Rumors about my relationship with Asha began to spread briskly around the capital, bringing my figure back into the public spotlight. I wish I could say that it didn't bother me at all, but it didn't. However, at the same time, I can't say that it had any effect on me or my actions, because I was already used to whispering and licking rumors, which traditionally served as one of the few amusements for the local nobility. I got so used to it that if I hadn't followed the topic on purpose, I could have lived long enough without suspecting anything.
It was even funny to hear opinions from different sides. There were many people at the court. West, River and Storm Lands, Valley. Aristocrats, lords, and knights. Someone temporarily, and someone for a long time, having made their way into the retinues of certain important people. Adding to the diversity was the fact that both the king and the queen had their own courts. Robert had representatives from a wide variety of territories in his retinue, while Cersei had almost all immigrants from western lands or representatives of the houses of the royal domain.
Most of the courtiers relished the fact that there was an affair between the king's brother and the princess of a distant Great House. To them, the Greyjoys are just another rebellious lord, just like the Martells. Wayward, original, proud and... not outstanding in any way. Because of this, Asha was evaluated exclusively as a girl. Her outrageousness, lifestyle, character. In general, everything that she demonstrated so vividly and without much concealment in the capital. Negative gossip grew out of this, for example, about total debauchery, especially with members of her team. These gossips, of course, came from evil-tongued matrons and people who had never seen Asha. Experienced men, on the other hand, held different positions, because they could distinguish such ladies from the majority. There is no special science here. Yes, Asha had a couple of affairs in the past, and it would be strange otherwise. I know about them for sure, because at some point she tried to "prick" me with them for some reason. But there can be no question of any kind of brokenness and licentiousness here. This girl has a really strong sense of self-worth (and for some people, it's too much for their taste), which affects her attitude towards men. Not the most positive thing, I'll say. What can not be said about her communication with representatives of her own sex. This is where Asha can sometimes lose her head.
This time, I didn't limit myself to silent observation, but carefully started a rumor: "what if the affair between Renly and Asha has something more behind it? A dynastic alliance? Have the Baratheons decided to consolidate their position in the West?"
Oh, this served as a catalyst for a surge in activity, allowing us to gather a lot of interesting and even useful opinions and sentiments. Again, as expected, most didn't give a damn. They lived in their own little worlds, bounded by the walls of the Red Castle and fighting for the most delicious places at the king's table. Another lords' affair? Just another interesting gossip about interesting people. These news flash by, surprise you for a moment and become a conversation starter, but the very next moment you return to your normal life. But there were some notable exceptions.
The most categorical opinions were expressed by people from the West and Riverlands. Westerners have a complicated relationship with the Ironborn, bordering on blood feud. Which is quite understandable. Rivermen have something similar, although their negativity has already cooled. Well, how to "cool down" ... the degree is still high enough not to mention that many noble houses from the Riverlands, one way or another, owe their existence to the Ironborn. And no matter how many "river aristocrats" once again hush up their kinship with the islanders, trying to trace their genealogy back to ancient times, away from the Hoars and their vassals, but the facts remain an extremely stubborn thing. Sometimes it seems that rivermen just want to lean against someone. "What if something falls out of the hands of the Lannisters?" is the question that I now see in the actions and inactions of many of them. An unpleasant audience.
In general, the Lannister party, whose unspoken leader was the Queen herself, became the bright opponents of the "upcoming possible" relationship of the Baratheons and Greyjoys. Many consider her to be the guide of her father's will, but this is not entirely true. Even a little on the contrary. Tywin, including at the expense of his daughter, is always aware of the movements of his beloved son-in-law at court, and to a certain extent depends on how Cersei presents this or that fact.
