While Wright was occupied in the North, his elder brother Robert was equally preoccupied in King's Landing.
Since Cersei's dramatic demise — leaping into the sea with her children — the position of queen had been left vacant, and the king was without an heir.
Nobles across the realm with unmarried daughters began flocking to King's Landing. Even Old Walder Frey from the Riverlands was preparing to bring twenty of his daughters, hoping the king might choose one.
In the area near Visenya's Hill, along Steel Street, stood a prominent district. It was one of the higher elevations in the city, lined with luxury shops and noble estates.
These noble residences, though crowded compared to the vast estates in their own lands, still dwarfed the homes of the smallfolk. Three-story buildings were common, with a few reaching four stories. Red roofs and golden walls defined their exteriors, while the interiors reflected opulence.
One such estate belonged to Mathis Rowan, the Lord of Goldengrove in the Reach. Today, he was hosting the coming-of-age banquet for his eldest daughter, who had turned six ten. Numerous friends were invited, including, notably, King Robert himself.
Mathis Rowan was a broad-shouldered man, always clean-shaven, and counted as one of Robert's drinking companions. Their camaraderie was well-known.
Midway through the banquet, a group of Gold Cloaks entered the hall, forming two neat lines. Without any herald to announce him, Robert strode confidently between the rows of guards, his face alight with a cheerful smile. As he passed, the gathered nobles bowed, and Robert waved back in acknowledgment.
Spotting the king's arrival, Mathis Rowan enthusiastically pulled him over to his daughter. "Your Grace, it is an honor to have you attend my daughter's coming-of-age celebration."
Robert clapped Mathis on the shoulder, laughing heartily. "Mathis, my friend! You're looking stronger than ever. One of these days, we must visit Silk Street together for a drink."
Turning to Mathis's daughter, Robert added, "What a robust young woman! Congratulations on becoming an adult."
Mathis's daughter curtsied. "Thank you, Your Grace."
Mathis beamed. "It is truly my daughter's privilege to have Your Grace here today."
"Ha! I still prefer when you call me Robert," the king replied. "You're the only man I know who leaves a half-finished drink just to rush home and see his daughter. A fine father, indeed. I've brought a gift for her."
With that, Robert waved dismissively and strolled off to join the drinking crowd in the banquet hall. Ser Barristan Selmy of the Kingsguard promptly presented the gifts: an assortment of fine jewelry and silks.
"He didn't even ask my daughter's name before leaving," Mathis muttered, shaking his head as he turned to his daughter. "So much for the effort we put into dressing you up." He sighed. "It seems Robert doesn't favor strong girls."
As the host, Mathis Rowan was well aware of the true intentions behind many attendees' presence. Some had even arrived uninvited. However, having accepted their gifts, he was obligated to entertain them.
Meanwhile, Robert was in his element. Holding a goblet of wine, he chatted amiably with two women. As their conversation grew livelier, his hands inevitably found their way to their waists.
Soon, two younger, more radiant ladies in red dresses joined the group. In no time, Robert's hands shifted to the waists of these new companions, abandoning the first pair entirely.
No one dared to eavesdrop on the king's conversation, merely whispering about the two noble widows in red dresses. Meanwhile, the Kingsguard stood stoically, their backs to the king as they vigilantly observed the surroundings.
When the banquet ended, Robert returned to the Red Keep accompanied by the two ladies in red.
Outside the king's chambers, members of the Kingsguard took their positions. Ser Barristan Selmy engaged in quiet conversation with the newest member of the Kingsguard, Lyn Corbray.
Lyn Corbray, a nobleman of the Vale, had long, brown hair and a strikingly handsome appearance. However, he was famously uninterested in women. At his hip hung his family's ancestral Valyrian steel sword, Lady Forlorn.
During Robert's Rebellion, Corbray had initially sided with the Targaryens but eventually joined Robert's cause. At the Battle of the Trident, he earned great renown by slaying one of the Mad King's Kingsguard, Ser Lewyn Martell. However, this act sowed bitterness among the Martells, as Lewyn had been the uncle of Doran and Oberyn Martell.
While a battlefield death should have been regarded as an honorable end, the subsequent murder of Princess Elia and her children by Gregor Clegane fueled Dorne's lingering resentment. To maintain peace, Robert had sent Lyn Corbray back to the Vale with economic compensation.
It wasn't until recently, when the Mountain was delivered to Dorne as a token of goodwill, that relations between House Baratheon and House Martell began to ease.
Shortly after, Jon Arryn, aware of the vacancies in the Kingsguard, wrote to Lyn Corbray, inviting him to join their ranks. Without hesitation, Lyn accepted, bringing Lady Forlorn to King's Landing and swearing his vows to King Robert.
