"Ha!"
Small Paul thrust his blade strongly.
"Huh!"
Small Paul slashed the heavy sword with ease.
"Ugh!"
Small Paul rolled to the side, dodging.
That was Small Paul's life ever since he arrived at Ramsgate. His training regime was designed by Lord Wylis himself. It was made to be as simple and easy to follow as possible. Sword slashes, basic leg work, basic responses, and how to stand menacingly.
It was clear to everyone that Small Paul would never see a true battlefield. He wasn't made for it. If sent into battle, he'd be the easiest target. Still, when covered in fine, full-body armor, with the visor down, he looked intimidating.
In simple terms, he was the scarecrow of Ramsgate. His job was to make rounds with the town's guards; maybe smack a few thieves on the face. Small Paul did those things easily. He was also good at following basic commands.
If told to stand, he'd stay standing unless told to move.
"Paul, get inside and put your armor on. You'll be at Lord Wylis's side when the King arrives."
A commanding order came from the guardhouse at the outer courtyard. Squire Chett stood there, already dressed in dull-silver armor, a dark grey cape on his back, marked with House Kaiser's sigil of two wings and a fisted gauntlet. Ramsgate was still in the process of standardizing armor and sigil markings.
"Aye."
Small Paul dropped his fighting stance instantly and moved, humming something to himself as he did that.
Chett sidestepped and allowed Small Paul to walk through the door. Remaining behind, he looked around at the outer courtyard of the castle, already decorated to the brim with hanging lanterns. Lord Wylis had personally made those new hanging lamps, made of hardened paper, shaped like stars and round moons, with candles enclosed inside.
It was morning now, but at night, those lamps illuminated and gave a very dreamy sight. The same decoration covered the entire town in varying degrees. The taverns were more decorated than regular homes. The castle was the most decorated, of course.
Not just the outside, it was even more lavish inside, with curtains hanging around, sigils of House Kaiser and House Baratheon everywhere. Candles, decorative lamps everywhere. The Great Hall had been turned into a feast hall, where long tables were set, and a single head table where the King would sit.
The hall was the most impressive place. There, ropes covered the ceiling, each rope going from one wall to the opposite wall. On the ropes hung countless decorative lamps, some even shaped like Stags, others shaped like Fists; moons, stars, and more. Fire torches rested against each pillar. Each table had its own candelabras, made recently by the blacksmith.
Chett was personally nervous because Lord Wylis had given him the responsibility of managing the feast, which was more like a festival. His duty was to keep the castle clean, decorated, and safe from being burned down, and of course, to host the feast. It was a nerve-racking task for him.
My lord, please find a steward soon.
He could see that his lord had grand ambitions. The town was growing fast, but with that came increased responsibility. The town still didn't have a master-at-arms. The castle didn't have either a steward or a chamberlain.
Naturally, many of those responsibilities fell upon his shoulders.
Chett devoted himself from dusk till dawn. First thing after waking, he would meet all the patrolling guards of the town to know if anything had happened. Then he'd eat and train himself, then prepare to report to his lord. After that, he'd either be given work by the lord or he'd go on his own to train the men, patrol the castle, inspect the kitchens, and then do some reading on his own to grow his mind.
Sighing, he looked at the sword tied to his hip, his new blade, a gift from Lord Wylis for his promotion to being a squire. Its pommel held the mark of House Kaiser, and the blade was a gorgeous, glowing silver. The scabbard, as well, was covered in intricate patterns.
Yet my lord wants to make a better blade.
He longingly stared at his blade, lost in thought. He remembered that time Lord Wylis offhandedly said he knew how to make steel nearly as strong as Valyrian steel. Domakus, he believed, was the name; he wasn't sure.
I can't wait to see it with my eyes.
Being a squire, he knew almost everything about how wise Lord Wylis was. The medicines made with the Maester. He'd also seen the printing press, a magical apparatus from which he personally benefited, as he could now possess a few books of his own without ruining himself.
Of course, he also knew about the realm-wide most wanted woman Lord Wylis hid in his castle. He was the only man to know about it after Lord Wylis and Brandon Stark. He rather liked them as they all treated him so kindly, without any prejudice or ego. He'd also asked Lord Wylis why he took so much risk.
To that, Lord Wylis had only said 'This is the right thing to do' and 'I cherish them'. Naturally, he knew the children Lord Wylis sired with many of them. It was strange at first, but ever since that night Lord Wylis brought the Frey bridge down, he didn't care.
