Chapter 21

Kermit Tully knew one day he would get married; he was the son of Elmo Tully, who was the heir to Riverrun and one day future Paramount Lord of the Riverlands. But that wouldn't be for years. All this fuss over him being 'presentable' as a potential match made the eight-year-old boy weary. He wanted to go play, not sit and talk with some flowery princess.

Let Amos Bracken have her.

He couldn't tell his father, or his even more fearsome grandfather, Grover Tully, that. So he allowed himself to be fussed over by the servants who made sure his tunic and breeches were all fresh, clean, and neat looking.

After meeting the princess he would be expected to sit by her for the whole feast and "keep her entertained." That would be a tall order; everyone knew girls like boring things like dancing, jewelry, and flowers. It wasn't fair that he had to go first before the other suitors. Ser Stanton Piper was closer in age to the princess and already a knight; let him be bored! On the bright side, he would soon get to see a dragon.

He would have preferred to see the deadly Seasmoke, but a dragon was a dragon. Elaena's sister was married to the Dark Storm, maybe he could convince her to tell him some stories? That at least wouldn't be boring.

They had lined themselves up outside of Riverrun for the arrival. The princess was prompt, which Kermit was glad of. It was boring standing around and doing nothing fun that would dirty his clothing. The dragon was incredible! Viktoriya was her name, and his father had said the dragon was a smaller version of Silverwing, and even looked a bit like Seasmoke.

Bread, wine, and salt were provided to the Targaryen princess, and then Kermit found himself being introduced. He recalled the words he had been drilled on.

"Be welcome to Riverrun, Princess Elaena. I will be your escort and guide for the first two days of your visit. I will ensure you come to no harm, and hope that you see me as your future husband and guardian."

She smiled at him. "I am in your care, my lord."

Elaena looked nice, and she wasn't even wearing a dress, so that already made him like her more. The people around them gave them privacy as they strolled back to the castle. He had been advised on what to speak of, but it just seemed awkward to say such things to a princess. He felt like he had a frog in his throat when he tried to speak the words his family had suggested. Instead he chose to ask what he really wanted to know.

"You don't live very far from Driftmark, right?"

"No, it is just a short flight on dragonback from King's Landing. I visit often. Why do you ask?"

"Does Laenor Velaryon ever tell you stories of his battles?"

Elaena's lips curled into a smile. "My good-brother does not speak of his battles often, but we have talked more than once about them. What would you like to know?"

Kermit broke into a smile. He had been hoping that was the case. "How did he defeat both the Dornish and pirate fleets? They say he did alone what he and Prince Daemon couldn't do together years earlier. Did Seasmoke get bigger? Did he use some new strategy?"

"Good questions! Kermit, with your concerns on the tactics of warfare, you may want to learn a game popular in Essos called Cyvasse. More on that later, first let me address your question. My good-brother had learned how to avoid scorpion bolts and use the cover of darkness to his advantage. A scorpion is limited in the angle it can fire bolts. Laenor knew the arithmetic involved to avoid being in their line of fire. The rest, he left to Seasmoke to burn and move on."

"You mean sums and boring Maester lessons matter in battle?"

"Indeed they do! Laenor makes certain his sons are well versed in those concepts. They are all dragonriders themselves, so it may come in handy again in the future."

Kermit continued chattering away and concluded that Elaena was not so uninteresting. It would be nice to one day talk to the Dark Storm himself, but this was a close second. After they made it to the castle, they parted ways for a time to prepare for the welcoming feast.

Elaena reappeared, and looked more girlish than she had before. Gone were the riding leathers, replaced with a blue dress and a necklace of red gemstones. Elaena was seated right next to him. Where at first, he had been grateful that his father Elmo would be across from him and Elaena, now he wished he was more secluded with the princess. She had fascinating stories and had just started telling him about a game that was pretend-war.

"And how has my son been treating you, Princess Elaena?"

"He has been a wonderful companion. However, as I wrote to your father earlier, his youth creates some problems."

"Oh I am well aware, and we do not intend to waste your time, but it provides time for us to discuss some concerns."

"Concerns?"

Much of the conversation went over his head. Instead, Kermit focused on minding his manners and using his eating utensils like the Maester had taught him. They were talking about the Freys and then the Dragon Bank. When he heard the word dragon, he had perked up, but then when he realized it was copper counting, his attention wandered.

As the night began to close Kermit gave a yawn.