My entourage and those of the lords of the Stormlands who regularly hang around the court reacted calmly to such rumors, which I was incredibly glad of. After all, these rumors were spread primarily to probe my own vassals. For them, as for most, the Greyjoys are feudal lords just like them. Maybe the faith is different, but it's not that scary. And what? The Starks don't have much faith in the Seven either. And the fact that the Greyjoys, like all Ironborn, have a well-deserved reputation as pirates, the inhabitants of the Stormlands and, as I believe, all the inhabitants of the eastern coast of the kingdom frankly do not care. The Greyjoys are far away, and no one is interested in what they are doing there. These are the problems of the Lannisters, Tyrells, and God knows who else. Moreover, everyone in the Stormlands knows the highly respected House of Tarth. They also know that he is related to Harlow. Queen Alisanne had once promoted a marriage between these two houses, and nothing terrible had happened. So why should something bad grow out of Baratheon and Greyjoy's marriage now?
It would be another matter if I actually tried to marry someone from the Dornish aristocracy. Here I would have faced such rejection of my own vassals that it could undermine my authority in my own patrimony. There's enough blood between the Dornishmen and the Stormlands to fill a couple of dried-up seas in Essos. A real blood feud. The antagonism that the West and the Iron Islands never dreamed of, between which there are rare, but there are contacts, communication, even marriages. In the Stormlands, especially in the Dornish Marches, the attitude towards the Dornishmen is about the same as that of the Northerners towards the wildlings. For them, these are stupidly not people whom it is desirable to immediately stab at a meeting. This mutual love has combed its hair a little over two centuries of living in the same state, but it has not gone away.
I might well have encountered a similar attitude if I had tried to marry a foreigner. I had ideas, including out loud, about young girls from free cities, because the masters and the sea lord also have daughters, granddaughters and a rich dowry. But the Westerosi nobility, as a more or less unified organism, does not like it very much when one of them marries with representatives of the free cities. Again, with the exception of the Dornishmen, which does not add to their points of love and recognition among other subjects of the crown. The Essenes, for various reasons, have earned a not very good reputation as nouveau riche, unscrupulous and vile people who only have to feel solid ground under their feet, as they immediately begin to row everything for themselves, regardless of anyone and, ultimately, ruining everything they touch. The Essenes, in the local sense, are people whose word cannot be trusted in any case, and this is especially true of women. And after all, everyone has vivid examples in sight! Serala Darklin, nicknamed the Lace Snake, who, having married Lord Darklin, ruined his entire family with her intrigues. Tiana of Pentosha, the third wife of Maegor the Cruel, who remained in the memory of the people as a sorceress and mistress of the whisperers, who killed many people. Daemon Targaryen's mistress, Misaria, known as the Pale Leech, also showed up at Rainier, in a variety of unpleasant ways. Larra Rogare, whom Viserys III was forced to marry, and who caused a stir. And what? The twelve-year-old kid was clearly not against the company of a nineteen-year-old beauty who absolutely did not want to accept either the culture or the language of her new home. Aegon IV's Unworthy minions are Bellegera Oteris, aka the Black Pearl, and Serenea of Lys, aka sweet Serenia. For the Westerosi, the idea has become established that a wife from the East is a harbinger of misfortune and trouble.
Moreover, the Westerosi nobility of their Esso "colleagues" do not consider themselves equal to the word "at all", quite rightly believing that in the free cities the elite come from the "vile estate". Merchants, shipowners, shopkeepers, and pirates. And before anyone thinks about noble Westerosi with a similar reputation, you need to remember and understand that it's one thing when you're a lord who has decided to engage in piracy, but it's quite another when you're a pirate who has reached the top of power, become a magister, and suddenly imagine yourself to be the equal of aristocrats. In any case, no matter how you look at it, marriage to an oriental girl in the eyes of the aristocracy of the Seven Kingdoms may well be considered a misalliance, which in the future, whether in ten years or a generation, may lead to very unpleasant consequences. By the way, isn't it time to remember the Dornishmen again? Here is one of the typical schemes of how they show everyone what kind of distinctive and independent, unique snowflakes they are. At the same time, they are in political isolation, into which they have driven themselves.
However, gossip is gossip, but very unexpectedly, the rumor I started greatly agitated Westerners, including their leader– Cersei Lannister…
"My lord." - I was distracted from my thoughts by Vigmar, who was huddled at the entrance to the office.
