Chapter 8
STEFFON BARATHEON
They had scoured the entire city in their search for Pety Baelish, and yet had found no trace of the man. The traitor had vanished without a trace, and even the mighty Spider could not find him.
Steffon had his own theories about it, yet he did not voice them out as the Royal Family came together for a dinner a few days after his arrival in the city. The journey to the Capitol had been long and hard, and it had taken him days to regather his strength, and now, as the entire Royal family gathered in the dining Hall, the tension in the room was enough to cut steel.
The King and the Queen had never been on very great terms, yet the wound on the Queen's forehead was a stark reminder of just how far things had gone, and for all her faults, Cersei Lannister was still his mother, and seeing that scar did soften his heart a bit.
Everyone knew how she had gotten the scar, yet none dared to raise their voice for Robert Baratheon was much troubled these days, as he realised the folly of his ways.
The man had spent the last decade and a half pushing all of his responsibilities onto his Hand, only to learn that Jon Arryn had let a snake slither its way into the King's Council. Few would dare question the loyalties of the late Hand, but his competence had now been put into question, which was a source of much trouble for him.
"With Steffon back, we have no more time to waste," Robert Baratheon declared from his seat at the Head of the table.
"We will leave for Winterfell in a week," and the entire room rustled at those words, and his mother beside him was the one to answer.
"I will not be going," and now, for the first time since the meal had begun, the King met his Queen's gaze.
"It is your choice. But I have already written my letters. I shall be leaving with the children by the end of the week," and he should not have said that.
"No," the Queen put down her fork at once.
"You can go that damned wasteland if you so desire, but none of my children will go with you," and the King did not back down.
"They are my children as well, woman. They will do as I command," and she scoffed.
"And one of them was nearly assassinated, all because of your mistakes. No, I will not let them leave until that damned traitor is caught. He could attack again, and destroy everyone," and she was sound in her opinion, for Petyr Baelish was aware of the King's plans of going North.
He could be plotting his revenge, even though Steffon doubted that.
"None would dare attack the King. And we won't be riding alone. We will have guards to protect us," but the Queen was not convinced.
"No. Neither my children nor I will go anywhere," and before Robert Baratheon could say anything, it was his brother who spoke from the side.
"Well, the Queen's words do have some wisdom in them," and Renly Baratheon was supposed to resemble a young Robert Baratheon. The Master of Laws had been given the additional charge of looking over the Crown's ledgers to figure out what the traitor had stolen from them.
"We have a traitor on the loose, and we still do not know anything about his intentions or whereabouts," and the man glanced at him before he continued.
"Going to the North in these circumstances comes with a lot of risks," and now his own brother had turned against him.
"But I want to go to the North..." Myrcella added, innocently.
"And why would you ever want to visit that wasteland?" Joffrey added from the side.
"Do not speak that way of the North!" Robert Baratheon raged at his son and heir.
"The Northmen are proud and ancient people, and none of you would be sitting here without their contributions in the war," and if it were anyone else, Joffrey would have given a retort by now, yet even he would never dare cross their father.
"Don't worry," he said as he gave Myrcella a smile.
"We could go later," he whispered, trying to ease her mind, and she pouted.
"Promise?" she asked, and he nodded.
"We all know that the only reason you even wish to make the journey is that you want to name Eddard Stark as your next Hand," and many whispered against that choice.
"Though many question your choice in his selection?" and Robert Baratheon scoffed.
"Let them," and there were some whispers within the court that Renly Baratheon should be the new Hand, while the Queen's faction believed that the realm needed the experienced hand of Lord Tywin to steer it in the right direction once more.
"There is no man more honorable in the realm than Eddard Stark. He would serve the realm well," and so the reason behind Renly's surprising support for the Queen was only to further himself.
"Yet he knows nothing of the court and its politics. The entire court is a mess. It would be better for you to appoint a Hand who is more...."
"I have made my choice already!" and the King was a stubborn man, and with the entire room turned against him, his mood soured.
"Eddard Stark will be the new Hand!" he declared with finality.
"Then summon him to the court, or ride to the North yourself, for I will not put the lives of my children in danger just for your desire," the Queen chimed in, as she refused to back down, and for a second, he feared that he would throw his goblet at her once more, as he shifted in his seat.
None apart from the Queen or Robert noticed his subtle movement, and he saw those blue orbs fall onto him as Robert Baratheon ground his teeth.
"So be it," he declared.
"Stay then, if you so want. I will go there by myself," he declared, and the Queen relented, as she picked up her fork once again.
"Good riddance," Joffrey whispered from the side, as Tommen and Myrcella pouted in despair.
"Good," and just as the King was about to rise up from his chair, his brother once more spoke up from the side.
"There is one more thing," and Renly's face was flushed with both rage and embarrassment, for Robert's rejection had been obvious.
"With no Hand or Master of Coin to steer things, the council has become too thin. If you are indeed going to the North, then you must at least appoint a new Master of Coin before you depart, for many have begun questioning the Crown's finances," and they owed a great deal of money to the Iron Bank as well, and they were rather notorious for getting their money back.