"The conversation has been most productive, Ser Elmo. Before I leave, I will draw up the necessary figures for your father and your Maester to review. I believe the terms will be viewed as fair and mutually beneficial. I thank you for the warning about Bracken, but rest assured it will be no issue."

Kermit wasn't sure what that was all about, but it was time for bed. He knew he would be dreaming of dragons and battle. The day had turned out rather fun!

***

Otto Hightower disliked facing setbacks. The Velaryon power was in ascendence, and it needed to be curbed. Rather than facing financial ruin and disgraceful defeat, they had won the Stepstones and cowed their enemies. He had thought without their disturbingly able conspirator, Elaena, there had been an opportunity to push forward financial countermeasures against that troublesome house, but those had been thwarted.

If Daemon thought that I would move slower, he has learned better now.

No sooner than the marriage tour for Elaena began had Otto pushed forward with his agenda. Obtaining the backing of the rest of the council, save for Beesbury, before pushing it upon Viserys had very nearly allowed his scheme to come to fruition. Unfortunately, Elaena, and now Rhaenys had convinced Viserys that it would not be wise.

"How are you faring with the pregnancy, Alicent?" The two were eating a meal together in the privacy of his office.

"Well enough, it is exhausting as always, but the Grand Maester believes the babe to be healthy, and me as well."

"Good. Daenora is reaching the age where she can claim a dragon soon. As soon as she is able to attempt such a thing, she should try to bond with Silverwing."

Alicent frowned. "She is only six, father. I would like to wait a couple of years."

"And risk Daemon bringing his daughter to the Dragon Pit and claiming her? See that she is ready sooner than late."

"Yes, father."

Alicent was dutiful, if simple. She had to be prodded and reminded at times, but at least she was obedient.

If only all my children shared that trait.

"In the past you have insisted that Elaena is neutral in this game of thrones between you and Rhaenyra. Have you noticed that almost as soon as Elaena leaves King's Landing, the Blacks send someone to see to their interests?"

His daughter blinked in surprise. "Surely that is a coincidence. Elaena does not involve herself with these sorts of intrigues. You tell me she discusses political matters with you, but you know how she is with the bank. It is her little project. Other women collect jewelry, or commission gardens to be maintained with unique flora…"

Otto sighed, interrupting Alicent. "You try my patience. It is painfully obvious she is the reason my efforts to diminish our enemies have yielded little fruit of late. The only reason I am not even more vexed with you, is that I too underestimated her at first. She is not just a pawn, but a player. I suspect her intellect places her on what effectively is the Blacks' small council."

Alicent shook her head in negation to this obvious truth.

"You are wrong father; you are jumping at shadows."

"She is not even of your blood! This willful blindness of yours will damn us." He angrily stood up.

At his words, his daughter's countenance shuttered, and she looked at him as if he had thrust a knife betwixt her ribs. Alicent opened her mouth to object, but Otto interrupted her.

"I've no more time to try to convince you of the obvious. Stew in your ignorant delusions, daughter, it ultimately matters not."

Just after leaving his distraught daughter, Otto sent a servant with a missive to Rhaenys. It was time to see what he could glean from his opponent. He had spoken truthfully to his daughter, Elaena was sharp, and discerning. There was no way she could be communicating back and forth with Dragonstone or Driftmark with the promptness of their negotiations. She was sure of herself, which meant that Daemon and Rhaenyra had given her substantial autonomy and trust.

Several hours later he found himself across from Rhaenys. The fierce woman was still beautiful, despite her age. Her lilac eyes met his and there was a steadiness to her gaze that was quite unlike the King's.

"My Lord Hand." She gave the shallowest of nods as she spoke.

"Lady Rhaenys, thank you for accepting my invitation. How is your family? Seven grandchildren, all are hale and healthy I hope?"

"Yes," she said crisply, "they are quite well. All seven of them."

Otto wondered at that. He also wondered what she thought of Daemon naming his deformed child Maegor. But he didn't ask.

"I was curious, how long do you intend to stay in King's Landing? I know how important your family is to you, and being apart can create much sorrow."

Her eyes widened a fraction. "You dare make threats?"

Otto shook his head hastily. "You wound me; I would not do such a thing. I meant a sorrow of the heart, on missing the moments with your loved ones."

Rhaenys exhaled. "Forgive me, but after your latest attempt at causing harm to my house, I leap to the worst possible interpretation. For that, you have only yourself to blame. My cousin thinks you meant well, but it was clear that you sought to harm the finances of House Velaryon. It will not soon be forgotten."