Barristan remarked, "The Rowans didn't stand a chance tonight."
Lyn smirked. "The king has been quite fortunate lately. Every noble seems eager to introduce their daughters to him. He's spoiled for choice."
Barristan replied, "With no queen or legitimate heir, everyone sees an opportunity. But those widows inside won't get far — by law, the queen must be an unmarried maiden."
Lyn chuckled. "Those women don't care about becoming queen. Bedding the king is reward enough. The benefits alone are worth it."
Robert had grown tired of brothels, as a constant stream of minor and middle-tier nobles introduced their daughters at various banquets. These gatherings allowed him to mingle with countless noblewomen, giving him little reason to frequent King's Landing's entertainment districts.
Every few days, rumors would spread about Robert bedding another noble widow or delaying a response to a proposed marriage alliance, only for another house to rise to prominence shortly after.
The Small Council, increasingly concerned, began reaching out to major houses, searching for suitable unmarried women of high status. They even proposed Arianne Martell of Dorne as a candidate, but Prince Doran declined, citing his daughter's recent bout with smallpox.
Robert, meanwhile, continued to revel in his royal lifestyle, delaying any official announcement about a new queen while thoroughly enjoying the attention lavished upon him.
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On the Street of Silk, one of the city's most notorious entertainment establishments thrived. The women here, said to be gathered from across the Seven Kingdoms at great expense, were renowned for their beauty, variety, and charm. In just a few years, the establishment had become the most exclusive venue in King's Landing.
In the alley behind the establishment, the scent of brewing moon tea was ever-present. Women working there frequently found themselves pregnant, and while many managed to avoid childbirth with the tea, some still gave birth despite it. These children were raised collectively on-site, often working within the establishment once they were old enough to serve drinks or clean.
Their futures were uncertain. Boys might find work in the city or join the City Watch, while girls often continued doing business. Others, less fortunate, might succumb to illness or hardship before reaching adulthood.
A fat bearded man was walking in the back alley with a pot of wine in his hand. He was obviously a customer who had just finished his meal.
The portly man navigated the winding alleys until he reached an unassuming residence. The ground floor was modestly furnished, but the second floor was lavishly decorated, a stark contrast to the exterior.
"Lord Varys, if it weren't for your silent steps, I wouldn't have noticed you," said Petyr Baelish, his wiry frame accentuated by the thin mustache that made his face appear even longer. Sitting at a desk with an open ledger, Baelish glanced up and immediately recognized the visitor.
"My lord of the sewers, shouldn't you be working at the City Watch offices during the day? What brings you to this hideaway?" Varys's voice was soft, measured, as it echoed through the unfamiliar surroundings.
Baelish poured Varys a glass of red wine. "The expansion of the port's sewers is complete, but my private ventures require attention. Naturally, I must keep such dealings separate from official business. What brings you here?"
"Did you arrange for two women to end up in the king's bed last night?"
Varys had long collaborated with Baelish due to his control over King's Landing's sewers. He had watched Baelish climb from obscurity to influence with cunning unmatched by most, particularly in his use of money and women.
Investigating the two widows who had shared Robert's bed, Varys discovered that Baelish had financed their gowns and jewelry and ensured their attendance at the Rowan family's banquet.
"Yes," Baelish admitted without hesitation. "The king doesn't want to rush into naming a queen. As loyal subjects, it's our duty to enrich his daily life. In that, I am especially skilled." He smiled slyly, taking a sip of wine.
Varys fixed him with a serious gaze. "What do you want?"
"I want the position of Master of Coin," Baelish replied with equal gravity.
Varys laughed. "That's simply impossible."
Baelish countered, "The current Master of Coin is gravely ill. He won't last much longer."
"And yet it won't be you, Littlefinger," Varys retorted, his tone analytical. "The wealthiest man in the Seven Kingdoms is Tywin Lannister. The most resourceful are Wright and Renly Baratheon. Where do you rank? Your capabilities don't even qualify you publicly."
"Tywin just lost his daughter, grandson, and granddaughter. Wright is off to Essos for years, and Renly is drowning in his own responsibilities. As for me? A little maneuvering could make it possible—for instance, if the Master of Whisperers votes for me in the Small Council."
Varys narrowed his eyes, sensing Baelish had other schemes in motion. "The Small Council has eight votes, plus the king's, making nine. My vote alone would hardly suffice."
"That's not your concern. All I need is your support," Baelish said, raising his glass toward Varys.
"There are wealthier candidates than you," Varys remarked, swirling his wine.
"Being Master of Coin isn't about personal wealth," Baelish replied, his smile unwavering. "It's about generating wealth for everyone else."
Varys considered this for a moment before picking up his glass and clinking it against Baelish's.
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