A seed of ambition had taken root in Roose Bolton's cold heart. He did not immediately accept Lord Tywin's proposal of an alliance, but crucially, he did not refuse it either.
From this calculated silence, Tywin Lannister understood that the Lord of the Dreadfort was tempted. All that was needed was a perfect, foolproof plan, and the houses of Stark and Tully would be annihilated.
And so, in the shadows, Lord Tywin and Lord Walder Frey began to conspire. Their plan was to lure Robb Stark to the Twins to personally offer his apologies. Once inside the castle walls, they would kill him.
To bait the trap, Lord Walder would pretend to forgive the young king's broken vow. In a show of reconciliation, he would offer the hand of one of his daughters to Lord Edmure Tully instead. With such a generous offer on the table, Robb Stark would surely let his guard down.
Unaware of the great conspiracy forming around her son, Lady Catelyn rode toward the Twins. She intended to apologize to Lord Walder on Robb's behalf and beg him to help persuade her son to honor the original marriage pact.
Lord Walder, already committed to his new alliance with the Lannisters and Boltons, put on a pleasant facade. He offered no resistance, allowing Catelyn and her escort to pass through the Twins and continue on their way to Riverrun.
By the time Lady Catelyn's carriage arrived at Riverrun, however, the political landscape had shifted dramatically. She learned that the lords of the North and the Riverlands, inspired by his string of victories, had renounced their allegiance to the Iron Throne and proclaimed her son the King in the North, ruler of both great realms.
At the same time, news came from the Iron Islands. King Balon Greyjoy had fallen from a bridge into the sea and drowned. His long-exiled younger brother, Euron, had suddenly returned to seize power, claiming the Salt Throne and declaring himself King of the Isles.
In the blink of an eye, four kings now vied for power in Westeros.
In the Red Keep at King's Landing, King Joffrey flew into a rage.
Crash!
"Rebels! They're all rebels!" he shrieked, smashing a priceless vase against the wall. His handsome face was twisted into a hideous snarl. "How dare they name themselves kings? I am the one true king of the Seven Kingdoms! Damn them! Damn them all to hell!"
Meanwhile, Tyrion Lannister, wearing the pin of the Hand of the King that had once belonged to his father, heard the young king's tantrum. Ignoring the noise, he headed for the Small Council chamber, his bodyguard Bronn at his side. The king's seat would be empty; Joffrey had neither the interest nor the patience for the tedious work of governance.
When Tyrion entered, only three other men were present: Petyr "Littlefinger" Baelish, the Master of Coin; Varys, the Master of Whisperers; and Grand Maester Pycelle.
The new Master of Laws, Lord Mace Tyrell, remained in his own lands in the Reach. And the new Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, Ser Jaime Lannister, had remained at Harrenhal with Lord Tywin's army, vowing to see Robb Stark pay for his defeat.
Varys, the eunuch, began the meeting, his soft voice relaying the latest news. "Stannis Baratheon has declared himself king on Dragonstone. The lords of the North and Riverlands have named Robb Stark their king. And now, Euron Greyjoy calls himself king of the Iron Islands. Adding our own dear Joffrey to the count, the realm is suddenly plagued by monarchs."
Littlefinger rested his hands on the table, a relaxed smile playing on his lips. "This cannot be allowed to continue, my lords. If we are not careful, more kings will start popping up. The common folk won't know who to obey." He sighed theatrically. "Ah, we can only pray that Lord Tywin defeats these rebels quickly."
Tyrion frowned. He could hear the distinct note of amusement in Littlefinger's tone. He already knew none of these men could be trusted, and since becoming acting Hand, he had been exhausted by the constant effort of running the city while watching his back.
"Don't you worry about the 'pseudo-kings,' Lord Baelish," Tyrion said, his voice sharp. "Their heads will end up on spikes along the Red Keep's walls soon enough. My father has already made detailed plans." He gave them a piece of the truth, his gaze a subtle warning to the schemers at the table.
Varys, his powdered face wreathed in a pleasant smile, nodded as if in perfect agreement. "There is other news," he continued in his high, lilting voice. "Whispers from across the Narrow Sea. Some say dragons have been seen again, in the company of the Targaryen girl, Daenerys. I cannot say if it's true."
Littlefinger's grey-green eyes glinted. "Dragons?" he scoffed. "The last Targaryen dragon died more than a century ago. The world is rid of them. It is baseless gossip, nothing more."
Grand Maester Pycelle, who had been dozing, mumbled, "Gone... yes, yes, long gone..."
Tyrion didn't believe it either. Dragons had been extinct for hundreds of years. It was just another rumor in a city full of them. The real threats were Stannis, Robb, and Euron.
He brought the council back to the matter at hand. "The wedding between King Joffrey and Lady Margaery Tyrell must be arranged as soon as possible. We must also send another raven urging Lord Mace to come to King's Landing and take up his post."
Tyrion continued, laying out his strategy. "With the support of the Reach, Stannis is of little concern. Once my father finishes with the northern and riverland armies, he will march south, and our combined forces will crush Stannis with ease."
With that settled, Tyrion turned his mismatched eyes to Littlefinger. "Lord Baelish, I hear you and Lady Lysa Arryn of the Eyrie are old acquaintances. Perhaps you could take a trip to the Vale and persuade her—and the other eastern lords—not to send their armies to aid the rebel Robb Stark?"
He leaned forward, a predatory glint in his eye. "Of course, if Lady Lysa and the lords of the Vale could be persuaded to answer King Joffrey's call and assist my father... that would be better still."
Littlefinger's easy smile tightened. He had been feeling powerless in King's Landing lately, a spider with his web clipped. He had been looking for a way out for some time. But this was not the way he would have chosen.
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