"In the end, nothing came of it. We each have our objectives, but there is no reason we cannot be cordial in our opposition. Your predecessor and I managed to be civil."

"Your recollection of the past differs from others."

Otto frowned.

What an odd way of phrasing that.

"No matter. In a month's time we will be reviewing the budget and seeing how much of a surplus we have. I believe our prior agreement still suits both of our needs."

Rhaenys looked at him, her eyes calculating. "Put it in writing, my Lord Hand, and I will review the details."

"When we have the exact numbers, we will review them. Much of the excess may be used for the royal wedding next year. Our King wishes it to be a grand event."

Rhaenys nodded. "Viserys dotes on his daughter; it is to be expected."

Otto gave her a thin smile.

You remind me of my disadvantage, what is it that you hope to gain. It wouldn't have been brought up for nothing.

"I suppose you have something to bring before King and council soon?"

Rhaenys took a swallow of wine from her cup. "Very good, Hightower, very good. I'm sure you already know the details, but Daemon is insistent on incorporating the Stepstones into the Seven Kingdoms as a Kingdom, much like the Iron Islands. He would swear fealty to the crown, and he and all his descendants would rule the Stepstones. Two small islands have been set aside for Vaemond and his heirs to serve as vassals to Daemon."

This was not news he had known. The idea of the Stepstones being given equal weight as the Iron Islands was rather daring. The Stepstones had more trade pass through their waters, but the Iron Islands had significantly larger islands and a much larger population.

"Daemon has pride enough for three men."

Rhaenys smiled for the first time since entering the room. "On that we agree! It was my son who won the final victory, but of course his children will inherit the Iron Throne and Driftmark, which satisfies both my husband and I. This does give our Laena's children a place of their own. Despite my frustrations with my daughter's husband, he has our backing."

Of course he does. Whatever squabbles the Blacks have amongst yourselves, you always act in concert with each other when time comes for the doing.

Otto wished he had as many capable people as his opposition had. Tyland Lannister and Larys Strong were the only two reliable minds he could count upon. His older brother was a cretin, and Otto's own sons were proving difficult to manage. Meanwhile Daemon and Rhaenyra had a slew of capable individuals.

Corlys, Rhaenys, Elaena, the damnable Dark Storm, and so many others could be counted on as incredible warriors, leaders, and politicians. Otto had his work cut out for him, it would take all his savvy and intelligence to win the inevitable open warfare once Viserys died.

"There was much to object to, what are you offering for me not objecting?" Otto asked.

"Offer? What do you think this is?"

Otto frowned again.

"I see, so things have changed. I will remind you that Viserys cares for his wife, he cares for my friendship, and he heeds the counsel provided by his council. Do not think you have as much leverage as you think you do."

They parted ways, and Otto wondered about what the Blacks were trying to do. Why allow for more than two years of negotiated agreements with their representative in Elaena, and now they choose to appeal to Viserys directly? Otto was troubled, but they had erred by choosing to die on the hill of Daemon's pride. That, at least, would be an easy move to counter with Viserys.

***

Kevan Lefford and his father did not always see the world in the same way. Humfrey Lefford was a very traditional sort of noble. He liked the world as it was, and did not like changes to it. The forced changes in tax bookkeeping annoyed him more really on principle. The loss of some gold was overall rather minor compared to the vastness of their coffers.

Golden Tooth had been aptly named, for gold had been aplenty in the mountain mines for hundreds of years, gold wheat filled the fields, and wide valleys of their lands, and gold was the sunny weather of its pleasant climate. Kevan knew that was not the only source of their wealth. Trade along the River Road flowed between the Westerlands and the Riverlands through the Tooth. This had made their house fantastically wealthy, only second to House Lannister in the Westerlands. Outside of the Westerlands, they were only surpassed by the houses of Targaryen, Hightower, Velaryon, and Redwyne. His father took some pride in the wealth of his house outstripping the Tyrells, Tullys, Starks, Baratheons, and Arryns. Though with the Tyrells it was a near thing.

His father also disliked the Dragon Bank. The Targaryens already had dragons, why did they need to intrude on financial matters as well? Or at least that what was his father, regularly, said during dinner. House Lefford had followed their overlord's lead, and had nothing to do with the bank.

Which was a mistake.

That very sentiment was what he was explaining to Princess Elaena Targaryen.

"Your Grace, what I have struggled to get my father to understand, is that the best way to resolve a conflict is to end it in such a way that your once opposition, is instead your new ally."