Just a few minutes ago, I had a conversation with Brienne. Nothing special, just the usual weekly report from the Lady Justiciar. It is worth noting that Lady Tarth does an excellent job with the duties assigned to her. In principle, she fights against any manifestation of disregard for royal laws, is straightforward and incorruptible. Many may reasonably argue that these are not the best qualities for a royal official, but Lord Interrogator Bywater smooths out the corners in the workflow perfectly. Let's just say, "an evil and kind policeman."
It soon played a role that, seeing the relationship of the chief investigator with me, they began to turn to Bywater for help and services of various kinds. Thanks to this, I was able to get hold of a number of debtors and informants. Fortunately, with both Lady Brienne and Ser Jocelyn, we had the foresight to discuss these points back on shore in order to avoid internal conflicts. After all, "team relations" are especially important to us – I brought them in not only for the formal performance of official duties, which they both perfectly understand. They serve me, not the kingdom.
"A royal guardsman is asking for you, my Lord." – Vigmar, catching my interested look, hesitated, obviously choosing the words to continue. –And... there's Lady Brienne... and…
"I get it." I abruptly got up from the table and went to meet my guest.
Plunging into the intrigues and processes swirling around me, I did not lose sight of my subordinates, including Lady Brienne. Frankly, I was worried about how she would settle in and get used to it. However, to my great surprise and relief, the heiress of the house of Tarth showed her best side, literally making a splash among the locals.
The first thing the courtiers started talking about was our sexual relationship with her, due to her resemblance to a man. But it passed quickly, because people are not blind and could perfectly observe my spree. At the next stage, Brienne was being tried for slack. You know, the "friendly" duels and training... in which she beat up a dozen knights. Oh, it just brought Robert to an extreme degree of delight that he gave her, to the envy of many, an expensive set of armor. Rumors even began to spread (of course, before I appointed Brienne Lady Justiciar) that Robert wanted to appoint her master of arms at the Red Castle, which already greatly unnerved the "old" master– Aron Santagar. A very interesting gentleman, the cousin of Lord Simon Santagar, and the man whom the latter entrusted to negotiate on his behalf about my possible engagement to the heiress of the House, Silva Santagar.
Due to her exploits in the lists, Brienne was closely registered with the representatives of the aristocracy from the Stormy Lands, who were very proud of their countryman. There were, of course, attempts to seduce, lure and bribe her, but all this was harshly suppressed both by her and by my entourage, who, for Lady Brienne, can do anything to anyone... ahem.
The Tartan maiden herself, during the time she spent in the capital, seriously messed up like that. If not to say that she has matured. There was no trace of naivety and an easy idealism that had not passed the test of business and dirt. No, she didn't harden up, and she didn't stop following the spirit of the code of chivalry, but... exactly that spirit. She has seen in practice that there is the letter of the law, whether written or not, and the spirit of the law, which are sometimes two big differences. Differences that often force you to make a very unpleasant choice. It was Brienne who came across the man who had experienced this thing on her own skin, coming out of my chambers.
As soon as I entered the living room, a most curious picture appeared in front of me. The tall and broad-shouldered Lady Brienne, flushed with angry emotions, towered over her companion, the golden-haired Ser Jaime Lannister, who smiled sweetly. Obviously, they had already exchanged greetings. Ser Jaime was well known not only as a fine swordsman, but also as a masterful backbiter who never reached into his pocket for a word.
"Ser Jaime! He smiled good–naturedly and quite sincerely, spreading his arms wide, as if he had met an old friend. – What an unexpected pleasure. Wine?
"Thank you, but no, Your Grace. Jaime turned fully in my direction, bowing slightly out of politeness and not removing a faint smile from his lips.
Catching my gaze and a slight nod of her head, Brienne, bowing and casting an evil glance at the blonde, left, her boots clattering loudly. Following the figure of the warrior with my gaze, I thought about it and was... pleased. That infatuation with yours truly, which Brienne was not particularly shy about showing, gradually disappeared, leaving behind strong friendships. It couldn't help but be gratifying, which was the best possible scenario. Brienne has definitely matured, and after a while she will definitely be ready to take her father's throne.