"I thought I asked you to look over those ledgers," and the Lord of Storms' End may have taken the task, hoping that he could win his brother's favor with it, and then become the next Hand.
Yet Robert Baratheon had already made his choice, and so there was no reason for him to take on such a herculean task now.
"I simply do not have the time for it with my additional responsibilities," and the King frowned at that.
"If only Stannis were here," and that made a chill run down his spine, for the Master of Ships had already departed for Dragonstone before his arrival and had refused to return despite multiple letters from the King.
And so now they had to choose a new Master of Coin.
"Perhaps I could look them over," and now the entire room turned their gaze towards him, as the King frowned.
"What do you even know about such things, brother?" Joffrey taunted, and he simply ignored.
"I have been doing the ledgers for Casterly Rock and Lannisport for the last two years. I devised a new system that was praised by both Grandfather and Maester Crelyn for its efficiency. I could do the same thing for the Crown," and Renly Baratheon must not have expected that.
"Well, that may be so, but this is a very complicated matter..."
"The only reason that I was attacked was that my grandfather asked me to investigate the Crown's finances. He gave me that task, for he deemed me to be the most suitable person for it," and none would dare question Tywin Lannister.
"Renly is right. You are simply too young for such things," the King countered.
"I believe we have all learned that age does not equate to competency," his mother cut in once more, as she taunted the King over Jon Arryn's mistake once more.
"We need someone we can trust to go over those ledgers, and if my father has deemed Steffon to be competent enough, then there is no one else more suitable to the task than him," and he was surprised by her support.
"He is too young to be on the Council," the King countered.
"I am not asking for a seat on the Council, though I do have a very sound suggestion regarding that as well," and he doubted he had ever spoken that much before on such occasions.
"Who?" questioned his father.
"My uncle, Lord Tyrion," and Renly chuckled at that.
"And here I thought you were being serious," and he was serious, yet he ignored the man as he continued.
"He is both smart enough to uncover all of Littlefinger's ploys, and more than that, he is the Queen's brother. You will find no one more loyal to the Crown than him in this city," and Robert Baratheon was not fond of the Lannisters, yet he was left with no choice.
The realm needed a Master of Coin, and it needed one fast.
Seeing his brother's silence, Renly Baratheon finally realised his mistake as he saw that the King was truly considering his suggestion.
"On second thought, I think I might be able to fi...."
"So be it," he announced, looking at him.
"Tell the Imp that there is to be a Council Meeting tomorrow, and that I want him there," and his uncle had chosen to forego this family gathering in favor of another gathering, though one where people were more sparsely dressed.
"He will be there," and Renly's nostrils flared at that, as Robert rose and left the dining Hall, and the lord of Storm's End gave him a glare, before he followed after his brother, ending the gathering.
.
.
.
Later that night, he found himself walking through the streets of Kingslanding with Jaime Lannister as they tried to hunt down his uncle. By now, word had spread around about the new appointment that had been made by the King, and even Jaime had heard about it.
"Father's trained you well," he praised with a genuine smile on his face.
"This is best for the realm," he countered, and that was true.
"The realm or the family?" Jaime Lannister questioned.
"Both," he answered truthfully as they walked down the street of Silk, and the people parted to make way for them.
"Your mother will kill me when she finds out that I let you come with me to this place," and she would never do that to him.
"She won't," and Tyrion Lannister had made himself at home at the pleasure house that had formerly been the property of their former Master of Coin, and they came to a halt outside the establishment.
"Have you searched this place?" he asked, and Jaime nodded.
"Yes, we have."
"Well, I might like to do that once more," and he nodded as they entered the premises, as a dozen guards surrounded him from all sides, and the whores all backed away in fear as they spotted the giant figure of the Hound behind him, standing guard.
One of the women stepped forward at Jaime's prompting.
"Where can I find my brother?" he asked, as he slid her a gold dragon, and she pointed towards a room in the back.
"Thank you," and they moved forward, as Jaime knocked on the door.
"The more the better," Tyrion's voice came from inside, as Jaime shook his head and pushed open the door, and there he lay surrounded by nearly a dozen naked whores, stradling his relatively brief body.
"Oh," and the tone changed as he spotted him.
"Oh," and he raised a brow.
"I don't think you have come to join me," and he shook his head.
"You are right. I have actually come here to give you something," and he reached into his pocket and threw the badge towards him, and Tyrion picked it up from the body of one of the women, as he examined the golden badge.
"What is this?"
"Tyrion Lannister, by the decree of King Robert Baratheon, you are hereby appointed to the Small Council as the King's Master of Coin," and those mismatched eyes widened.
"Huh, that was a good joke. For a second, I nearly believed you," and Jaime was the one who spoke up.
"It is true," and now Tyrion's smile vanished.
"Robert has made you Master of Coin. There is to be a meeting of the Small Council tomorrow. We came here to inform you that...."
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