Not long after Margaery left the godswood, she met several Tyrell guards waiting for her at a crossroads.
The group then departed together, exiting the Red Keep and boarding the carriage that awaited them, heading toward the Tyrell family's manor outside King's Landing.
She needed to tell her grandmother what had transpired today with Kal Stone—and hear her counsel.
After decisively turning away, Kal let out a quiet sigh of relief once he had walked some distance.
All along the way, he had not felt the slightest sense of being watched, nor had he noticed any gaze upon him.
There was even a small stretch of space around him that seemed conspicuously empty.
In the Red Keep—a place full of working servants, patrolling guards, and countless sets of watching eyes—that was no small feat.
And that also meant that his "chance encounter" with Margaery Tyrell, the Rose of Highgarden, had not been any coincidence.
Fortunately, he had reacted quickly and withdrawn even faster, giving Margaery Tyrell no time to respond further before she could press any new move.
Otherwise, had he really fallen for some sort of beauty trap, things afterward would have become troublesome indeed.
Kal knew very well that Margaery, this seemingly delicate and radiant rose, was anything but simple.
After all, she had been able to marry Renly immediately after Robert's death and become a perfectly poised queen.
She could even tolerate her husband and her brother together and offer them advice from the side.
Then, after Renly's death, under Tyrion Lannister's mediation, she had immediately managed to entangle herself with Joffrey.
From Sansa Stark she had learned Joffrey's secrets and fully understood his nature and character.
And even after learning that Joffrey was a man with violent tendencies, what she chose to do was to comply with all his twisted whims, even to the point of encouraging them—indulging and humoring him in everything.
When everyone looked down on him, ignored him as king, and even Tyrion occasionally slapped his face, the Little Rose would praise him, stand with him at every moment, and share in the joys unique to Joffrey, gratifying his vanity.
Whatever Joffrey liked, she would cater to it, offering him the recognition and respect he craved most.
To the point that even Emperor Joffrey was tamed by her methods.
Yet after Joffrey's death, she was able once again to shift direction and turn toward the pure and innocent Tommen.
Born noble, a radiant rose that seemed fated only to bloom in the high heavens, she could still stoop down without disdain for the mud on the ground.
Three parts innocence, seven parts calculation, and ten parts beauty made this Rose of Highgarden's every act and deed nearly flawless.
But that was the view from a third party's perspective.
As for a man, indeed—having such a woman as one's wife, one who could understand warmth and cold, tolerate everything about you—was undoubtedly perfection itself.
Yet in this world, nothing perfect ever truly exists.
And even if it did, the price could never be borne.
Kal saw this very clearly, and with full calm.
If he were king, Margaery Tyrell would be his finest queen—but unfortunately, he was not.
And Kal had not been lying when he said he had something to attend to.
Barring any surprises, there was still a certain dwarf waiting for him to go back and pacify him.
Between the Little Rose and the Imp, Kal would choose the latter without hesitation.
And if possible, Kal did not wish for the one person in this world he could truly call a friend to part ways with him forever, never to meet again.
It was not a pleasant feeling.
Kal was not so heartless as that.
More importantly, he wanted Tyrion's help.
At the very least, with Tyrion by his side, the difficulties of subduing the Westerlands would be greatly reduced.
Moreover, Tyrion Lannister himself was truly a man of great talent—Kal needed him as an advisor.
After all, compared with the empty, decorative title of Warden of the East, which was nothing but a promise in name, his current appointment by Robert as Warden of the West and Lord of Casterly Rock held far greater significance.
From this moment onward, he finally possessed a true foundation of his own.
Although that foundation had yet to be fully in his grasp, at the very least, he had gone from having nothing to now establishing a basis for development.
In law, no one could deny that fact.
For Kal, compared to his earlier identity as a bastard, this was a qualitative change.
Besides, only after he completely took hold of the Westerlands would he have the confidence to pursue what he truly desired.