"Oh, Ser Jaime, as I understand you," he turned his kind gaze back to the guardsman, "a clever woman, a beauty, a knight and an heiress of the House. Lady Brienne is an enviable bride. Her company must be a palpable torment for a knight bound by the vows of a royal guardsman. It's a pity that you can't order your heart.…
Ser Jaime's smile turned noticeably sour, betraying the guardsman's confusion. Clearly, Lannister had never looked at his eternal and already beloved bickering with Brienne from this point of view. And I'm probably not the only one who sees this relationship from such an angle, which, judging by the expression on Jaime's pretty face, he clearly realized.
"Unfortunately, I'm not that experienced in dealing closely with knights. "How are you," read between the lines.
Oh, you bitch…
- Yes, I've heard a lot about your restraint. No lady could ever say that she had managed to shake the faithfulness of the vows given by Ser Jaime. It does you credit, sir. However, let's not delay the cause of your phenomenon any longer.
- I agree. Ser Jaime returned the half–smile to his lips, seeing that he had managed to get me. –Her Majesty invites you to a conversation, my Lord."
- Unexpectedly. - I was a little confused. "How soon?"
"Right now." – And here are the imperious notes... well, never mind, we'll play with you.
"Then give me ten minutes to make myself presentable."
***
The Queen was waiting for me in one of the many rooms in Maegor's Keep, which overlooked the Godswood. Cersei was sitting on a red velvet-upholstered armchair, and a flock of ladies-in-waiting in colorful dresses were twirling around, twittering and giggling merrily. The queen herself was wearing a green silk dress with gold embroidery and minimal jewelry. Without an elaborate hairstyle, golden hair is neatly arranged and crowned with a modest gold tiara with bright red rubies. In short, the queen was "at home," which did not affect her cold sexuality at all.
"Your Majesty! He exclaimed loudly, bowing deeply.
When I appeared, the ladies-in-waiting fell silent, staring at me with interest, if not greedily. Cersei sedately turned her head in my direction, raised her right hand, giving me a faint smile.
"Lord Renly." To my great surprise, Cersei tried to feign a warm welcome. – I am glad that you accepted my invitation.
"My queen," he bent down again, accepting and kissing the neat hand, "how can one imagine refusing to meet you?" Except maybe out of fear.
"Fear?" There was surprise in the Queen's voice, the first genuine emotion that could be extracted from her.
- Of course. I continued to smile in a half-bow, not letting go of Cersei's hand. "I'm as shy as a boy in your presence." My knees are shaking, and my palms are sweating. Not everyone can stand such beauty by themselves. Especially your lovely ears.…
"Ears?"
Cersei instantly thawed: amusement rang in her voice, interest flickered in her eyes, and her lips formed a warmer smile. She apparently likes peppery compliments or sudden, slightly inappropriate fun. And the ladies-in-waiting helped the atmosphere by supporting their mistress with quiet laughs and cheerful whispers.
- I must admit, this is the strangest compliment I've ever heard in my life. I'm really starting to believe that you're falling into childhood in my presence.
The ladies-in-waiting laughed more boldly and openly, and it was just a charming sight. But what warmed my soul much more was the certainty that the queen's twin was now putting on a snide face. I, in turn, supported the general fun with a good-natured smile, but... as soon as the laughter died down, I continued.
- I'm sure, Your Majesty, many people have said what radiant emerald eyes you have, nailing anyone who dares to look into them to the ground with their light. Your hair is the color of pure gold, as if it represents your whole House. Milky white skin, which any young girl can envy. – Everyone fell silent and froze, and Cersei, turning on the green lights in her eyes at full power, did not look away. "You're the epitome of beauty and power and... ears." At some point, I felt sad that no one pays attention to them, because without them your image is not complete. They are elegant, neat, and, I am sure, very sensitive. A real treasure.