Elaena's vibrant blue eyes seemed to sparkle. "Do I not destroy my enemies when I make them my friends?"

Kevan's smile was not the fake smile of court; no, it was genuine.

"That… that is perfect! That is what I try to make him understand. We should not oppose the Dragon Bank; we should embrace it and make sure we have sway with it. We have no need for loans for ourselves, but we could provide investment coin and have it lent out. Lefford could ingratiate itself with Beesbury and his men, and even help steer a course for it that benefits us."

Elaena studied him. "And your father, he was not convinced?"

Kevan spread his heads, "I am only an heir at this point. I could convince him if it wasn't for House Lannister. They make it clear none in the Westerlands should have any dealings with the Dragon Bank."

"I wish your father no ill will, but I do look forward to the day your house can join in the business dealings. My own father is quite proud of his mark on the Targaryen dynasty."

Kevan quirked an eyebrow at the guest in his home. He had seen her fly in on a dragon. Seen her accept the welcome rights from his surly father, having done so with poise and grace. She did not seem the type to allow small obstacles to prevent her form getting what she wanted.

Kevan liked that. That feeling about her. So he followed his intuition.

"Giving up so soon?"

Elaena narrowed her eyes dangerously, and the room suddenly felt still. "Speak plainly."

"If you chose me as your match, that changes the dynamics." Kevan explained.

Elaena's gaze softened, and the strange pressure that had built up in the room dissipated completely. Kevan adjusted his collar to ease the sudden cold sweat accompanying his quickened heartbeats.

"Ah, I see now. Well, as to that, I have promised to give each suitor a meeting. To be clear here, you are saying that if I chose you, your father would be convinced to open relations with the Dragon Bank, despite his overlord's resistance?"

"Yes. We owe the Lannisters our allegiance, but we are not their slaves. We can do business with whom we like. What can they do? Rouse their armies against us? A rather large hue and cry will occur throughout the Westerlands, to say nothing of what King Viserys will do when the daughter he calls "The Realm's Blessing" is put in danger."

Elaena was nodding.

"This is well thought out, Kevan. You intrigue me, and I have some questions on what you would expect and would tolerate as my spouse."

From there Elaena dug into him like a confessor. He answered truthfully, for lying to the sharp-eyed princess seemed foolish. No – he would not like not having his marital rights, but yes, he would respect her limitations. No, he did not mind only two children. No, he did not see an issue with a daughter inheriting.

"Though I would insist that if I have a daughter inherit, it would be expected her children take on the Lefford name, and not their father's."

Kevan wondered if the princess knew just how much her hand was worth. A dragon is a formidable piece on the board. Even without the dragon, his father's spies said that Elaena was the apple of the King's eye. The succession was muddy, but what was known was that Aegon and Rhaenyra both viewed Elaena with favor. Whoever married her would have immense political power.

More questions were asked; she was quite curious about what the Westerlands had to offer. Thankfully, he had ready answers. Many lords dismissed 'counting coppers' as beneath them, but those who thought that way were fools. Wealth, and its proper use, was how dynasties were created.

It delighted him that she would ask additional questions that built upon his answers. Her understanding of the economics of trade was impressive, as was her clear intellect. Even so, after she was done with the questioning, he felt like a dried-out rug. She was his junior by four years, but her knowledge of such matters was clearly superior to his. Unlike many of his peerage, he did not mind being outclassed. It boded well for the potential of their, hopefully, future children.

"This has been a delightful evening, Kevan. What do you have planned for us on the morrow?"

"Not knowing your tastes, I had nothing planned. There are a variety of activities we can do. We can go riding, we can stroll through the nearby town's markets, you can watch me spar with the men, you can get to know the ladies in the area, or something completely different. You tell me what you wish to do and what you wish to experience to help make your decision, and I will see to it."

Kevan knew he was not the epitome of a maiden's fancy, but he took care to stay fit and healthy. His ash-blonde hair was not the coloring most appealing, nor was his height particularly impressive. However, Elaena's smile gave him conviction that he had said the right things. He hoped it would be enough, and he hoped his father would be reasonable if Elaena did choose him.

***

Ser Arron Vikary was not fond of what was being done in Casterly Rock, nor his role in the entire affair. The Princess Elaena had arrived in Lannisport, only to learn that she would be hosted in Casterly Rock instead of the city. The accommodations weren't important, but it was all part of a pettiness that Lord Jason Lannister had commanded.