If any man in the world deserved all those famous beauties, then it was Lord Wylis. Gods, he felt his lord didn't have enough children. After all, if Lord Wylis was so mighty, his kids would be at least half as good.
The realm has no idea what's coming.
He almost grinned to himself, imagining the future where Lord Wylis's sons dominate the Seven Kingdoms.
Perhaps, he was a fanatic about serving Lord Wylis. Perhaps, he trusted his lord blindly. Yet all of those accusations sounded like compliments to Chett.
"Paul ready."
Chett turned around. And there Small Paul stood, like a wall of steel, his armor one of the select few customised. It was fairly basic, however. The only thing that stood out was the etched sigil of House Kaiser on the armor's chest plating. His armor had it too.
"Best we're off. Lord Kaiser waits at the docks already," Chett said, moving out ahead. "We're lucky men, you and I, to be chosen for this. He means for us to stand behind him, and he'll name us to the King as well."
Chett himself was a tall man, as tall as Brandon Stark. Small Paul was a few inches taller than him, and Lord Kaiser was the tallest amongst them all.
The two walked out of the castle and passed through the cleaned streets. Chett gave one last look, making sure everything was prepared well. Before long, they arrived at the docks where the lord's ships had been moved away. In their place now was the King's flagship anchored. The gangway was yet to be placed.
"My lord."
"Right on time, boys. Stand behind me and try to look fearsome. The King will be stepping off shortly."
Chett nodded and stood on the right behind his lord, while Small Paul took the left. Only they were armored, Lord Wylis was dressed in noble robes.
"Understood, my lord."
"Paul ready."
####
Wylis was tired, but still looking forward to it. He'd worked hard to make sure the 'A Tyrant's Feast' quest would succeed. He'd planned a whole festival around it; the theme was Christmas. He didn't have modern lights and materials, but he'd improvised.
Lyanna, Elia, and Rhaella were also hidden underground, including the children.
"Be proud but humble," Wylis advised Anna, standing right beside him, acting as his wife. In her arms was Magnus, the chunky boy, looking too big in her embrace. Thankfully, he couldn't speak that well, hence no fear of him blurting something out.
On his left was Ashara, proud and dressed in a beautiful, House Dayne-themed gown and cloak. Cute little Arthria was also dressed up, in her arms. At the same time, Wenda was also there, with two children, and also Ros, who was pregnant but it didn't show yet.
He wasn't ashamed of having so many women and children. And he had no desire to hide them from the world. He was proud of each one of them, and they were all a part of Ramsgate.
Thud!
At last, the gangway was set. A few men marched down first, armored, donning House Baratheon colors. Then appeared Ser Barristan Selmy in the lead, helmet off, but alert.
Wylis met Barristan's eyes to see if there was any animosity between them. But the knight just bowed his head and stepped aside after walking down from the gangway.
Man looks older than his age.
He remembered having countless opportunities to kill Barristan Selmy during the Battle of the Trident. But he'd held back, letting the man live. He liked him to a degree; there was genuine honor in him, and he also helped Brandon survive in the Black Cells.
"Wylis! You towering ox!"
There came the King's booming voice. Wylis looked back at the gangway and smiled, measuring Robert's physical condition. Not much had changed. He didn't look fat, nor filthy. His beard was groomed, and there was his warhammer hung on his hips.
"Welcome to Ramsgate, Your Grace." Wylis took a knee. He may be a future Tyrant, but for now, Robert was the King of Westeros. "I hope the journey was less boring than I remember."
"Seven bloody hells, it was boring." Robert clapped his meaty hands on Wylis's shoulders, hauled him up, and crushed him in a bear hug. "Talking to Jon bores me stiff in one Small Council. Imagine weeks of the old goat droning on."
Jon?
Wylis stepped back from the embrace and looked behind Robert, as more and more figures emerged from the ship. Other than two more Kingsguards, one Ser Mandon Moore, and one Boros Blount, there were also a few soldiers donning the colors of House Arryn. And sure enough, Jon Arryn finally emerged, behind him was…
Why is she here?
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Advance chapters on [PATREON] are in long-form format. I have 11 long chapters of this story on P@treon. That's equal to 40-46 Webnovel chapters.
Check out Wylis X Lyanna Stark NSFW Art & Wylis with Kids SFW ART, and advance chapters at [email protected]/MrPlotThickens Or Subscribestar.adult/mrplotthickens
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