Cersei's hand was still in my power, so I took advantage of the moment, ran my thumb over her wrist and, bending down again, barely kissed her hand again. Finally releasing her, he straightened up. To be honest, I was carrying game. But how I did it! The expression on my face, the tone, the lightness in my body language, and the call to my aid of all Baratheon's charisma – everything came together in perfect balance, when my words were not perceived as a bad joke or no less bad sycophancy. Meanwhile, the ladies-in-waiting shifted confused glances between me and the Queen, and Ser Jaime is... quiet. Aren't you jealous?
Or maybe he was jealous, because, to my great surprise, it was noticeable how Cersei swam a little, and a blush touched her fair skin. Truly, politeness takes cities, and politeness, coupled with arrogance, takes queens. Strange, though. I thought Cersei was only turned on by incest. Although... I wonder if sex with a brother-in-law counts as incest? Eh. Despite the highly developed courtly love in the Seven Kingdoms, the locals still lag behind in romance and compliments. But it can't be that in fear of Cersei, no one has praised or complimented her for years... right?
After a while, she found something to say. There was still an echo of merriment in her, but her voice was becoming stricter, like a smoothly stretched string.
- As always, they are kind and eloquent.
With an imperious gesture, Cersei sent away a flock of her ladies-in-waiting, who hurried to fly into the next room, from where giggles and quiet but lively conversations immediately began to be heard. Only Ser Jaime remained, valiantly propping the front door with his butt, not formally leaving us alone.
- That explains a lot. Especially the way you managed to get Asha Greyjoy into your bed.
Cersei said this with obvious malice, which also contained malice. And when a venomous smile crept onto her plump lips, she looked very much like her brother.
"Dragged you in?" – I was surprised. – A rather rough estimate…
With a glance, asking for permission, I sat down opposite the queen on the sofa.
- Let's just say it helped to get closer, you're right here. What can I do? Women love with their ears, men with their hands, and only rabbits with what they need. – He took a short pause. - Let me take care of you.
The Queen nodded gravely, smiling slightly – my simple joke still touched her, which, to be honest, I did not expect. Next to it was a low table with a glass decanter and a couple of glasses of wine. I poured the Queen and me a glass each and handed one to Cersei.
"You won't even deny it?" – The Queen uttered the question in the tone of an interested investigator, sipping her burgundy drink afterward.
I wonder what the motivation for this conversation is? Was it the father's decree or the Queen's own initiative? But why? Our ambitions with the Lannisters don't overlap anywhere, we live in different worlds and empyreans. I don't claim their interests, they claim mine. Perfect neutrality. What made the golden-haired people think otherwise? Or who?
"Deny what, Your Majesty?"
"The terrible rumors that are going around about you and that savage woman!
- Hmm... I don't remember anything terrible there, to be honest. – I thought picturesquely, as if remembering if I had forgotten to turn off the iron. – On the contrary, everything was very pleasant.
Cersei gave me a look of mock indignation, as if seeing me for the first time.
"What is it about her, Lord Renly," the queen did not hide her interest, "that you chose... her over all the young maidens of the kingdom that your fathers were ready to give you?"
"How can you describe love, my queen?" Cersei snorted, smiling condescendingly, as if I had said something stupid. – My feelings are hard to describe, but easy to understand. They translate into a desire to protect and protect, to enjoy every moment of her presence, to catch every word and smile. Do we really need more reasons?
"But that's no reason to openly cohabit, Lord Renly. – Cersei "froze" her face again, no longer intending to show any emotions. Just a polite smile.
"I have no one to answer to, Your Majesty. I continued to smile sweetly, but I let my surprise show in my eyes that I even had to talk about such topics. – Unlike most people in this castle, and in the capital, I am completely free. Both in his opinion and in his actions.
"Are you so sure of that, my Lord?" Jaime also spoke up, stepping away from the door and coming closer. The knight was clearly trying to imitate his sister without showing any vivid emotions. He's not doing very well.
"Absolutely, Ser Jaime. – He turned the body slightly, looking at the famous warrior, and continued, completely switching to a serious mood. – Many people, of course, do not like this. And if you're just jealous, sire, then others are worried about my independence.