Arron thought it had to do with a grudge Jason had with Princess Rhaenyra. Lannisters were used to getting what they wanted, and he wanted a Targaryen bride. Upon his rejection, his displeasure had been made plain, and those who regularly interacted with the wealthy lord said that he oft jested that he was lucky not to have been chosen, given Rhaenyra's extramarital relations.

Rumors of course, easily denied as slander, for Jason Lannister would never be so uncouth as to speak such thoughts aloud.

Arron thought this sarcastically. If ever called upon it, they would claim it lies, but all in the Westerlands knew of the grudge Jason held. It was one of the reasons why the region had been forbidden from taking part in the Dragon Bank. Even Arron, the heir to a knightly house that had less wealth than many merchants, knew of it.

It began with the formal greeting. Instead of suitors from Banefort, Westerling, and the Lannisport Lannisters, Jason had told the princess that they were delayed unexpectedly, and that they begged her patience. Meanwhile, there were other suitors who had come to press their case.

There was Ser Rolph Yew, an aging knight in his late 70s who wore perfumes to hide a stench. Lord Simon Lantell, who had recently been widowed was a man of short stature but likely the widest man in the Westerlands. Then there was Gylbert Clifton, the second son of another knightly house who was still a boy of five. Ser Arron Vikary knew he was far and away the best of this paltry lot, and knew that he was also utterly unworthy of royal match. He was a decent knight in tournaments, often reaching the later rounds, of an appropriate age, and the ladies liked his features.

To her credit, Elaena did not take visible offense, and instead thanked Lord Lannister for being such a gracious host. She expressed hope that she would get to know and meet each of the surprise suitors in the time allotted.

A welcoming feast and a dance were on the agenda for the evening. Ser Arron watched as Ser Rolph awkwardly danced on the floor with the princess. The other dancers shied away, as the smell coming from him was more poorly masked than typical. The princess did not let it bother her, but he regularly got the moves wrong, and soon a few ladies were snickering within ear shot.

Time to play the dashing hero.

Arron cut in and, "Ser, you look a bit parched, have some wine and allow me to finish the dance with the princess."

Rolph grumbled but relented, as he had been told to do.

"Forgive me for not interjecting sooner."

"You are already proving a better dance partner; thank you, ser."

They danced for a time, and Arron gave her sweet words and polite compliments. When the dancing came to a pause, Elaena sat back down and continued the meal. A serving maid proved 'clumsy' and multiple cups of wine spilled over the princess. Her hair and dress were soaked and Jason loudly apologized for the servant's incompetence.

"Your Grace, if you would like I can have her birched, or even whipped if that is your desire."

Elaena, still dripping with wine, shook her head.

"No need, my Lord Lannister, mistakes can be made by any one of us. But if you will excuse me, I believe I will take my rest for the evening."

Arron knew that she would be given fine quarters, ones next to the feasting hall. And within the feasting hall there would be loud drumming, and music throughout the night. Arron wondered if Jason's little scheme would even reach fruition. More than likely, the princess would leave in a huff. Maybe that would be for the best. Gold was gold, but Targaryens could be vengeful.

The next day, Princess Elaena seemed no worse for wear. Perhaps she had the gift of being able to sleep even in loud environs. It was early for the breaking of the fast, but Casterly Rock worked upon Jason's will. Today was marked with little Gylbert spending the morning with the princess. After which it was Lord Simon's turn.

At the evenings feast, both Simon and Elaena excused themselves early. That night a Maester was summoned and declared that they both had 'indulged overmuch on rich foods' but both were in fine health, but for some discomfort over the next couple of days.

The third day was his 'turn' but Elaena demurred. At the feast, Arron claimed loudly afterwards that Elaena had agreed to him on the morrow, and that his chances for a match were quite positive. The seating for the fourth day of feasting would have him next to her.

She came in, once more looking radiant and without blemish. No one would suspect she'd had sleepless nights and been fed substances that would leave grown men in a privy for hours.

Must be something that royalty learns in their youth.

More sweet words were spoken, and he offered to feed her choice cuts from his plate.

"You are being a bit too forward, ser." Elaena rebuked with a soft voice that did not reach anyone else's ears.

"My apologies, princess. I only wished for you to enjoy yourself after your brief illness."

Elaena's eyes glittered as she scanned the room.

"'Tis interesting who is here today. There are more nobles, including some from the Reach, and even a pair of merchants from Essos."

More witnesses.

"I am curious, what the goal intended here was. Was I to be matched with the worst possible suitors, so that you could look better in comparison? With the idea that even dull bronze can look like gold when served next to a steaming pile of manure?"