As for worries about Robert taking a new queen and fathering a legitimate heir to the throne, Kal had no concern.
A child counted only once it was born; if not, all talk was meaningless.
And if possible, what he truly needed was for Robert to legitimize him.
That was what Kal next needed to prepare for.
It was also one of the reasons why he remained so cautious toward House Tyrell.
Compared with seizing by brute force, this method was steadier, safer, and subtle as gentle rain.
It would avoid many unnecessary troubles.
Moreover, once he truly became Kal Baratheon, Robert's rule would only grow more stable.
With the Lannister threat already erased, even if House Tyrell sought to advance their ambitions, they would have no choice but to step back—perhaps even fully throw in their lot with him by then.
Rather than the way things stood now, where everything was calculation and transaction.
Kal was fully confident that once he became heir to the Iron Throne, the Seven Kingdoms would only grow stronger, their bonds ever closer.
When that time came and he became king, many issues would cease to be issues at all.
So for now, Robert sitting upon the throne was what truly served Kal's interests.
He would simply have to wait.
Kal was in no hurry.
Just as Kal Stone had managed to avoid House Tyrell's probing attempt and was cheerfully returning to his quarters, secretly pleased with his own small calculations, the Hand of the King, Lord Eddard Stark—who had just finished the morning council and was about to resume his governmental duties—was interrupted by an unexpected visitor.
Within the Tower of the Hand, having set aside time with his family and made plans with Catelyn and the others to dine together that evening in the tower's hall, Lord Eddard Stark hurried straight to his study.
It was not that he was a work addict, but with the king neglecting his duties, there was naturally more for his Hand to handle.
Catelyn, for her part, bore no complaint about her husband's busyness. At least it was far better than the scheming and power struggles she had once feared.
The gods knew how deeply she had worried for him during the wars.
Now that all had finally settled and House Lannister had been completely wiped out, Catelyn could at last lay her concerns to rest—no longer anxious that her husband might be outmatched by those of the Lannister bloodline in King's Landing.
What Maester Luwin had told her that night in her chamber had been right: times had changed.
She could no longer think in terms of those old northern superstitions—that whenever a Stark went south, misfortune would follow.
And, more importantly, Bran's sudden unease and fear during the council that day had caught her attention.
She needed now to look after her child.
Besides, ever since she had come south to King's Landing to stay by her husband's side, the nights still belonged to her and Ned alone.
As for Bran's betrothal to the Freys, that could wait until the evening, when she and Ned were alone—then she would bring it up.
A knock sounded at the door.
Just as the Hand sat down and opened a document, he froze in place.
"Enter," the Hand said in a deep voice, closing the document he had just opened.
There was a sharpness in Eddard's tone.
At his command, a man pushed the door open and stepped inside.
It was Harwin—one of the guards Eddard had brought south in service to House Stark.
"My lord," said Harwin, bowing upon entering, then quickly added, "Lord Stannis Baratheon, Master of Ships, wishes to see you."
"Stannis?!"
Hearing that name, Eddard Stark froze for a moment, and his brows immediately furrowed.
It reminded him of something unpleasant—something connected to what Kal Stone had told him about the true circumstances of Jon Arryn's death.
Although he no longer needed to investigate the cause of death of his foster father, the former Hand of the King, Lord Jon Arryn, Eddard Stark still could not help but recall the matter.
For before Jon Arryn had been murdered by Littlefinger and Lysa, he had been in contact for some time with Stannis Baratheon.
Yet those two men had originally had no reason to cross paths.
Eddard now understood that the link between them back then had in fact been about Robert's three children not being his trueborn heirs, but bastards of Jaime and Cersei.
It was a matter concerning the Baratheon family's royal line of succession, so it was no wonder Stannis had taken it to heart.
But now he had come seeking out Eddard himself—the current Hand of the King.
What was he planning to do? Eddard could not help but wonder.
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