- Do you think that I envy you? "Jaime is really the youngest. So much childish indignation crept onto his face, breaking his assumed impartiality that I couldn't help but chuckle, angering him even more.
"It looks like it." Instead of being by your father's side, having subsequently taken his place, you are forced to be here in the capital. Bound by many prohibitions and vows. Powerlessly watching... different.
Jaime frowned. No matter how much he denied and hid behind the words that he remained a guardsman because of his love for Cersei, you can't fool yourself.
- And I can love and hate whoever I want. Marry the one I choose myself. I can ignore everything, get on a ship and travel the world. I can lock myself in my lands, spending my life in hunting and tournaments. Can you afford it, Ser Jaime?"
The blonde was taken aback by such pressure, while I pointedly turned to Cersei as the clear leader of this tandem.
- Commendable self-confidence, so inherent in youth. Cersei spoke without haste, drawing out the words as if enjoying the sound of her own voice. – What courage. However, people are cruel and may well not share your impulses and aspirations, leaving you alone and isolated in the end.
"And what does your father say about that, my Queen?" The question was asked with a childish, naive intonation, which made Cersei lose her way. – Does the lion care about the sheep's opinion?
The twins were struck by cognitive dissonance, and they could not immediately find arguments. Still, they clearly weren't preparing for a serious conversation, or maybe they allowed themselves to lose their grip. In the capital, everyone fawns over the lion House. They politely flatter, admire, and bow low... so the kids got out of the habit of treating themselves equally.
"Do you consider yourself a lion, Lord Renly?" Finally, Cersei realized. "Then who are the sheep?"
"A metaphor, Your Majesty, nothing more. – He spread his hands awkwardly, switching to a serious tone a moment later. – But I just can't get it into my head, why all this verbal lace?
The twins got close. Despite the power and influence of their House, the queen and her party do not play first fiddle in the capital. As long as Robert is alive and well, they will not have absolute power, which is why they are forced to behave quietly and amuse themselves with ambitions rather than realize them.
"Does someone really think that by my proposed marriage to Greyja I'm trying to act against... who?" You, my queen, or your father?
The irony was oozing out of my mouth.
"What utter stupidity. May I ask who brought this to you? Lord Hand, Varys, Baelish, or old Pycelle? Who would be stupid enough to think that the purpose of this potential marriage is to annoy anyone?
There was an approving chuckle from Jaime. Prince Charming... he's not that bad after all. Cersei, having previously cast a sharp glance at her brother, spoke again.
"The Greyjoys have struck at our house many times before, Lord Renly. Robbed, raped and killed. Thousands of people were enslaved. Do you want to become related to these monsters?
I felt another question in her eyes: "How can my kids' cousin be a Greyjoy?"
"Why not?" Let's even forget for a second the fact that rumors are spreading about me and Lady Greyjoy. Cersei was clearly expecting a different answer, her eyes widening in mild shock. "These are the problems of House Lannister, which I have little interest in, if it is a problem for you at all. Lord Tywin has proved to the whole kingdom that he knows how to solve his problems. The Rheins and Tarbecks won't let you lie. Moreover... if that were the case, then I think your noble father would not have ignored my letters with the desire to intermarry the branches of our Houses.
Cersei exchanged glances with Jaime, who was standing a little apart. Yeah. It means that they have some kind of influence on their father and did not even hesitate to use it. But what am I talking about? The twins were still trying to say something, but I still didn't understand what they wanted from me. Were you probing, or did the conversation just go wrong? Did you want to put pressure and warn? We parted with mixed emotions, polite smiles on our faces, coldness and thoughts in our eyes. Finally, Cersei couldn't stand it.
"Be careful, Lord Renly. The warning was intoned slightly. – Disregard for the opinion of others is a path leading to oblivion.
- The road will be mastered by the walking, Your Majesty. – I decided to wrap it up quickly, I was already verbally satisfied today.
Bowing deeply once more, he left such a hospitable company.