Arron recoiled, and looked around to make sure no one could overhear.

"Princess?"

"That didn't make much sense to me. You are heir to a house with little holdings. There were more handsome men on my journeys. There were more accomplished knights. No, even if I wanted to wed you, my family would be greatly opposed. Did you think that I would give my maidenhead so easily? That would put you in grave danger, so that wasn't it either."

"Your Grace…"

"I can only deduce by the chain of events, that you and Jason Lannister sought to keep me off balanced and unsure of myself. Staining a favored dress, having me endure the stench of a rotting noble, and feeding me purgatives, were all part of your little scheme. But to what end?"

She paused for breath, and Arron could only sit in silence; trying to think through the implications.

"You most like intended to loudly humiliate me and refuse me here, in front of additional eyes, that you as a knight could not lay with me prior to marriage. Many would see the other suitors, perhaps even see a level of closeness that you just tried to begin, and believe me a silly girl who got caught up in her desires. You, the noble knight, fearing for what people would say, loudly refuse me. I would be left humiliated, and you viewed with virtue."

"I would never…" Arron began to lie. How had she learned of it?

"Of course, such reputational gains are feeble things. And hardly worth the potential ire of the King. You could always later apologize and say you misunderstood what was being said. Everyone would assume you did so out of fear, and with your public statement made, no vengeance would fall upon you. But my reputation would still be damaged. How does that benefit you? Clearly you are being paid in some manner. Is it a marriage match above your station? Or is it something as pathetic as gold?"

Arron began to redden. She was right on all accounts. He could only assume that the Lannister lord's household had been compromised by the Master of Whisperers' ears. Perhaps the plan could still work, just because she knew it was coming doesn't mean she could do anything to stop it. He was angry at her dismissive words.

He stood up and opened his mouth. Her hand moved as swift as an arrow, and struck him across the face.

"SER! If you ever lay a hand upon my person again, I'll have it removed." She spoke in a raised voice, that all could hear.

"What's this?" Jason Lannister stood up. "What has happened?"

"Ser Arron Vikary placed his hands upon me in a place no man, save for a husband or Maester, should grasp. I am the Princess Elaena Targaryen of House Targaryen. Daughter of King Viserys Targaryen, First of his Name, not some wench in a brothel!"

Arron now grew fearful. By striking first, she had undermined what he had been about to do.

Lord Simon Lantell attempted to defend him.

"Your Grace, I have known Ser Arron for some time, that is not the type of behavior he would engage in."

Elaena pinned the fat oaf with a stare.

"Perhaps you are right, perhaps it was accident." Her gaze shifted back to Arron. "If so, he can apologize to me this instant, and I can retire to my rooms." Those blue eyes were chips of ice as they bore into his. Arron felt a surge of restless energy fill his veins, like what he felt right before an important joust. The urge to get away from the situation was overwhelming. If he continued to deny that it happened, he knew the princess would declare him a liar, and should she wish to pursue it, she could even take it to the King's Justice.

"Your Grace, please forgive me. I… I am a bit in my cups and meant only to garner your attention, never that. I am a knight anointed by the Seven, I would never seek to do such a thing, forgive me for my clumsiness, I will trouble you no further."

Elaena gave a nod. "You are forgiven, but I believe my time here has been clouded by this. Lord Jason, if we could confer in private, before I retire, I intend to make my departure sooner than planned."

Jason was frowning, but could not object. Arron watched as the two left the feast. He had not thought this would happen. He had not thought Elaena would learn of the plan, or be so ruthless as falsely accuse of him of impropriety. His hands were shaking, he realized now that he had been blinded by his greed.

Hours later, he was summoned to Lord Lannister's solar.

"What do you have to say for yourself?"

"My lord, she knew! You must seek out who betrayed you, the Master of Whisperers' reach is long and…"

"You ignorant lout, do not speak to me of the Master of Whisperers as if my brother did not speak with him regularly! Now, I need to know exactly what she said to you."

Arron repeated as best as he could remember what Elaena had spoken to him in barely above a whisper during the feast.

Jason's face grew paler.

"She suspects we poisoned her food with purgatives? She made no mention of it just now. I had thought that with her dining companion also suffering, she would not suspect. No matter, nothing can be proven, and it would be best to take no chances that this could be corroborated. Guards!"

Several guards came in. Arron looked at them warily.

"My Lord, please, I only did as…"

With a signal from Jason's hand, the guards drew their blades and Arron felt cold steel enter warm flesh.