Alfred was stunned at the notion of a royal match with a princess from another kingdom. "That's a lot to take in father."
"I suppose it is, though I don't really plan on matching you with a foreign princess really. Our dynasty is still young and the foundations still need to be built."
"So it would be a match with a vassal house then?" he asked and father nodded in answer. "Good. That would be the correct course of action, I think."
"You don't have to agree with me on everything son. You can argue and try to prove your point. I'll listen and take your words into account."
The prince shook his head. "I'm being serious father. As you said, our dynasty is still young and the foundations arestill very much being built. We have to tie ourselves strongly with the houses of the Trident lest we fall like the Hoares did."
Father looked at him some before nodding. "Very well, I'll cut off any talks then with Loren and Torrhen about marriages with you."
"Thank you father."
There was a knock on the door that led into his father's chambers that resonated deeply within his father's large offices.
"Come in." the king called out and Alfred was first to notice that the voice that he used was that of Edmyn Tully, King of the Trident rather than that of Edmyn Tully, father and husband.
He decided that it was best to put on his best face as well, that of Alfred Tully, Crown Prince of the Trident and not of that of Alfred Tully, son.
The door swung open, the guard that had opened the door for him before being the one to do so once more for the courtier that had come to see the king. He recognised the young face immediately that sauntered into the king's office with a calmness and confidence of someone who held themselves well enough. The air about him wasn't that of cockiness, but it was something else entirely that was a close enough comparison.
"Ser Edmure," father greeted the Butterwell scion as he stopped in front of the king and bowed. "How are you enjoying the palace? I hope you and the staff of the exterior have been settling into your new offices well enough."
The lordling knight gave off an easy smile as he looked at father. "They have been more than pleasant your grace. There is more than enough space to meet the needs of our ministry."
Father nodded as he took in that information as if it was new to him, though Alfred doubted that was even the case. "Good, good. Glad to hear, Riverrun was becoming a little crowded as the various operations of the ministries increased."
The prince thought father was underselling it really. It had become rather difficult in some parts of the castle to go elsewhere without finding the corridors and hallways clogged with all kinds of clerks and civil servants going from one place to or another. Certainly, this new palace was going to make things far easier for everybody involved.
Ser Edmure's eyes flickered to him from the corner of his eyes quickly enough that Alfred barely noticed the action. Father most certainly did as he waved whatever apprehensions the lordling had away. "He will be your future king at some point. And he's more than old enough and I trust him implicitly. It's about time he learned that there is more to ruling than what the stories tell."
Alfred knew that! He most certainly knew ruling was not easy! Father didn't have to be that patronising about it, but he let it past simply because he was sure that the meeting between father and the lordling was surely of great import and of a subject that he had yet to come across. All the duties that he had carried out for father had been simple and nothing concerning the deeper affairs of state really.
Ser Edmure nodded. "The sellswords have been doing as instructed my lord. When they go foraging, they happen to occasionally 'wander' into the lands of the reachmen and forage there."
Sellswords? Why would father have need for sellswords?
"Can it be traced back to us?"
Ser Edmure shook his head. "We used intermediaries and intermediaries for our intermediaries which were..." the lordlings eyes flickered towards him once more. "retired after their usefulness was met. I'm positive it won't be traced to us in the slightest and anyway, we pay in Stormland coin, sometimes for the southern realms, in Dornish coin as well."
Father gave one single nod of confidence. "Good. How have the reachmen reacted?"
"Their marcher lords have most certainly retaliated with raids of their own, though I hear Prince Gawen has taken control of the situation and might soon lead a large raiding party into the Stormlands."
Father smiled then and it wasn't one of his warm smiles either. It was a cold one, with no warmth. The sort of smile a predator might spot when noticing a particular prey away from the herd. "Excellent, keep up the good work."
Ser Edmure nodded and left.
"Father..."
"Hm?"
"Do I want to know?"
He was quiet for a moment.
"Yes."
And then, father told him.
He had been right, there was more to being a king than being a good man. There was some dark depths that he would have to dive into. To do terrible things for the good of your own kingdom and people.