31. News

As Stannon and his group rode through the busy streets of King's Landing, the heaviness of the city hit him. The smell of decay, sweat, and dirt was overwhelming compared to the fresh air of the North. The city was full of noise—people shouting to sell their goods, beggars asking for money, and the constant hum of voices. The sight of so many people watching them with curiosity, suspicion, and sometimes recognition made Stannon grip his horse's reins tighter.

They made their way through the main streets toward the Red Keep. The city guards, wearing gold-trimmed armor, lined the path to make sure nothing disrupted the prince's arrival.

As they got closer to the gates of the keep, Stannon saw the signs of the ceremony. Knights stood in neat rows, their hands resting on their swords. Lords and Ladies in their finest clothes watched from balconies and terraces, whispering to each other. Stannon saw the sigils of different noble houses—Tyrell, Martell, Tully, and Greyjoy. The realm had gathered to witness his return.

At the foot of the grand steps leading into the keep, the royal family and court waited. Queen Cersei stood next to her children, her sharp green eyes studying him. Joffrey stood rigidly, his expression unreadable. Myrcella and Tommen were absent, as Robert had stopped having children with Cersei after Joffrey. He had never wanted to have more children with her, already having Stannon, but due to political reasons, he had no choice but to father a son with her. Although Joffrey was technically a bastard, Robert only had two officially recognized sons—Stannon and Joffrey.

The Hand of the King, Jon Arryn, was also there, standing with the Lords of the Small Council.

But the person who made Stannon pause was King Robert Baratheon.

The last time Stannon had seen him was nine years ago, when Robert had been heavy with ale and excess food. He had expected to return to find a king who had only grown worse with age, someone lost in feasts and hunts. But the man before him was not the same one he remembered from the show.

Robert Baratheon now looked like a younger version of himself.

His body, once bloated, was now solid muscle. His beard was well-groomed, and his face had none of the sickly redness of a heavy drinker. He looked strong, stronger than Stannon had ever seen him. His armor shone in the sunlight, a reminder of the warrior he once was. His piercing blue eyes locked onto Stannon's, and for a moment, Stannon couldn't understand the look in them.

The crowd cheered as Stannon stopped his horse before the king. The bells of the Great Sept rang, and the sound of trumpets echoed through the square.

Stannon dismounted, handing his reins to a servant, and walked forward. He knelt before his father, lowering his head.

Robert stared at him for a moment, and the crowd grew silent. Then, in a loud voice, he said, "Rise, my son."

Stannon stood, and before he could react, Robert grabbed him by the shoulders with a firm grip. Then, to Stannon's surprise, his father pulled him into a tight embrace.

"You've grown strong, boy," Robert whispered, his voice filled with emotion. Then, louder for everyone to hear, he said, "The North has kept you well, but now it's time you remember what it is to be of the blood of a King."

The crowd cheered again.

Later, Stannon was led into the Red Keep. Servants and nobles bowed as he passed. The castle was just as grand as he remembered—polished marble floors, tall pillars, and banners of House Baratheon hanging from the walls.

That night, a feast was held in his honor.

The Great Hall was full of celebration. Long tables were piled with food—roast boar, venison, bread, and honeyed fruits. Servants moved quickly, refilling goblets of wine, while musicians played lively tunes.

Robert was in high spirits, laughing and joking with his lords, though he drank less than Stannon remembered. Cersei sat beside him, her smile tight, but her sharp eyes never left Stannon.

As the night went on, Robert raised his goblet and stood.

"Nine years, my son has been away. Nine years learning from wolves in the North. But now, he is home, where he belongs. Let it be known once more—he is my heir, my blood, and one day, he shall rule as King of the Seven Kingdoms!"

The hall erupted in cheers, though Stannon noticed some lords—like Tywin Lannister, Cersei, and Varys—watching with calculating eyes. This wasn't just a celebration; it was a re-declaration of statement of power.

After the feast, Robert took Stannon for a walk. They strolled through the halls, the torches casting long shadows as they talked.

"You're surprised by what you see," Robert said, glancing at him.

Stannon nodded as it was obvious but he knew that Robert wasn't talking only about his physique. "Yes. You look… different."

The king laughed. "I am different." He paused, then sighed. "Do you know why I sent you to Winterfell?"

Stannon frowned. "Because it was my mother's wish? To learn from Lord Stark?"

Robert shook his head. "That was part of it. But the real reason was I wanted you away from this place. Away from the leeches, the whisperers, and the vipers who call themselves lords." His face darkened. "I let myself grow weak, boy. I drank, I feasted, I let others take care of the kingdom while I wasted away." He clenched his jaw. "Then after the day of our little talk, I looked in the mirror and saw a man I didn't recognize. Fat. Useless. A shadow of the warrior I once was."

Stannon listened, surprised by his father's honesty.

"I swore to change," Robert continued. "Not just for myself, but for the realm. For you." He stopped and turned to face his son. "A king must be stro.ng, Stannon. Not just in body, but in will. I won't leave you a broken kingdom. I won't leave you as a boy unprepared."

Stannon looked his father in the eye. "Then teach me."

A slow smile spread across Robert's face. "Oh, I intend to."

"Stannon," Robert asked changing the topic. "Are you ready for what you need to say the day after tomorrow?"

Stannon blinked, momentarily confused. The question then reminded him of the big event ahead—the name day celebration of the King. It would not only celebrate Robert's rule but also give Stannon the chance to make his first big move in politics.

Stannon nodded after a moment. "Yes, Father. I'm ready."

The name day was a big occasion. There would be feasts, performances, and displays of wealth. It was the perfect time for Stannon to step into the spotlight. But what he planned to reveal would surprise everyone. He had decided it was time to show that he was behind the growing soap business in Westeros, a venture that had taken off in recent years.

For five years, Stannon had secretly built the soap business, letting Robert and Ned Stark take the public credit. Few knew he was involved, and that was how he wanted it.

"I've stayed in the shadows long enough," Stannon said, sounding more confident than before. "It's time my name is attached to something successful. The soap business is huge now. Everyone uses it—rich and poor. That makes it valuable. The common folk use it for hygiene, and the nobility sees it as a luxury. It's a symbol of health and wealth, and I've built an empire from it."

Robert while feeling proud of himself son, nodded at that as he completely agreed with Satnnon's thinking.

'The name day celebration is the perfect time to reveal myself. By doing this, I'll gain respect from the nobles and the common folk alike, improving my political standing,' Stannon thought as he decided to prepare properly the things that he would say on the big stage.

Robert soon left Stannon, his footsteps echoing as he walked away. Stannon stood for a moment, thinking about everything, then made his way to his room. The Red Keep felt familiar, but different after so many years. His chambers were just as he remembered them—quiet and calm, a welcome break from the busy city outside.

Feeling drained from the long journey, Stannon collapsed onto the bed, wanting nothing more than to sleep. He closed his eyes and quickly fell asleep, the noise of the city fading away.

But his sleep didn't last. He was soon woken by a loud and hurried knock at the door. Stannon groggily sat up, annoyed at the interruption. He rubbed his eyes and tried to wake himself up before speaking.

"Come in," he said, his voice thick from sleep.

The door opened, and Colen entered, looking serious and tense. Stannon could tell something important was going on.

"We have news," Colen said in a low voice. "From our spy in Driftmark."

Stannon sat up, as he yawned. "What news?"

Colen hesitated for a moment before speaking. "Aurane Waters, the bastard of Driftmark... he's found a dragon egg during his journey to Essos."

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